Page 39 of The Long Game
Ilya’s smile looked soft, and helpless. “I know. They made me chicken parmesan. And there was ice cream.”
“Sounds healthy and well-balanced.”
Ilya shook his head. “What is the point of life if you are not eating chicken parmesan and ice cream?”
“I can think of some good things,” Shane said as he gently caressed himself through his underwear. “Besides food.”
“High interval training?” Ilya asked dryly.
“Shut up. I’m trying to be sexy.”
“Oh. Okay. I was not sure.” He stretched one arm over his head and let his hand drape casually against the pillow. “So what is the plan?”
“Plan?”
“You are in charge, yes? You want a reward? What do you want me to do?”
“Um.” Shane wished he could respond to that sort of question without blushing. Ilya always managed to be perfectly filthy without embarrassment. “Touch yourself.”
Ilya poked his own nose. “Like this?”
Shane looked skyward in frustration. “Why are you like this?”
“Because it is fun.”
“You know what? Fuck this. Take your dick out and get yourself hard while I watch.”
Ilya was silent for a moment, blinking at the screen. Then, quietly, he said, “Yes. Okay.”
In seconds, Ilya was naked, and Shane could see him from his thighs to the top of his head. Shane was pleased to see his cock was half hard already, the head beginning to peek out of the foreskin. Shane licked his lips.
“I wish you were here right now,” Shane said.
“Be weird. With your teammates around.”
“Then I wish I was at your house right now. Stop being difficult.”
Ilya smiled lazily as he stroked himself. “I want to touch you. I miss you.”
“I always miss you.” Shane’s throat felt tight, which was a ridiculous sensation to experience when watching your boyfriend jerk off. He swallowed hard and said, “You look hot.”
“Probably.”
Shane’s lips curved up and he added, “For a guy who just had his move stolen.”
That made Ilya laugh and smile so wide his eyes crinkled. Shane laughed too, and tried not to be terrified by how much he felt for this man.
Ilya’s laughter morphed into a sigh of pleasure as he kept stroking his cock. “Is this all you want?”
“Yeah,” Shane said, barely above a whisper. “Just want to watch you.”
It was true, and it wasn’t true. Shane wanted to climb through the phone and sit on Ilya’s lap. Watching Ilya stroke himself was a decent consolation prize, though.
“I want you to be here,” Ilya said.
“Me too. Wanna touch you. Wanna...fuck, I want to see you come.”
Ilya spread his legs wider and leaned back more on the pillows behind him. “Put your glasses on, then.”
