Page 83 of Changes on Ice
Cross swallowed hard, determined not to spill any. This flavor was less appealing, but the way Rusty gasped and moaned and beat the bed with his hands was the best applause in the universe. Cross took down every drop and kept tonguing him and sucking until Rusty tapped his cheek.
“Ah, too much. Off.”
Cross raised his head, letting Rusty’s spit-slick cock drop out of his mouth, and grinned.
Rusty grinned back at him, then ran a finger under Cross’s lower lip. “Jesus, you’re good at that.”
“Good?” Cross suddenly needed the reassurance.
“Awesome. Incredible. Fuck, if you can’t play hockey, you can make a fortune as a rent boy.”
Cross stared down at Rusty, too tangled up to decide if that was a compliment, a joke, or a little too close to the bone.
Rusty blinked back at him, then burst into laughter. “Sorry, your face. Probably too soon, huh?” He cupped the back ofCross’s head and crunched up, defined abs tightening, to kiss him. “You give really great head, though. Thank you. Give me a second and I’ll return the favor.” He collapsed back on the pillow grinning.
“You don’t need to.” Cross pushed back and sideways to get his ass on the bed. His ankle throbbed faintly, but kneeling hadn’t been the worst position. He tugged the covers closer around his hips to hide his barely half-hard dick.
“What if I want to?” Rusty’s grin faded.
“Um.”
“Still too sore?”
Rusty’s gentle tone made it possible for Cross to shake his head. “No. I just don’t want to.”
“That’s cool. I got off like a rocket so I’m good, right?” Despite the easy words, Rusty looked worried.
He’s a great guy. I trust him, I loved making him feel good and I’m not bored, like with Willow. Why am I still like this?Cross shifted around on the bed, getting his legs out from under until he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Rusty.What are you going to do? Run away?
He heard rustling behind him, then Rusty scooted over to sit beside him, sturdy bare legs next to Cross’s damaged ones. Rusty set a hand on the small of Cross’s back, his palm warm on suddenly chilled skin. “Talk to me, babe.”
Cross licked his lips, swallowed. “I need a drink. Water, I mean.”
“Sure thing.” Rusty jumped from the bed, jogged into the bathroom and returned with a glass of tap water. “Here.”
It wasn’t Perrier but the clean liquid helped unclog Cross’s mouth. He finished the glass off and stared down into it.
Rusty lifted the tumbler from his fingers. “More?”
“No. Thanks.”
Rusty set the glass on the bedside table. “Okay then. What has you tied up in knots?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your shoulders are cranked halfway to your ears.”
“Are not.”
Rusty huffed and turned toward him, sliding a knee onto the bed to get closer. He set his hands on Cross’s shoulders and began kneading, strong fingers digging into the base of Cross’s neck. Despite everything Cross needed to say, he couldn’t help groaning with pleasure.
“Oh yeah, that you like.” Rusty kept going, working Cross’s neck and shoulders and upper arms.
Cross closed his eyes and let himself fall into the pleasure of touch, hands on his skin, a rubbing massage that demanded nothing of him except that he relax and enjoy. He jolted out of the zone a minute later when Rusty stopped and let go.
“Thanks,” Cross murmured.
“No sweat. Your voice working again now?”
