Page 102 of Breakaway Goals
“Did you mean it?” Morgan asked. Soft. Intimate. It brought back so many memories, visceral and hot, of dim hotel rooms. Morgan’s voice murmuring in his ear. They’d only had ten days, but every single minute of their time together felt like it was scribed onto his heart.
“At the time, a little. But not enough.” Hayes’ fingers curled into Morgan’s shoulder as he tugged him a half inch closer. He felt as big and broad and firm as he’d felt then. Hayes wanted to gorge, to fling himself right at Morgan and hope he’d catch him, but he held himself back,barely.
Morgan huffed out a little laugh. “I want to argue with you but that would be stupid of me.”
“Yeah?” It was so easy to tilt his head up, to look Morgan right in the eye. He could already taste Morgan’s mouth.
There was an inevitability about this, same as there’d been six years ago. He was fated to want Morgan. Fated to lose him. Fated to pine over him. Fated to get another taste, when he’d been so sure he never would again.
“Well, duh. I told you I was an idiot, I told you—”
The last thing he wanted was for Morgan to ruin this with another shitty apology. “Shut up. Stop talking,” Hayes said and kissed him.
Morgan gasped into his mouth, like that was the last thing he’d expected. But then before Hayes could pull away and demand to know if that wasn’t what he’d fucking meant by saying in that wry, regretful tone,I was an idiot, too, Morgan wrapped one of those big, warm hands around his waist and pulled him flush against him. His tongue dipped between Hayes’ lips.
Hayes dropped the trash bag with a crash, barely hearing the sound as he slid his other hand onto Morgan’s opposite shoulder.
He kissed him like he’d dreamt about for so fucking long.
Like he’d thought about doing this every day for the last two thousand plus days, andmissedit for every one of those days.
And Morgan? Gave back as good as Hayes was giving. Like he’d been there, too, and now that he was getting another chance, was not going to waste it.
They stumbled, hands gripping each other, lips moving together fiercely, over to one of the pool loungers.
Hayes felt his knees hit the edge, and then Morgan was pushing him down. Hovering over him. His big, hard body covering his, cock noticeably pressing against Hayes’ thigh.
“Fuck, baby,” Morgan groaned out. “You feel so good?” His voice was full of incredulous disbelief.
Like he’d never imagined he’d ever get to feel it again.
Hayes wanted to tell him that he’d never intended to let him, but that wasn’t just a punishment for Morgan, but for him, too.
And he was so fucking tired of punishing and denying and pretending.
He curled a hand around Morgan’s shoulder and pulled him more tightly against him, relishing the feel of Morgan’s body caging him in, pressing him down.
It felt like déjà vu and a hallucination. An echo of what it had felt like then, all those old memories clashing and blending with the new.
Hayes tucked a calf around Morgan’s and swallowed another of his groans. Their mouths moved against each other, slick and so eager, and for a single delusional second, Hayes thought,this could be enough. This could be enough forever.
But of course it wasn’t. It wouldn’t ever be.
He’d seen Morgan’s big hand earlier tonight and imagined how it would feel against his bare skin. And when it rucked up Hayes’ shirt, he nearly short-circuited at the feel of it, heat pressed into heat.
“Good?” Morgan murmured into his mouth.
“The best.” For a second, Hayes felt a flash of embarrassment. Because that was true. It was the best, and he’d never wanted Morgan to know that.
But then Morgan was straight up groaning harder, hips making tiny little aborted thrusts as he ground his cock against Hayes’ thigh.
Turned out it was impossible to feel any kind of way but insanely turned on when two simple words had that kind of effect on a man like Morgan Reynolds.
“Want you,” Morgan gasped out. “Let me.”
Hayes didn’t know what he was letting him do, but he nodded mindlessly. Morgan could do anything he wanted. No questions. No hesitation.
Morgan reached down and tugged Hayes’ T-shirt over his head, his fingertips pressing into his pec, thumb reaching down to brush his nipple.
