Deep crevices formed between his eyebrows, and his lips pulled tight as he thrust harder. “God, yeah…”

  “You gonna come?” I asked breathlessly. “Oh, yeah. Please come.”

  He sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight, and his fingers bit into my side. “Mmph, yeah…” Then his hips jerked, and he gasped as hot cum landed on my hand and my stomach.

  I kept stroking him, but mostly I just stared, completely stunned that I’d made a man—especially this man—come.

  He put a gentle hand on my wrist to stop my strokes, and I let him go. Meeting my eyes, he panted, “Nicely done.”

  I laughed, my head spinning. “That was hot.”

  Cole licked his lips. “Mmhmm, it was.” He kissed me lightly, then looked around. “Tissues? Ah, there.” He grabbed the box off the nightstand, and we cleaned the cum off both of us.

  Once that was taken care of, he stretched out beside me again, looking all satisfied and sexy and just… Wow. How was it legal for a man to be this beautiful?

  “So now I’ve gotten off,” he whispered. Looking right in my eyes, he teased my balls with his fingertips, and whatever he said next didn’t register over his feather light touch.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. “Fuck…”

  He laughed softly and kissed me. Then he pressed against me, and I let him nudge me onto my back. As he started kissing his way to my neck, he murmured, “Do you want me to blow you?”

  I gasped, the thought of his lips on my dick making me hot all over. “Yeah. Y-yeah. Definitely.”

  His lips curved against my skin, and he continued kissing his way down my throat. His hand roamed my torso, sliding over my shoulder, my chest, my abs—places I hadn’t imagined being erogenous, but wow, every touch seemed to make my cock even harder. And if his hand made me hot, his mouth nearly set me on fire. Why hadn’t anyone told me my nipples could be that sensitive? Or that a man’s chin gently abrading my abs would feel that sexy? I’d always watched blowjobs and fucking in porn and skipped over this part, but I wouldn’t anymore. Not now that I knew how amazing it felt.

  Cole nipped just above my navel, making my abs contract, and I grunted.

  He laughed softly. Then he kissed where he’d bitten, and he kept working his way down.

  I could barely lie still. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I watched him, my lips parted and my heart thumping. He glanced up at me through his lashes, and Jesus, he was hot. He looked so wicked and devilish, and—

  “Oh, fuck!” I dropped back onto the mattress as he ran his tongue all the way up the length of my dick. “Whoa.”

  Cole laughed softly, the rush of breath cooling my damp skin, and then he really went to town. He steadied my dick with his fingers around the base, and… And he… What was he…

  I lifted myself up again to watch, completely awestruck by the magic he worked with his lips and tongue. He ran his tongue around the head. Took me all the way into the wet heat of his mouth. Licked up the length again.

  And every now and then, he’d glance up again, looking at me through those long lashes, and how had I not come yet? How was I not going off in his talented mouth already? Because I was that turned on. My second orgasm was building fast, but it already felt like I’d gone past the point where I’d have come if I’d been jerking off, and I didn’t know what to do with all this restless energy rising with every squeeze of his lips or brush of his tongue.

  “Oh my God,” I murmured, squirming with need. “That’s…fucking amazing.”

  Cole hummed around my dick, which sent me into the goddamned stratosphere. I struggled to stay still—I didn’t want to thrust into his mouth—and I whimpered with pure arousal and the unbearable need to come.

  “I’m gonna come,” I slurred. “Oh, yeah. Keep… Keep doing that. I’m… Can I come like this? Can—”

  The groan reverberating against my skin was definitely a yes, and thank God, because it threw me right off that delicious precipice, and I shouted something even I didn’t understand as I came in his unbelievable mouth.

  He kept me going, kept licking and pumping until it was almost too much, and then he came to a gentle stop.

  With a shuddering sigh, I collapsed back onto the mattress. I’d had some powerful orgasms in my life, but not like this. Not like the two I’d had tonight courtesy of Cole’s mouth and hands. This was beyond anything I’d fantasized about.

  But it wasn’t a fantasy.

  It was real.

  Closing my eyes, I wiped a hand over my sweaty face. I was out of breath. My heart was racing. My whole body was trembling.

  And all I could think was…

  I can’t wait to see you again.

  Chapter 4

  Cole

  As enthusiastic as Parker was about booking me again—and as much I was admittedly looking forward to it—that would have to wait. I’d been vaguely aware of regular season hockey’s brutal travel schedule, since Luca had been so thrilled about that part of dating a hockey player, but it was no joke. The day after I was with Parker, he had a game. The next morning, he was on a plane out of town and wouldn’t be back for a few days.

  To show him I was serious about that second booking, and to keep him interested, I’d been exchanging messages with him through the Emerald City app whenever he had downtime. What did he want to do next time I saw him? Was there anything he was nervous about? Was there anything I could do to make him less nervous?

  It felt a little dirty, keeping the conversation going to in order to build rapport and encourage him to book me again. It was part of the business, though, and dirty or not, it was effective. Not everyone at Emerald City did it, but Anita told us repeatedly that it worked. Though she didn’t have access to instant messages, she could see the algorithms, and Gentlemen with higher IM activity also tended to have more repeat bookings. Couldn’t argue with the data.

  But with Parker, it wasn’t solely a marketing pitch. He was still uneasy about the whole thing—sex, hiring me, all of it—and talking like this could help. There was no pressure (I built rapport with clients, but I did not push them). There was no performance anxiety since everything was reduced to words on a screen. Wouldn’t we all have been happier if our clumsy early explorations had included the option to make judicious use of a backspace button?

  He asked me questions about things like prepping for anal, since he’d read that there was more to it than just rimming or fingering (yes, and here are some websites that can explain it better than I can). He wanted to know if it really was a thing for guys to come all over each other’s faces like in porn (some do, but you don’t have to, and you’ll probably think twice about it after the first time you get cum in your eye). He asked if swallowing was safe with someone you didn’t know, if guys expected it, and if he should or was expected to with me (if you don’t feel safe, don’t do it and don’t apologize for it, and here’s some info on the relative safety of it, and also it’s totally up to you but for the record I’m tested for everything and I’m on PrEP—here’s some info about that too).

  Admittedly, the conversations were keeping my interest piqued too. I liked that he was asking questions, and I was weirdly invested in this. In making sure he was comfortable. In answering all his questions and helping him discover all those things that had become second nature to me. In guiding him the way multiple guys—clients and not—had said they wished someone had guided them. I wanted this to be a good experience for him, and I hoped I conveyed that in my messages and didn’t come across like he’d bought one thing and was now subscribed to infinite advertisements.

  The messages had gone quiet an hour or so ago, which made sense. He had a game tonight. And anyway, I was off to spend the evening with Luca.

  “I still can’t believe you scored this swanky place,” I said as I stepped into the condo he’d recently moved into.

  He chuckled as he closed the door. “Hell of an upgrade, isn’t it?”

  I grunted, toeing off my shoes. “Eh. At least I got your room when you moved out. It’s not this much of an upgrade, but it’s better than the one downstairs.”

  “Even with Katie and Jeff fucking every five minutes?” He adopted a high-pitched voice and mimicked our roommate: “Yeah, baby, lick my pussy!”

  I laughed aloud. “Hey, they only go for like twenty minutes at best. That fucking loud-ass furnace rattled my fillings all damn night.”

  “Ugh, yeah, I could see that getting annoying.”

  “Hence moving into your room as soon as your ass was out the door.”

  “What?” He feigned offense as we started toward the kitchen. “You didn’t even grieve or—”

  “Grieve, hell. The second you were gone, we were all grabbing up any space you left behind. I’d have taken your shelf on the fridge, too, but Katie beat me to it.”

  He tsked. “Buzzards.”

  I didn’t argue. When you had that many people living together, space became a commodity, and I made no apologies for turning full-on-scavenger as soon as someone left.

  In the kitchen, Luca poured us a couple of drinks, and then we settled into the living room to catch up. I missed having him there in the crowded split-level where I still lived with all our roommates and their various partners. I was glad he had Ethan and that he wasn’t losing sleep over money anymore, but it sucked not having him around.

  “So Bryce is moving in at the end of the month,” I said.

  “Oh yeah?” Luca glanced at me before taking a drink. “Did his landlady finally let him out of his lease?”

  Nodding, I rolled my eyes. “He ended up getting his dad involved.”

  Luca’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. Shit. No wonder she backed down.”

  “I know, right? I should ask him to come along next time the dealership tries to weasel out of honoring my warranty.”

  “Dude, you should.” Luca chuckled. “He could make a killing if he let people hire him.”

  I laughed. “Intimidation for hire. Hell, I’d pay for it.”

  “Same.”

  Bryce’s dad was a teddy bear, but Lord help anyone who tried to screw over one of his babies. Didn’t matter that all five of them were adults now. He had no qualms about raising holy hell on their behalf. He didn’t even yell or anything like that. He just had this real quiet way of telling someone how it was, and it was both persuasive and intimidating as fuck.

  “It’s great,” Bryce had told me while we were dating. “But you never had it turned on you when you were a dumb teenager doing dumb teenager things.” The grimace had said it all.

  “Anyway, yeah.” I leaned toward the coffee table and put my drink on a coaster. “Bryce is getting out of that place and moving into the madhouse with the rest of us.”

  Luca nodded with what seemed like approval. “Good. He gets along with everyone there, and God knows it’ll shorten his commute.”

  “Right? No wonder he doesn’t care about sleeping next to that stupid furnace.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how he hasn’t lost his mind, driving in from Everett like that.”

  “Did he have much choice?” Luca asked dryly. “It’s bullshit that the university is charging this much and is that far from any affordable place to live.”

  “Of course it is,” I grumbled. “How else will they convince people to live in the dorms?”

  “Ugh. Seriously.” Luca rolled his eyes.

  “But hey.” I gestured around the condo. “You’re a million times closer to school now, plus you’ve got a badass place to live and a hot guy. It worked out!”

  He smiled that sweet smile he always got when someone reminded him of Ethan. I didn’t think that would ever get old—Luca had been so stressed about finances and the future, but that was all behind him now. Relaxed and in love looked good on him.

  Shame I can’t seem to get a guy to stick around long enough to find out if it looks good on me.

  Ugh, that was a depressing train of thought. Outside of my job, I was basically a serial monogamist, and I couldn’t keep a boyfriend to save my life. Hadn’t been able to since even before I started working for Emerald City. God only knew what I was doing wrong, but I just could not convince a man to stick around.

  But I was here to have a good time, so I shook those thoughts away and cleared my throat. “So what do you want to do tonight? You still feel like hitting a club?” Luca wasn’t on the prowl, but that didn’t stop him from going out dancing, and Ethan loved it when I sent him photos and videos of his man cutting loose on the dancefloor.

  Luca wrinkled his nose, though. “Eh. My head’s pretty blah after today’s exam. I don’t really feel like peopling.” He tilted his drink toward me. “Present company excluded.”

  “I feel you.” I thought for a moment, and the flat screen TV caught my eye. We could… No. No, that was stupid. Wasn’t it? Why was I even thinking it? On the other hand… Why not? I muffled a cough. “Is, um, is Ethan playing tonight?”

  Luca nodded. “Yeah, they’re in…” He furrowed his brow. “Los Angeles, I think? I lose track.” He paused, then sarcastically said, “We could watch the game.”

  On any other night, I probably would have counteroffered with a suggestion of a movie or binging whatever he had on Netflix. But the prospect of watching a Breakers game felt a little different today.

  “Why not?”

  Luca’s eyebrows flicked up. “You… Really?”

  “Sure.” I glanced at the TV. “You might have to tell me what’s going on, but…”

  He cocked his head. “You’re into hockey now?”

  “I haven’t watched much of it, but I know you’re into it.” I grinned. “And I figured you might want to watch your man.”

  Luca eyed me. He clearly didn’t buy it, but he shrugged and picked up the remote. “Not going to say no to watching Ethan throw down on the ice.”

  “Ethan? Pfft. There’s no way he’s like that. No. Way.”

  He guffawed. “You want to put a hundred on it?” Gesturing at the giant flat screen with the remote, he added, “Because you will lose.”

  “Okay, now this I gotta see.” I settled back against the couch. “I know what hockey players are supposed to be like, but Ethan? That sweetie-pie? Nah. I don’t see it.”

  “You taking that bet, then?”

  “No, because I know you don’t make bets unless you’re sure you’ll win.” I wagged a finger at the screen. “I’m just saying I’ll be shocked as hell to see him get feisty.”

  “Well, prepare to be shocked.” Luca found the game on TV. It hadn’t started yet. He groaned. “Ugh. Pre-game shows are so stupid. I’m going to go get us some food while they…” He flapped a hand at the commentators on the screen and made a face.

  I laughed. “You need help?”

  “Nah, you’re good. I’ll be back.” He got up off the couch and went into the kitchen, which was basically the other end of the same room. These open plan places were weird, especially after I’d spent so long in that crowded split-level.

  While Luca rustled around behind me, I watched the pre-game show. I didn’t know much of what they were talking about, though when they showed snippets from other games, I could at least follow the basics. Getting the puck—good. Losing the puck—bad. Putting the puck in the other team’s goal—good. The other team putting the puck into your goal—bad. There seemed to be a lot of other complicated shit involved, but I could keep track of that much.

  The commentators switched to going through the lineups of tonight’s teams. As they did, they showed a photo of each player onscreen with some of their stats. I couldn’t parse much of it. How many goals they had, how long they’d been playing—those were straightforward enough. I thought I had an idea of what an assist was. The rest of it could’ve been how many dogs they had or how many times they’d scuba-dived to the Titanic for all I knew. Who knew hockey was so complicated and involved so much math?

  Ethan’s picture appeared on the screen beside his stats. I almost had to laugh at how different he looked. He was usually so chill and full of smiles around Luca, but in his jersey, with his hair curling with sweat and an I’m ready to fuck shit up look on his face, he was like another person altogether.

  “Hey,” I called out. “They’re talking about your man.”

  The rustling in the kitchen stopped briefly. “Oh, yeah. The pre-game spiel.” Luca was moving around again. “Let me guess—he’s had more turnovers recently than he should have, Coach Henderson is probably not happy about it, and hopefully the other night’s two assists mean he’s turning it around?”

  I shifted my attention back to the screen.

  “Now, Wright’s been on a turnover streak lately that has got to have Coach Henderson beyond frustrated,” one of the commentators was saying.

  “But he’s showing signs of getting back into the swing of things,” the other pointed out. “His two assists with Deacon and Grayson helped secure Seattle’s win over Dallas the other night.”

  “Well, let’s hope he continues that trajectory.”

  I laughed and said over my shoulder, “You called it!”

  Luca gave a sharp laugh. “They’re soo predictable.”

  I was about to respond, but then Parker’s photo hit the screen, and my teeth snapped shut. He looked nothing like he had the other night. Like Ethan, he wore a tough guy expression, and he was rugged, sweaty, and unshaven. After the night I’d spent with him, when he’d been all nervous and innocent and sweet, I’d have expected any attempt to look intimidating to be about as effective as a kitten hissing at a Doberman. More likely to make me say, “aww, you’re so cute” than take a step back.

  But he… Fuck, he really pulled it off.

  And oh my Lord, it was hot.

  Watch him play hockey? Oh hell yes. It didn’t even matter that I didn’t really understand the sport. Once he hit the ice, I’d probably even forget the part about “puck in net” because wow, Parker’s fuck around and find out face made me want him to put me on my knees and do whatever he damn well pleased.