Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Just before I came, he’d asked if he could fuck me and that was how I’d wound up bent over the kitchen counter with my pajama bottoms and boxer briefs pooled at my ankles getting pounded into oblivion. Heaven.
That wasn’t the last time we’d had sex. No, this was becoming a regular thing.
The other day, I’d blown him in the hallway. Gus had just gotten home from practice, freshly showered, and glowing with a post-workout aura. Call me crazy, but he’d looked positively delectable. I’d pushed him against the wall, sunk to my knees, and the rest was history. And last night, he’d collapsed on the sofa, legs spread, and asked what I was watching. I’d been honest…to a fault.
“Your cock.”
Gus had waggled his brows and cupped his package through his sweatpants. “Yeah? Want to sit on it?”
The over-the-top mannerism and lascivious invitation was the opposite of sexy, but this was Gus we were talking about. There was no romance here. This was just two horny roommates relieving some pent-up sexual tension. I appreciated his direct approach. In our current situationship, it was a breath of fresh air.
So yes, I’d taken Gus up on his offer and ridden his cock.
Had I become a common trollop?
Maybe so.
A week later, I was addicted. I thought about Gus all the time. I looked forward to morning coffee or lazy nights in front of the flat-screen as much as I enjoyed becoming carnally acquainted. It was glorious and—
I jolted as Boris clapped loudly in my ear.
“…if you don’t land properly, you cannot expect to get the height you need. Low jumps? No one wants to see that squat nonsense or the…”
I nodded in agreement but tuned Boris out for the sake of sanity. Of course, he was right, and I knew it. My landings had been tepid lately, and it didn’t take an insightful therapist to figure out the root of my problem.
I was afraid to fall.
More accurately, I was afraid to fall and not have enough time before the championships to heal. It was as if I were reserving my energy and resources for the main event. Not okay.
If I didn’t show the same passion on the ice now that I had during the season, I might not be invited to the qualifiers, let alone make the team. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to remove this self-imposed governor and give it my all.
Or I’d fail.
No. Not an option.
I nearly groaned aloud when Eli cornered me in the locker room. I hadn’t spoken to him since our date and the timing couldn’t have been worse.
But I smiled, ’cause it wasn’t his fault that my jumps sucked or that I was infatuated with my roommate.
“Hey, I was wondering if you’re free this weekend.”
“I…um, no. I’m sorry. I’m not,” I replied, oozing awkwardness at an alarming rate.
He arched his brows curiously. “Is everything okay?”
I made a production of checking the blade on my right skate as I nodded. “Yes, yes…fine.”
“Good. Well, let’s meet for coffee or—"
“No, thanks.” I took a deep breath and deciding honesty was the best policy, I blurted, “Don’t get me wrong, I had a nice time last week, but I don’t think we should date.”
Well done, Rafe. Add something about being friends now.
I opened my mouth to impart a few words of wisdom, but the calculating glint in his eyes stopped me.
“I disagree,” he said, leaning casually against the locker. “Being seen with each other is a good thing. People talk and if they think we’re together we’ll get some publicity for Smithton…and for ourselves.”
Huh?
“Eli, I don’t know how to say this nicely, but I’m not really interested in you that way.”
He smirked. “It doesn’t have to be real. We’ll just let our teammates think it is, and word will spread. A new romance between two guys on the same team, hoping for a spot on the championship roster is interesting.”
“Is it?”
“Trust me on this…yes. You know how small the figure skating world is. Exposure plus talent can be a powerful weapon.”
“Weapon,” I repeated, wrinkling my nose in distaste. “Thanks for the offer, but…I don’t think so. No one cares about—”
“They do, and if they care enough, you’ll get your club sponsorship.”
I gaped at him. “But that’s lying.”
“It’s a white lie,” he corrected indulgently. “We don’t have to do anything physically. We can just…”
“Hold pinky fingers?”
Eli winked. “Yeah. I like you, Rafe. I think you like me. Neither of us is dating anyone…or are you seeing someone?”
A week of amazing sex with my roommate wasn’t “seeing someone,” so…
“I—no,” I confirmed.
“So why not help each other out? We’re both really good at what we do, and we’re good press for Smithton. We’re also in the same position. I need a place to land after graduation that’s worth a crap too. Spots are limited for the championships, but if we play our cards right, we could make everyone happy. Be a team within the team. Think about it.”