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Game On

Page 73

by A. Winchester

Home safe. Took the three of them home with me.

MOM: Good. Thank you for letting me know.

Go to sleep, Mom.

MOM: I will. Bring Jude over tomorrow for a late breakfast. I want to talk to you boys.

I don’t like the sound of that.

MOM: Everything’s fine, baby boy. Sometimes I like to see how my boys are doing.

Okay.

MOM: I love you.

I love you too.

After getting Jude and Theo set up in the second bedroom and putting Wyatt on the couch, I crashed. I managed to strip down to my boxer briefs before dropping into bed. My eyes had been shut for all of a few minutes when the door creaked open, hesitant and soft—the kind of sound as if someone were trying their damnedest to keep quiet.

Theo.

I didn’t open my eyes as I listened to the door click shut once more and the lock engaged with the faintest of clicks. The floor groaned, and a smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I listened to him start and stop repeatedly, figuring out how to walk unnoticed across the room. I waited, offering no indication that I was awake. Granted, if he knew anything about me—and he did—he knew he’d woken me. I wasn’t a deep sleeper. Situational awareness made sure of that.

The mattress dipped behind me, and the covers lifted. Cool air slid across my back only to be quickly replaced by the warmth of his body as he slid in close. His breath was steady against the back of my neck, and his arm draped over my side. His touch was tentative as his palm settled against my stomach. Like me, he wore nothing but his boxers, and the heat of his body was scorching against mine. I didn’t move, and I didn’t speak. I simply let him settle down. His forehead pressed between my shoulder blades as his body curled around mine. The sigh he let out fanned over my skin, and I felt him melt into me.

Time became immeasurable as the rhythm of my breathing fell in sync with his. My fingers found the curve of his elbow, and I traced the muscle down his forearm. My touch was featherlight as it skimmed across his skin, just a mindless touch because I wanted to. Because I needed to feel him. My hand wandered across the ridge of his wrist and over his knuckles. I explored the bones in his hand, one by one, and felt how his hand flexed for all of a moment as if silently inviting my fingers to lace through his.

Behind me, his breath caught in his chest. I heard the quick but quiet inhale. Against my ass, his dick thickened, and he shifted slightly, pulling back as if to hide it—as if that wasn’t the point of him sneaking into my bedroom. And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe this was about comfort and cuddling, but there was no denying the effect either of us had on each other.

I let my fingers trail back up his arm, taking my time and gauging his response. His hips twitched, a tiny involuntary movement, and he managed to maintain distance between us. My own cock pressed half-hard against the front of my boxer briefs, growing harder with every passing minute.

My fingers found the back of his neck. I traced his hairline and enjoyed the little shiver that ran through him. Having him at my back wasn’t enough. Little touches weren’t enough. It didn’t matter that I was dead tired and probably should’ve just gone to sleep. I rolled over slowly anyway, the sheets rustling and my knee sliding between his thighs. His face was inches from mine, his eyes wide and his mouth parted slightly. I dragged my thumb over his lower lip and felt his breath stutter in his chest. I was wildly aware of every place his body touched mine—the spread of his fingers over my rib cage, the instinctive shift of his hips to be closer, the slight tilt in his chin as he waited for me to close the distance between us. Every nerve in my body begged for it.

But instead, I just stared at him—truly admired him. No matter how many times I looked at him, I found myself catching on the little details. On the things most people overlooked. Like the faint freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose that were lost in his tan and the endless shades of blue in his irises. I knew the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed and how the dimple on the left always made an appearance first.

And as I stared at him, it occurred to me that I didn’t know a single person’s face as well as I knew his. Not even my own.

His hand found my wrist, and his thumb rubbed mindlessly across the back of my hand. Leaning in, my mouth brushed against his in the barest of touches. His hold on me tightened as a tiny sigh of relief escaped him. The sound wrapped around my chest in a vise grip, and I kissed him. My hand slid across his jaw, and my fingers threaded into his hair. The softness of it, the warmth of his mouth, the shallow pants he let out—I felt all of it. It was comforting.

His hips rocked against my thigh, no longer shying away from how hard he was. I teetered the line between wanting to explore every inch of him and wanting to fuck him until all he felt was me. It was so easy to fall into him. To let the world fade away until nothing but him consumed me.

I just kissed him, taking time as if we had it. Like sunrise wasn’t around the corner, and reality wouldn’t come crashing back in. All that mattered was the way his mouth moved against mine, the slide of my tongue across his, and the little way his breath caught when my teeth grazed over his lower lip.

His hand flattened against my chest and dragged over my skin, fingers tracing the ridges of my muscles. As he did, his mouth trailed along my jaw and down my neck. I rolled onto my back as his body covered mine and surrendered to him. It wasn’t a concept that came easily for me, but at that moment, I didn’t think twice about it. I simply let him take control.

His teeth scraped against my pulse, sending a shiver through my body. Mindlessly, I brushed my fingers through his hair as his mouth trailed across my collarbone and down my chest. His tongue traced a slow circle around my nipple, and his teeth grazed over the taut peak. I sucked in a sharp breath, my body tensing as I felt the contact in my cock. He repeated the action, and my hips thrust upward on instinct.

His hand found the waistband of my boxer briefs while his mouth drifted over to my other nipple. A moan caught in my throat as Theo teased me. Anticipation coiled through my core as he tested my reactions, and I worked to stay silent. Every little touch and flick of his tongue drove me crazy until I was breathing hard, skin flushed and cock leaking.

“Touch me, little wolf,” I ordered as my impatience got the better of me, “or so help me, I will flip you and fuck you into this mattress.”

Theo chuckled softly, the sound loud in the quiet room, and his fingers hooked into my waistband. I lifted my hips as he pulled the fabric down to my ankles. While I kicked them off, he slid off the mattress and stripped. I felt the weight of his gaze on me as he crawled back on the bed. Settling between my thighs, he kissed the curve of my hipbone. His breath ghosted over my cock—hard, leaking, and lying desperately against my stomach—and my whole body sang with a need for more. Reaching down, I threaded my fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face so I could see him better.

Theo’s hand wrapped around the base of my cock, and he ran the flat of his tongue along the vein in my shaft. A deep groan of appreciation vibrated through my chest. His lips closed around the tip, and his tongue circled the crown.

“Fuck,” I breathed out.

He took the word as an encouragement to keep going. He sank lower, taking me inch by inch until I was buried in his throat. I let him set the pace, finding the rhythm and depth that worked for him. I felt the stretch of his jaw and how his throat muscles worked around me as he bobbed up and down my length. With every pass, he used his hand to stroke what his mouth didn’t cover.