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His shaggy brown hair is unstyled, his ripped jeans are tight, and the cocky smirk that has haunted me for three years is still the same.
His wide pecs and sculpted abs made my feet trip over themselves. I was assaulted with a sight my young and naïve eyes couldn’t handle. Pfft, naïve.
Benji had a beautiful voice. He totally could’ve taken over lead vocals if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Yet, his raspy voice never had my cock at full attention or my hands wanting to explore all of him like Soren’s did.
His mouth came down on mine, his tongue teasing my lips before forcing its way into my mouth. A loud groan filled the small space of the elevator.
Ollie leans in and mutters under his breath. “If you think you’re getting away with that boy band knowledge scot-free, you’re mistaken.” So close.
Even though I was achy all over, my cock didn’t care. It wanted more of Soren—as much as it could get.
I refused to become the clichéd rock star addicted to coke before he’d even become famous. I was going to wait until I could afford rehab to need it.
Soren’s hand trailed over my back as we ground against each other. His thick thigh was between mine, his breath on my skin, and my cock begged for more.
“Yeah. Perfect for someone else. Got it.”
“Hold up. Let me get this straight. We’re living in a world where not one but two people have granted Noah custody of a child.”
My gaze lands on Jet, and I notice he’s as overjoyed about it as I am. Maybe the answer to my burning question for him lies in his downcast eyes and the small pout of his lips. He might’ve fallen in love with someone else, but I know that look. I’ve worn that look before. Jet’s not here because of nodes. He’s here because he’s heartbroken.
All the love in the air is making me choke. I can deep throat like a champ, but love and romance? That I gag on.
Not being able to be with the person you love is not romantic. It’s painful.
Caleb Sorensen caring about me is the last thing I need right now because the stupid kid with love hearts in his eyes is fighting to make an appearance again.
Under your spell, Living in hell, You say I’m perfect, Too good to be someone’s reject, But that’s what you did when you walked away, You left me to find myself Something niggles at me. Whether it’s the way he’s singing it or that we both relate to it, I don’t know. It’s like he’s singing it to me. About me. Then he finally raises his head and holds my gaze just as he sings a telling line. You said I was perfect … Perfect for someone else.
“I’m sorry I wrote two emo songs about you,”
Jet’s thumb moves slowly across my bottom lip, and that’s invitation enough for me. I close the small gap between us, our mouths coming together, hungry and hot. His other hand joins the first, holding me to him as his tongue seeks out mine. Urgency and need have me pulling him closer.
Soren’s mouth ravishes mine again, strong and demanding, leading me to only one conclusion. I’m screwed. I’m so screwed.
How is telling my brothers I’m going through a breakup a favor?” “Because it’s better than telling them you and Soren have been making eyes at each other all night,”
Every time Jet’s ass brushes against my cock, I begin to wish we weren’t on a boat in front of an entire group of guys. While I’m at it, I wish we were naked too.
Soren’s hand dips into my trunks and wraps around my cock. “I was thinking about getting you off. You know, to help fill our fun quota. Because I cannot take another bumpy ride without touching you, and this is technically in front of your brother … so it doesn’t break the rules.”
Jet’s eyes rake over me and down to my cock which is hard as nails and pointing right at him as if to say him—I pick him!
Soft lips land on my shoulder and trail up to my neck. “I have an idea.” “If it involves more of your lips on me, I have to say I’m on board.” Even if I shouldn’t be. There’s no point trying to hold back. The pull I have toward Soren is insurmountable.
“Age has nothing to do with maturity. Look at those two.” I point to Talon and Miller who are skating around competently, Miller behind Talon and holding his waist while Talon holds his arms out screaming, “I’m king of the world!”
I kiss him softly but keep it controlled, taking it slow and letting my tongue move against his.
“There’s something else,” Jet says, his eyes still locked on mine. “Soren’s coming with me.”
“Isn’t bro code something like ‘Thou shalt not fuck each other’s siblings’?” “In my defense, I fucked Jet before I was friends with you, so technically …”
In a selfish world, voices get drowned out by everyone trying to out-woe each other.
“Do your research, boys. Wrong hockey player.”
He pauses only for a second before jumping into my arms and kissing the fuck outta me. I groan into his mouth and pull back.
Harley whines. “Damn it. Why’d your boyfriend have to be nice?” “He’s Canadian. He can’t help it.” “Sorry.” Soren shrugs.
“Oh, yeah. He says my midlife crisis looks desperate and sad. He also had a lot to say about my gallivanting all over the country with the rock star I was unhealthily obsessed with during our relationship to the point he suspected something was going on even though I promised that I just liked your music.”
His arms wrap around me, he moves closer, and his mouth meets mine. Jet kisses me soft and meaningfully, and it’s easy to forget Harley even exists in the same universe when his lips are on mine.
I was going to do this.” I cup his jaw and kiss him, soft and sweet.
All I want to do tonight is lay him down and worship his body that fits perfectly with mine. I want to bring him unforgettable pleasure until he won’t have any choice but to pine for me while we’re apart. We stumble into our hotel room, all mouths and tongues and hands.
I expect it from my teammates. Hell, them breaking out into “Hat Trick Heartbreak” isn’t all that surprising. It’s funny but not surprising. What does get me is even the coaches get in on it.
“Yeah, well, anyone with eyes would be able to tell that I’m in love with you now, you … you … I’ll use language your Canadian ass will understand, you big, dumb hoser!”
Jet grips my shirt. “I just want you.” He kisses me hard and pulls me close, but his arms put pressure around my middle where I’m still sore.
“Fuck it, we’ll talk right now and get it over with. Jet, I want you to be my boyfriend. Like, my proper, not just dating, not putting on a show for the media, boyfriend. I want that to be our truth. I don’t want anyone else touching you. Ever. Because this”—I grab his ass and pull him against me—“is mine.”
“Because you’ve always held a piece of my heart, but I’m giving all of it to you right now. I love you, Jet.”
My mouth opens to protest the old remark, even if my body whole-heartedly agrees, but Jet lands on his knees in front of me, his mouth teasing me through my sweats, and I groan instead. “Bed,” I rasp.
I reach between us and take his cock in my hand and stroke slowly.
He goes to say something, but I cut him off by pulling him to me, our bodies slamming against each other, and then I ravish his mouth before he gets the chance to even get a word out.
“I asked Jet to marry me.”
