Page 40 of These Wicked Games
“Suck harder.”
He listens, sucking harder with every rough thrust. I’m losing my mind. I let go of his hair before cradling the sides of his face, my thumbs pressing against his jaw as I fuck myself down his throat. I push him onto me, making him gag. I’m going to come. I’m going to lose it.
“Andre.”
A slight whine sounds. He tenses, sucking harder. I unleash down his throat, holding him to me as he sputters and chokes.
When he's drank every drop, I straighten, pulling out slowly. Andre is heaving, looking up at me. I pull out and look at the mess I’ve made. Cum and spit drip down his chin and he’s breathing hard. I look down and see his spent cock and the mess it’s made on the bathroom floor.
Reality bitch slaps me.
This is Andre. Andre fucking Tavares.
I fucking hate him.
“Oli, wait—”
I grab my pants, pulling them on. I forget my shirt is in tatters when I leave the bathroom, and it sinks in now what the fuck I’ve done. What the fuck. I . . . I let . . . Fuck. Going to my bag, I unzip it, finding the first shirt I can and pulling it on. Fucking hell. What did I just do? It was like something dark rolled through me. Filled me. Consumed me. “Kuli—” I look up at his voice. My name comes out rough.
Rough because I fucked his throat raw.
I have no words; I can’t think straight. Instead of saying anything, I swipe my phone off the dresser before storming toward the door. “Are you fucking joking me?” Andre snaps. I can’t say anything. My mind is shutting down. Everything is getting too muffled. My chest is tight. Tears sting my eyes.
I open the door and leave, storming down to Grey and Atlas’s room. I need space. I need—fuck, what do I need?
Swallowing hard, I don’t know whether to scream, cry, or punch something. I want to do any number of other things except thinkabout the way Andre sucked me, savored me. The way he moaned as he fucked his fist to the feel of my cock in his mouth.
“Fuck!” I find Grey’s room, banging hard on the door. I hope they’re back. The game was nearly over when we left the arena. I just hope they came back right after the game instead of going out. We most likely lost.
“What the fu—”Atlas pulls the door open, black brows pinched. “Kuli?” I storm inside. “The fuck happened to you?”
“I need to sleep here tonight.” I can’t be around Andre. I don’t trust myself.
“What’s going . . . Holy shit, Kuli, what the fuck happened to you?” Grey asks.
“What?”
“Your face. Looks like you got into a fight.” Shit, I forgot that’s how all this bullshit started. How am I going to explain this? It feels like I have the words“Andre sucked my dick”written across my face.
“Are you still fighting with Andre?” Atlas shakes his head. “You guys are going to cost us if you don’t figure this out. Tonight was bullshit!” His anger is surprising, the shame I feel is not.
I look to Grey who’s eying me weirdly. “What’s wrong, Oliver?” I don’t like the way he uses my full name. It’s what my mother used to do when she wanted to pry information out of me.
“I just can’t stay in that room with him. Please.” I’m slowly losing it. It’s like watching an accident happen in real time, and I’m just standing there, too numb to do anything about it.
“You guys really got into a fight?” Grey’s brow furrows. All I can do is nod. I can’t look at him. Grey has a way of getting everyone’s secrets.
Atlas snorts, clapping me on the back. “Just let us know he’s still alive. We can’t lose another goalie.” He laughs.
I don’t have it in me to joke. I’m falling apart at the poorly sewn seams. “Can I shower?” Although I took one before we left the arena, I need the steam to clear my head.
Grey’s smoky eyes examine me a moment before he goes to his bag and pulls out a pair of sweats. “Go ahead. Shower. Hang the towel up when you’re done.”
“Thanks.” I head to the bathroom, catching Grey’s eyes as I pass. Something fills them, but I can’t go down that road right now. I’m not sure what’s happening, but I sure as shit need to figure it out before I let anyone in—if I let anyone in. If I can even make sense of it.
Ignoring the look my best friend gave me, I strip down in their bathroom, then I step under the spray, turning it as hot as my nerve endings will allow. It’s only when steam clouds the bathroom that I let my mind slip, and I know I’m so fucked.
Hazel eyes, dripping with want.
