Page 65 of Played
“What about my family?” he says gently. “I don’t care about hiding us from the rest of the world, but my family’s different.”
I screw my eyes closed. The thought of anyone knowing I’m gay is terrifying, but I already trust Drake and Elijah. And Nathan seemed to suspect something last night. “Will they all be discreet?”
He places his hands on my face until I open my eyes. “I promise you they will take your secret to their graves if I ask them to.”
What would it feel like to have a family willing to protect me that way? I push those thoughts aside and focus on him and how good it feels to have him here, with my hands on him and his on me. How good it’s going to feel in the morning to wake up beside him in my bed. “Then we can tell your family.”
His smile makes my knees tremble. “Then I’m yours, Hotshot.”
Relief and desire wash over me. “Yeah you are.” I push him back against the wall and crash my lips on his. I expect him to fight for control, especially after last night, but his mouth yields to mine in an instant. I flick my tongue against his, grinding my stiff cock into him and moaning into his mouth. It would be so easy to spin him around and fuck his perfect ass right here and now. The number of times I’ve sat on my sofa and imagined doing exactly that is bordering on obsessive. But his stomach growls loudly.
I pull back, a grin on my face. “You hungry?”
He winces, a smirk playing over his full lips. “Haven’t eaten a thing since breakfast.”
“I have a couple steaks. I could do some potatoes too. Nothing fancy like you’re used to, but it’s good food.”
He trails his knuckles down my cheek, and I find myself leaning into his touch. “First off, Hotshot, you have no idea what I’m used to. And second, you cook?”
“I’ve lived alone for eighteen years. Of course I fucking cook.”
His eyes twinkle with amusement. “Clearly you can sustain yourself, but I assumed you lived on protein shakes and gym-bro granola bars.”
I bite the inside of my cheek and try my best to glare at him—and fail miserably. He wrinkles his nose like he’s trying to stop himself from laughing. “What the hell are gym-bro granola bars?” I ask.
“Granola bars for gym bros.” He tips his head to the side and smirks.
My hands still on his waist, I drag him closer and rub my cock on his, stifling the groan that elicits in me. “You should really learn to curb that smart mouth of yours, Playboy, or I might have to teach you some manners.”
“I don’t mind a little etiquette lesson. But we should definitely eat first.”
I press a final long, messy kiss on his perfect lips before going to cook me and my boyfriend some dinner.
Chapter
Thirty-Two
MASON
We sit on opposite ends of the sofa, satisfied but not overfull from the exceptionally good steak and potatoes King cooked. I did offer to help, but he insisted that I do nothing more than drink beer and look good, which I excelled at. I enjoyed watching this giant hulk of a man maneuver nimbly around his kitchen with a dish towel slung over his shoulder and his biceps straining against his T-shirt.
It’s obvious he’s at ease in a kitchen, but here and now, with nothing to focus on but me and him and whatever this new thing is between us, he’s clearly uncomfortable. I’m not exactly a relationship kind of guy, but I’ve been on enough dates to feel comfortable sitting like this. Not King though.
I slide my bare toes beneath his muscular thigh. “How many relationships have you actually been in?”
He sucks on his top lip before he answers. “Only two, I guess.”
“Were they serious?”
He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I was engaged to one of them.”
I almost spit out the swig of Bud I just took. “Engaged? To a guy?”
He scowls. “Of course not a guy.”
His unguarded reaction hurts despite me knowing how deep in the closet he is. “Obviously. I just didn’t realize you were bi.”
He scrunches up his nose, and it makes him look fucking adorable. “I don’t think I am. I can fuck a woman, but I’m not really into them, you know?”
