Page 57 of Roleplay at Randy's
I shake my head, the tiniest laugh tickling my throat as he spreads his fingers to pinch my cheeks together. “It’s really not, I promise.”
He drops his hand and pulls me close by the hips, sighing softly into my hair. “I couldn’t tell you a damn thing about any sport known to man.”
The tickle grows stronger, and I bury my face in his throat, soaking in the scent of his body wash. “I’m going to have fun with this.”
Who am I kidding? I was a goner for this man the moment we met. As soon as he signed my name, I knew that my heart was off to the races.
I should just accept that this is going to hurt.
“That man is twiceyour size and scary as hell!”
Elias and I decided to get comfy on his bed, both dressed in only a pair of sweats with my laptop half on my lap and half on his, going through backlog game footage on The Hornets’ website.
“He is a puppy dog,” I reply with a snort. “He retired at the end of last season—sport’s injury—but if you’ll take a look here.” I pull up a rather grizzly fight where the Hornets’ goalie throws down his gloves and absolutely pummels another player. “Thatis Riley’s current boyfriend, Griffin.”
I’m insanely fucking happy for the two of them, even if a kernel of want pops around like a firecracker in my chest.
“You’re telling me the love of your life was a freaking monster on ice?” His eyes are almost as wide as his grin, and he rubs dramatically at his chest. “How am I gonna live up to that?”
I roll my eyes hard and knock my shoulder on his. “Not the love of my life, troublemaker.”
He shrugs and pushes back. “It’s really hard to imagine you and him together.”
My lip is raw and sore from how much I’ve been digging into it, but I bite down a little harder as I grab my phone and start scrolling through my camera roll.
“I can do you one better.”
Call it masochistic tendencies, but I haven’t deleted a thing. Every single picture and video I ever recorded of Riley and I is saved in a special folder with a boldDO NOT OPENlabel. It’s been a long ass time since I ventured to disobey my past self, but what am I about to do?
Open the damn folder.
It’s like a time capsule of heartache.
I often took photos of Riley doing the most mundane things: cooking, stretching, analyzing plays on the couch with barbecue potato chip crumbs in his beard. Selfies of the two of us could be found every so often, usually with Riley doing something to make me laugh at the last second.
There’s one that brings tears to my eyes, and I blink them away before Lee can spot them.
It’s Riley and me in bed. My hair is a mess, cheeks are flushed, eyes closed, and Riley is beside me with the warmest smile, humoring me with his lips pressed to my hair. We undoubtedly had just finished fooling around, because he was always most relaxed after and more likely to goof off with me.
Shit. That right there is what I miss.
I feel Lee’s presence looking over my shoulder, and I don’t try to hide even if that’s exactly what my mind is screaming to do. He wraps an arm around my shoulders, places a kiss to the side of my neck, and the softness between us has the tears stinging my eyes again.
Hot breath and hushed words brush the shell of my ear, but it’s my worse off one so I can’t make them out. I tilt my head, and his face is so close, eyes half-lidded, and I don’t think it matters exactly what he said, because I can see the question, and can feel the desire threatening to explode between us.
I raise my arm and grip onto the hairs at the back of his neck, and that’s all the permission he needs. Our lips meet in a tentative taste of one another, Lee’s tongue tracing the outline of my mouth, and I breathe him in unhurriedly. One hand cups my cheek, and the other slides down my torso all wandering fingers and exploratory touches.
Yes. This.
I love the passion of sex, no question, but this? Thebuildup of need and tension, circling my gut with every swipe of his tongue and flick of his nails across my sides—this is what I crave.
Riley was always amazed at how long I could last in bed, playing and teasing, but as much as I love getting off, this is where the true pleasure lies.
I’m in no hurry to get our dicks involved; I just want to relish in how Lee’s body feels on mine.
He rolls to his back, taking me with him, and I adjust myself so I’m straddling him. My hands are lost in his hair, short but thick, and his are busy mapping the shivers he draws out across my skin.
“Matty.”
