Page 60 of The Quarterback
It took everything not to kiss Nick right there in front of the pilot and the flight attendant and the last few passengers pulling down their bags. “Let’s go home. I’ll give you the celebration you deserve.”
Chapter Eighteen
Knocking brokeNick’s third reverie of the afternoon.
He’d been remembering how Colton had looked at him in bed the night before, after they got back from the airport. How Colton’s fingers had played in his hair as he kissed Nick slowly, how their hips seemed to move as one, hard cock grinding against hard cock, almost like they were making love.
He shifted, trying to put Colton and what they were doing out of his mind. He needed to focus. “What’s up?”
Colton slipped in as if Nick’s thoughts had summoned him. He shut the door behind himself. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He couldn’t help it. He smiled and came across his office to squeeze Colton’s waist and drop a kiss to his lips. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just missed you.”
“We had lunch an hour ago.” He kissed Colton again. “Together.”
Colton’s eyes were sly, his lips twisting as he fought a smile. “I had an idea about something, and I wanted to run it by you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. Come sit down.” Colton led him to his couch and guided him to sit in the center. But instead of joining him, Colton sank to his knees in front of Nick. He put his hands on Nick’s knees and spread his thighs.
“Colton—”
“Shh.” Colton unbuckled his belt and pulled down his zipper. “Jim is in his office, and Lizbeth is outside the door. You don’t want them to hear, do you?”
He tried to stifle his groan as Colton opened his fly and put both hands down his pants. Colton wrapped his fingers around Nick’s cock, cupped his balls. Nick had been soft less than a minute ago, but Colton’s presence, his touch, that mischievous light in his eyes as he stared up at Nick were enough to make him dizzy, all his blood rushing south. His cock grew hard, painfully hard, jutting from his crotch.
Colton hooked the waistband of his boxers beneath his balls. “Fuck, yes,” he breathed. His calloused thumb rolled over Nick’s cock head, spreading a pearl of precome. Nick jerked, and he bit his lip as he grabbed the couch cushions. Colton dragged his hands up under Nick’s dress shirt, sliding his fingers over the fur on his chest. He kneaded Nick’s pecs, fingertips brushing the nubs of Nick’s nipples. They were as sensitive as they’d been the first time Colton had put his lips and his tongue on them, shocking Nick with bolts of lightning that seemed to arc through him and circle the base of his cock.
Now, Colton dragged his fingernails over Nick’s nipple at the same time he ran his tongue from the root of Nick’s cock all the way to its swollen head.
Nick forced a moan back down his throat. His heels dug into the carpet, and the couch leather squealed in his white-knuckled grasp. He stared at Colton, not breathing, trying to memorize the moment.
Colton’s lips closed around his cock.
Nick tried to breathe, but his lungs could only drag in shallow pants. Fire burned beneath his skin. He wanted to thrust into Colton’s mouth. He wanted to sink his hands into Colton’s hair. Colton was insatiable, his greedy tongue everywhere, swirling around the head of Nick’s cock and then sliding down the shaft, pressing into Nick’s steely hardness on Colton’s upward suck. He hummed, and Nick shuddered and then went electric as Colton took him all the way down the back of his throat. His thighs quaked as everything inside him melted. His cock throbbed, and he could feel precome flowing from him, a river of it, filling Colton’s mouth and making everything impossibly hotter.
He grasped the back of Colton’s head and thrust into his throat. Colton’s silky hair slipped through his fingers. He was buried to his balls in Colton’s mouth. Colton’s eyes were watering, his face was red, and spit poured out from around his lips, soaking Nick’s crotch and his balls. Colton’s pupils were blown wide, as sex-drunk as Nick had ever seen him. His eyelids fluttered closed, and he moaned around Nick’s cock.
The world went thin, like a balloon about to burst. Nick was on the edge, barely holding on. Colton’s hands were still beneath his shirt, and he grabbed both of Nick’s nipples and pinched, hard.
Nothing could stop his orgasm after that. He threw his head back, clenched his teeth, and dug his fingers into Colton’s scalp as his balls exploded and he came, and came, and came down Colton’s throat. Colton kept swallowing—God, swallowing every drop—as Nick’s orgasm rolled on and on.
He whimpered, falling forward over Colton, whose lips and mouth were still suctioned to Nick’s softening cock.
Finally, Colton sucked his way off Nick’s spent dick, mouth coming off the head with apop. He sat back and grinned, breathing hard, his hands gliding down Nick’s body until they squeezed his thighs. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” Jesus, his voice was husky. Cock-ruined.
Nick lunged at him, kissing him desperately as his knees hit the floor in front of Colton. He could taste himself inside Colton’s mouth, feel the scalding slickness of his come still lingering on Colton’s tongue.
He spun Colton around and pressed him facedown across the coffee table in front of his couch. Colton’s breath pushed out of him as he landed on his belly, his hips at the edge of the glass and his ass perfectly positioned in front of Nick’s face.
In less than a second, he had Colton’s belt undone, his fly unzipped, his pants and boxers pulled down to his thighs. Exposing that perfect, round ass. One cheek filled each of his palms. He squeezed, hard. Muscle and flesh flexed under his fingers. Colton groaned.
Nick shot forward, his body covering Colton’s. “Shh,” he breathed against Colton’s cheek. “You have to be quiet.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
