Page 148 of Friendzone Hockey
“Come for me, sweetheart.”
Dash lets go. I’ll never look at anything as magnificent as Dash coming ever again. He catches on the pleasure, frozen in time when all his muscles tense. I grip his cock, stroking him, pumping my hips into him slowly as I brace with my other hand over the top of him, and give him what I hope is the best orgasm of his life.
His face, the sheer eroticism of the moment, him fucking squeezing my cock mercilessly, I can’t hold back anymore. A blinding, nerve-shattering jolt of electricity sings through me. My cock—that’s definitely living its best life—releases shots of warm cum, filling the rubber it’s confined in.
Dash’s stomach’s painted with his. I don’t care. I roll us and pull him on top of me, holding his lips hostage, kissing him roughly, sweetly, hungrily.
Yeah, I’m not done with you. This mouth is mine till further notice.
We make out like we should have ages ago, enjoying how the other tastes, coating ourselves in his cum. I’m still inside him.
Eventually, our human condition forces us to come up for air. He collapses on top of me.
“Wow. Just … wow,” he murmurs against my chest. He toys with my nipple.
“That help?”
“Yeah, fuck, Stace. I can feel you when my heart beats. All the places you carved yourself into me.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“Do I make you feel like this, too? Like your heart is gonna seize? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t, but I’ve never felt?—”
“I do. I feel the same way, but for me, you’re the murmur of my world, the space between every heart beat.” I lace my fingers with his and close my eyes, looking for him by feel rather than sight, latching onto the brightness of his energy in the air.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
NOW
Dash
So, a new thing’s happening. I can’t look at Stacey or hear his voice without fucking blushing. It’s becoming a problem. How do I overcome such things? By being a fucking brat. I promise, it’s the only worthy solution. Besides, any trouble I get myself into, I’ll pout my way out of. The whole world is well aware that Stacey gives me whatever I want, and I’m enjoying putting that to the test.
Except for orgasms on demand, apparently. My throat’s still fucking raw from yesterday. We barely left my bedroom all day.
“Frog in your throat, Dash?” Casey says, cackling at his own joke until it dawns on him. “Ew, I can’t tease you without thinking about my brother in the act of fornication.”
“Act of fornication?”
“Yeah, makes it sound more science-y. I’m not using sex and my brother in the same sentence.” He fishes a fistful of ketchup chips from the bag, shoving them into his mouth, getting chip crumbs everywhere. Sutter’s not here to clean up after him.
“Has Sutter texted you? When are they coming back?” I stretch out on the couch, pouting. It’s cold without my human furnace. The insulation in this house is terrible, so even though it’s hot outside, it’s cold in here until noon.
“Haven’t you texted your man?”
Stacey’s my man now. I smile. “Well, yeah, but I don’t wanna text him every five minutes.”
Casey frowns. “Why? You always text him every five minutes.”
“That’s when we were friends. I don’t wanna do anything to make him regret this.”
He does a double take, sets the chip bag on the coffee table, and wipes his hands on his sweats. “What are you doin’, Dash? Do I need to get Dirk involved? I will.”
I look to the ceiling and then stare him dead in the eyes. “You don’t need to involve Dirk. Getting here was a long road for Stacey and me. It’s only natural that I’m a little anxious.”
“Yeah, nah, dude. You have two options. Text him right now or tell him why you wouldn’t text him once he gets back.”
