Don't Read in the Closet volume one (30 page)

Owen hit the forgiving turf with a startled grunt as Rory landed
on top of him, wrists still tightly held in Rory’s grip. Rory pushed Owen’s
legs apart with his knees and settled into the welcoming space between them.
Owen looked up at Rory, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded with lust, his breath coming
in shallow puffs, his heart pounding powerfully against Rory’s chest. “I’ve
wanted this for so long,” Owen whispered, his deep reedy voice dripping with
desire. He clenched his hands into fists against Rory’s unyielding hold, but
Rory wouldn’t budge. “Kiss me, Ror.”

And Rory did. This time it wasn’t a gentle exploration. It was a
frantic, mindless, desperate claiming. The release of too many years of
longing, too many years of denying what he craved most. Rory devoured Owen’s
mouth, sucked and swirled the length of his tongue. Lips swollen and
hypersensitive pulsed with the rapid bass drum beat of his heart. Rory felt
like he was trying to climb inside, and still he couldn’t get close enough,
deep enough.

He rocked his hips into Owen, who bucked to meet each thrust in
equal measure. Owen tried again to free his hands from Rory’s hold, but Rory
kept him pinned tight to the ground while he had his way with that beautiful
mouth. Too long he’d wanted. Too long he’d needed. And now that he finally had
a taste of Owen, there was no way in hell he was letting go.

With a rumbling growl, Owen arched his body up off the ground and
forcibly flipped them over, but instead of straddling Rory, he yanked him by
the hands and hauled him to his feet. Rory swayed for a brief second and then
Owen was dragging him toward the locker rooms.

“What the hell, O?” Rory squawked as he held his pants up with
his free hand and stumbled behind.

“Can’t wait, Ror.” Owen sounded nearly panicked. “Can’t wait.”

Rory laughed. He couldn’t wait either.

The slap of Rory’s bare feet and softer pound of Owen’s
rubber-soled ones, echoed off the tunnel walls as they ran from the field and
into the empty locker room. Owen released Rory’s hand as soon as they were
inside the door and reached for a garbage can along the wall.

“Doorbell,” he said as he rolled the large can in front of the
door. “Just in case.”

Rory opened his mouth to tell Owen that was a good idea, but
before he could get a word out, Owen was on him. His mouth fused to Rory’s in
an aggressive, demanding kiss. More hands than seemed possible dug into bare
skin, tunneled through hair and tugged; shoved at his jeans until they shackled
his ankles and threatened to topple him as Owen back-walked him. His calves hit
one of three leather couches at the far end of the room, where the team
gathered to study practice and game videos with their coaches.

The second Rory’s butt sank into the plush leather Owen pushed
him back and began tugging his jeans over his feet. Owen stood there, staring
down at Rory, his desire palpable; jeans still in clutched his hand all but
forgotten. “Heaven above…”

Rory held a hand out. “Come here.”

Owen took the proffered hand and knelt between Rory’s bare legs.
Rory pulled him in and once again claimed those swollen, caramel apple lips.
Owen stretched his body over Rory’s and pressed their crotches together. Rory
slowly slid his hands down Owen’s strong back, tracing every angle and curve of
muscle, over each bump of his spine, under the band of his sweatpants and down
into the two dimpled valleys that hovered above a perfectly defined ass. He
pushed the pants down with open palms, covering as much skin as possible as he
went. And God, if that wasn’t the softest skin he’d ever felt.

Owen leaned back, breaking their kiss. His lips, full and flush,
glistened with moisture. He sat back on his heels and looked up at Rory with
the expression of a child on Christmas morning. “Can I?” he whispered in a
graveled voice.

“Please. Yes.” His dick pulsed in agreement.

With hands firmly holding Rory’s hips, Owen leaned forward and
kissed him one more time on the lips before his tongue led his mouth on a
journey from Rory’s jaw, down the side of his neck where Owen nipped at the
thick, corded muscle. He followed the line of Rory’s clavicle into the hollow
of his throat, then down the center of his chest and over to a hardened nipple.
He teased it with his tongue and teeth and Rory’s head fell back against the
couch. He closed his eyes to focus on the sensation of touch that swept through
his body under Owen’s devoted worship.

Owen continued his southbound journey until his chin bumped the
head of Rory’s cock, and a spike of electricity charged through Rory’s every
vein. “God, Owen. Suck me. Please.”

Rory caught his breath when Owen’s tongue, hot and wet, twirled
around the head of his straining shaft, and then down the underside to the
base, before returning to the tip. And then he was engulfed in the most
incredible heat he ever felt. All he’d known to this point was his own hand.
Rory had never wanted another living soul as badly as he wanted Owen Harris. He
wanted Owen to be his first everything.

Owen released his hips and wrapped one hand around the base of
Rory’s cock, while he moved the other down to cup and gently squeeze his balls.

“Damn, Owen. That feels amazing.” Rory lifted his head to watch
as he carefully rocked his hips upward, pushing himself deeper into Owen’s
glorious mouth. Owen looked up and met his gaze with an intensity Rory felt
like a punch to the gut. His heart smashed against his ribcage with brutal
force, perspiration broke out on his forehead and the telltale tingling began
at the base of his spine.

Too visceral. Couldn’t be a dream.

“O…” Rory warned. He grabbed Owen’s head and tried to push him
off his dick. But Owen wasn’t having any of that. He gave one shake and clamped
down with his lips,
then
sucked back up so hard his
cheeks hollowed. The crawling tingles exploded into blinding bolts of lightning
that shocked Rory with their force. He shouted Owen’s name as his body ripped
apart and scattered throughout the stratosphere. Owen didn’t let go, didn’t
stop through that moment of pure, mindless bliss. He stayed with him, strong
and protective, and carried him gently back to earth -- spent, sated and
speechless.
 

Owen slid his arms behind Rory’s back and dropped his head on
Rory’s stomach. Rory had yet to detangle his fingers from Owen’s hair, couldn’t
command any part of his body to move. He could only focus on the slowing
aftershocks of the best orgasm of his life.
 

“I can’t believe how fucking good you taste,” Owen said with a
note of awe in his voice.

“Share,” Rory said.

Owen crawled up Rory’s torso and kissed him open mouthed. His
abdomen clenched when he tasted himself on Owen’s tongue. Need fluttered
through his insides and Rory wanted more. Wanted everything. He pulled back,
looked into those beautiful brown eyes and said, “I want you to fuck me.”

Owen’s eyes widened, desire and trepidation danced a slow waltz
in their depths, his lips parted and his mouth worked silently. “I
-- ”
He lowered and raised his gaze. “I don’t know…what to
do.”

Rory’s heart clenched at the admission. All these years he’d been
pining for Owen while Owen had been waiting for him. Rory took Owen’s lips in a
demanding, impassioned kiss. He didn’t really know what he was doing either,
but he would do everything he could to make sure their first experience
together was perfect. He pulled back slowly, nipping gently at Owen’s lips, and
upped Owen’s face in both hands. Smooth skin and rough stubble under his palm a
pleasant contrast. “Don’t worry.” He smiled. “I know.”

Owen’s brows furrowed. “How do you know?”

“Gay porn, dude.”

Owen laughed and leaned his cheek into Rory’s hand. “Figures.”
The nervous tension that had bunched in his best friend’s shoulders eased.

“Don’t suppose you have a condom, eh?”

Owen shook his head and Rory didn’t miss the fleeting shadow of
disappointment that crossed over his features. He ruffled Owen’s spiky locks.
“Let me up.”

He laughed when Owen smacked his ass as he stood to gather his
jeans.

“What are you doing?” Owen asked, pulling himself up onto the
couch and stretching out on his side to watch, head rested on his hand.

“Lucky for us we just happen to be attending the number one party
college in the States. And what does every responsible school’s locker room for
horny athletes have?”

Owen cracked a sly smile. “A condom dispenser.”

“Bingo, baby!” Rory winced inwardly at the total porn star
dialogue, but paused when he saw the way Owen looked at him. The same way he’d
looked at Rory in every single dream that had featured the only man he ever
longed for -- with love and longing. A flush of heat spread over his skin.

Rory cleared his throat and pulled his gaze from Owen. Mission
renewed, dug into his jeans pockets, pulling out coins and tossing them onto
the coffee table until he counted out enough to buy a condom and a pillow
packet of lube. He gathered the money and raced to the showers, where there
were dispensers for soap and shampoo, Band-Aids and ointments, lotions to cool
or heat strained muscles -- and most important of all, condoms. Rory’s hands
shook as he shoved the coins into the slot, pressed the correct buttons and ran
back to where Owen waited.

He came up short when he saw Owen stretched out on the black
leather couch. Golden skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, defined lean
muscle wrapped artistically around dense bone, sun-bleached hair dusted long
legs that were made for running, a thick cock rose straight and proud from a
course thatch of hair. Lips swollen from kissing, and eyes glazed with lust and
desire. Rory’s knees just about buckled and his chest swelled.

Owen Harris was his. Finally.

“Good God, you’re beautiful,” he said. A pink flush colored
Owen’s cheeks.

Rory dropped the two small packets on the table and knelt down at
the end of the couch, before Owen’s feet. He clasped his hands over Owen’s
ankles and leaned over to kiss the top of one foot and then the other. Mouth
and tongue followed hands and fingers as Rory worked his way up Owen’s legs. He
traced every dip and groove and expanse of skin and muscle and bone that made
up the gorgeous man spread out before him. He continued his journey until he
reached the sharp line where hip and thigh met groin. Rory slid one hand under
Owen’s ass, while the other lightly covered his rock solid erection. Owen
moaned and pushed into Rory’s palm, wanting more.

Rory licked at Owen’s balls with the flat of his tongue, and
breathed in the musky male scent that sent a spike of desire shooting up his
center. He sucked one ball into his mouth and rolled it while Owen writhed
beneath him, mumbling incoherently. He released it to give the other ball equal
treatment, and then licked up the length of Owen’s shaft to the leaking tip.
The bittersweet taste that was all Owen trickled over his tongue and down his
throat, and Rory knew he would be addicted to that flavor for the rest of his
life.

Rory opened up and swallowed down that thick, velvet-covered cock
until it bumped up at the back of his throat and he had to make a hasty
retreat. Obviously deep-throating was a practiced skill, and damn if he wasn’t
looking forward to practicing as often and long as possible to perfect it. He
smiled and chuckled with his mouth full of Owen, which caused Owen to clench
his hands into Rory’s hair and thrust up into his mouth.

“Yeah, Rory,” he panted. “Yeah.”

Rory hummed a response that drew a full-bodied shudder from Owen
and gave Rory a sense of power, knowing it was he giving this pleasure to his
best friend. He was the one able to reduce Owen to a babbling bowl of jell-O.
Reveling in this new-found discovery, Rory continued to work Owen with his
mouth and tongue and slight graze of teeth until Owen began to tense.

“Ror…” he groaned.

Rory released him with a pop and crawled on top of Owen to claim
his lips in a bruising kiss. Owen immediately opened to him and their tongues
fought for control. The need for each other once again escalated to panic
level. Rory couldn’t wait any longer. Every part of his body cried out for
Owen.

Rory broke the battling kiss and reached over for their supplies.
He rolled back to Owen and gruffly commanded, “Get me ready.”

Owen took the packets with a shaky hand as they readjusted themselves.
Rory stretched out on his back. Owen knelt between Rory’s legs and pulled them
to rest over his thighs. He looked down at Rory with questioning eyes.

“Cover your fingers with the lube,
then
slowly work around and into my hole. Start with just one and add more as the
muscle relaxes. Then lube yourself up and take me.”

“You learned this from watching porn?” Owen’s expression shifted
from uncertainty to amusement. “That’s
so
not romantic.”

Heat spread over his cheeks. “Shut up.”

Owen gently traced the line of Rory’s jaw with his fingertips,
and then his teasing smile faded. He worried his lower lip and with
single-minded focus, looked down and tentatively pressed one finger against
Rory’s sensitive opening. The unfamiliar sensation sent a rush of goose bumps
over his skin and drew a moan of pleasure from his throat. Owen worked him with
a reverence and gentleness that flooded every corner of Rory’s body with an
overwhelming sense of belonging. He was no longer nervous, no longer afraid.
This was Owen. The man he loved his whole life.

“Now, Owen,” he said, his voice ragged with need. “Now.”

Owen fumbled with the condom wrapper for a moment, then with a
frustrated huff gave up and tossed onto Rory’s chest. “Fingers are too
slippery.”

Rory opened the packet, slowly rolled the latex down Owen’s
straining length, and then held him in his hands. Burning into his memory what
would soon feel inside his body. Owen closed a hand over Rory’s and their gazes
locked for a moment of silent communication. Rory nodded his head once and let
his hands fall away to rest on Owen’s thighs. Owen shifted to line himself up.
“Here we go, baby.”