Page 28 of The Poster Boy
I propped myself up with my free hand, keeping him down by planting it on his lower back. Jay hadn’t moved since he finished except to hide his face in his arms. I hated that he couldn’t even look at me. Not that I’d wanted him to. While he wasn’t scowling at me, I could pretend that he didn’t hate me.
My orgasm hit me almost by surprise. It stole my breath as I jerked and splattered his ass cheek with my cum. I watched, mesmerized as it ran down his skin, slow and sticky. I came so hard I saw stars for a moment. I’d stopped breathing and thinking. Everything had gone bright and quiet and for a few seconds, everything was great. Then my brain started up again and the world came rushing back in.
Jay lay sprawled on the bed on his stomach, still not looking at me. I had a handful of cum, my shirt was over my head, and my pants were around my knees. At least the mess on my outsides matched the mess on my insides.
“I should go.”
Jay didn’t respond. I wondered if he was even alive or if I’d fucked him to death. His back rose and fell in a rhythm that wasn’t quite one of a sleeping man, but one of someone pretending to be sleeping. I could take the hint. He wantedme gone. No chat. No touching base. Just hit it and quit it. I could live with that.
I wiped my hand on the bedding because it was already ruined, and because fuck him, that’s why. Getting to my feet, I fixed my shirt and my pants. Then without a word, I crept to the door and looked out the peephole to make sure the hallway was empty.
“For what it’s worth, Jay, I’d happily do that again.”
Again, he didn’t answer, just like I’d expected.
I let myself out of his room and tried hard not to hate myself for letting that happen. It was proof that I was starting to unravel if I was willing to fuck a man who couldn’t stand the sight of me. Suddenly exhausted, I returned to my room and curled up in bed, but sleep didn’t take me for a long time.
Chapter 14
Jay
By the time I’d formulated a response, Marek was gone. It was for the best really, because there was no way that was ever going to happen again. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. But he’d walked so boldly into my room and caught me off-guard.
I tried not to think of how fucking good it had been. Or of the way I’d felt when he’d caged me against the door. I should’ve told him to fuck off. But I hadn’t. Because as much as he’d annoyed me when he first got traded, I didn’t hate him. I hated that he kissed the media’s ass. Mostly, I’d been frosty because he was out, and I was still hard up half the time, too scared to make a move in case someone outed me the way they’d outed him. Myers was my worst fear come to life.
So maybe I’d acted like an asshole. And maybe I’d pretended to be asleep when he was done busting his nut all over me like he was marking his territory or some shit. The truth was… I’d have done it all again right then. Not just because I was horny. Because Myers had been that good.
Of fucking course he had. The universe clearly hatedme. I’d gotten just enough of Myers to know that I wanted more, which pissed me off all over again. And that resulted in me resorting to my old way of coping with anything uncomfortable—ignoring it and hoping it would go away. It never worked, and yet there I was, doing my best not to interact with Myers. I was as frosty as ever and that asshole just let it roll off his back like it didn’t even matter.
Like I didn’t matter.
It was probably for the best, but his nonchalance pissed me off. I was ignoring him, so he was doing it right back, and that was childish of him. Irrational, me? Never.
The one upside to maintaining the status quo between us was that Boone didn’t notice, and that man noticed everything. Boone was a good friend, a great captain, and a horrible fucking snoop. If he had any idea that I’d taken his advice, but with the last possible person he’d ever expect, I’d never hear the end of it.
Boone was one of the few people who knew that I was gay.
“What about the hotties you bring to charity events?” he asked.
“It’s not hard to match with a good-looking woman when you make a couple million a year.”
He’d only nodded, then knocked the bottom of his beer on the top of mine, making it foam everywhere.
“You’re in a better mood.” Boone dropped down next to me on the couch. We had a couple days’ break between games and the luxury of it happening while we were at home. We still had to train our asses off in the weight room and on the ice, but it was nice to get a little time away from Myers.
Boone nudged me with his elbow when I didn’t respond.
“Yes?”
“You got laid, didn’t you?”
Slowly, I turned my head to look at him, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly.
“You sure are obsessed with my dick. There something you want to tell me, Boone?”
He shoved me. “I’m not obsessed with your dick, asshole.”
“You’re obsessed with my asshole now? Boone, it’s okay. You can tell me anything.”
