Heated Rivalry (Game Changers #2)(14)

He pulled off just in time. Rozanov put his own hand on his dick to replace Shane’s mouth and stroked himself roughly until his release fell all over his own stomach.

Shane stared, dumbfounded. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

Rozanov flopped back on the bed, breathing hard. “Not bad, Hollander,” he said.

Shane was still staring at the mess on Rozanov’s stomach. His own cock was like iron. He thought about stroking himself until he came on Rozanov. He thought about Rozanov putting his mouth on him...

“Okay. Well. Goodnight,” Rozanov said, and moved to get up.

Shane’s mouth dropped open, and he was about to be furious when he noticed the playful, crooked grin.

“Fuck you,” Shane said.

“Did you need something?” Rozanov asked innocently.

Shane glared at him. Rozanov chuckled and grabbed some tissues from the nightstand so he could wipe his stomach off a bit.

“Lie down,” Rozanov instructed.

Shane did. Rozanov crawled on top of him and kissed him.

“You think I’m an asshole,” Rozanov said.

“You are an asshole.”

“I would not leave you like that.”

“No?”

He kissed him again. “No.”

As they kissed, Rozanov reached a hand down and gripped Shane’s cock. Shane gasped into his mouth.

“Let me show you,” Rozanov murmured, “how to do this.”

He kissed his way down Shane’s body, which felt so good that Shane forgot to be insulted. When he reached Shane’s cock, Rozanov greeted it with a long, slow lick with the entire surface of his tongue, like it was a fucking ice-cream cone or something.

“Jesus.” Shane shuddered.

Rozanov licked and sucked the head, tonguing the slit and pushing Shane dangerously close to the edge already. He gripped the hotel bed comforter and tried to hold on. Rozanov was shockingly good at this. How many fucking times had he met up with his coach’s son? Shane felt like he should be paying attention—maybe taking notes—but his brain had left the room.

Shane reached down to run his fingers through the golden-brown curls of Rozanov’s hair. He dragged his fingers down over the stubble on his cheek, the sharp line of his jaw. Shane had enjoyed watching some truly hot girls sucking him off in the past, but this was beyond anything he had ever experienced before. Watching this big, beautiful man, who knew exactly what to do with his tongue and lips and—god, his teeth—work him like there would be a medal awarded for performance...

“Ah, god. Rozanov! I’m gonna...”

He expected Rozanov to get the hell out of the way, but instead he sucked him harder and Shane emptied himself into his mouth.

A stream of nonsense fell out of Shane’s mouth. “Holy shit. I’m sorry. Oh my god. I’m so sorry. Fuck. Wow. God.”

Rozanov pulled off, not at all hurried, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He laughed at Shane’s babbling. “Sorry? Why sorry?”

Shane choked out a hysterical laugh. “I don’t know! I just... I wasn’t expecting you to...”

Rozanov shrugged as if Shane was thanking him for bringing in the mail. “I don’t mind it.”

Shane felt stupid that he hadn’t even tried to...properly finish the job on Rozanov. This guy was determined to one-up him at every turn.

Rozanov sat on the edge of the bed with his back to Shane. He rolled his neck and idly rubbed his jaw. Shane sat up and swung his legs over the opposite side of the bed. He gripped the mattress with both hands and looked at the floor. He felt panic surge up in him again.

He heard Rozanov blow out a breath, which made Shane laugh for some reason. The absurdity of the situation was hitting him.

“You’re laughing.”

“Yeah, well...this whole thing is a little nuts.”

“I want a cigarette,” Rozanov said.

“You’re not allowed to smoke in the hotel.”

“I know. Stupid country.” Rozanov sighed. “Doesn’t matter. Bears told me to quit. I am trying not to smoke.”

“Oh. That’s good. Smoking is bad for you.”

“Is it?” Shane could hear Rozanov’s eyes rolling.

“So, um...” Shane said, still keeping his back to Rozanov. “This won’t leave this room, okay?”

“You think I will tell people?”

Shane sincerely doubted it. “No.”

“No.”

He felt the bed shift as Rozanov stood up.

Shane had the stupid urge to ask him to stay. He imagined falling asleep in his arms and what the fuck? This thing they’d just done was, above all things, a huge mistake. As far as hookups went, Shane really could not have chosen a less appropriate person. And even forgetting that, there was no reason to pretend this was anything more than a quick, no-strings fuck. And why would Shane even want to pretend that?

He didn’t. He wanted Rozanov out of his hotel room. He wanted to forget that this ever happened. He did not want to reach for him. To pull him back on the bed. To do everything they just did two or three more times.

When Rozanov was fully dressed, he gave Shane one of his playful, crooked smiles. Shane had managed to put his underwear back on, but other than that, was still naked.

“My flight is early tomorrow,” Rozanov said. There was maybe a note of apology in it. Or maybe Shane was imagining things.