Heated Rivalry (Game Changers #2)(66)

“I love beating everyone, but yes. You the most.”

“Why?”

Ilya shrugged. “Because you are the best.”

“I’m not. What about Scott Hunter? You like to beat him too. You’re always talking shit about that guy.”

Ilya waved a hand dismissively. “Hunter is a million years old and he’s terrible this year.”

“He’s like three years older than us, and he’s been on fire lately.”

“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about Scott Hunter.”

“I think you just have a fetish for good boys.”

Ilya laughed. “Is that what you are?”

“That’s what you say,” Shane said. “What everyone says.”

“Mm. But I know the truth about you. I was the one in that hotel room in Vegas with you, yes? No one else.”

“Yeah,” Shane breathed. “Just you.”

“Are you hard right now, Hollander?”

“What do you think?”

Ilya smirked. “Show me. Get on your knees. Face the camera. Show me.”

Shane obeyed immediately, which Ilya found incredibly hot. His head went out of the frame, but Ilya could see his abs, and the way his sweatpants pulled tight against his obvious bulge when Shane spread his knees wide on the mattress.

“You too,” Shane said, off-camera. “I want to see.”

Ilya copied Shane’s position, showing Shane exactly how aroused he was already. Fuck, he wished they were together somewhere.

“I wish you were here,” Shane said, before Ilya could.

“Yes. What would you do?”

“I’d take those pants off.”

Ilya smiled, though Shane couldn’t see it now. He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his track pants and slid them down off his hips. When he looked up, he saw Shane stroking himself through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“No underwear,” Shane observed. “You were planning for this?”

“Maybe.” He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it slowly. “My pants are off. What would you do now?”

Shane dipped down into the frame. His head was cocked and his hair flopped to the side. It was fucking adorable. He smiled at Ilya. “I think you know exactly what I’d do, after all these years.”

“Still want to hear it.”

Shane’s face left the screen. He gripped himself harder through his sweatpants and moaned. “I’d take you in my mouth. I’d suck you all the way down. Fuck, I...I wish I could. Right now.”

“Mm. Me too. Love your mouth, Hollander.”

He loved a lot of things about him.

“Would you want me to fuck your mouth? Or just keep still and let you do the work?”

“Keep still. I’d do it. Make you feel so good.”

And now Ilya moaned.

Shane yanked his pants and briefs down so they were stretched wide across his spread thighs. He stroked himself, sliding his thumb over his slit. Ilya knew it must be wet; Shane always leaked like a fountain.

They both stroked themselves without talking for a minute or two, and then Ilya saw Shane’s hand pause and drop to his side.

“Hey, um, Ilya?”

“Yes.”

He watched Shane’s hand lift out of the frame, probably so Shane could run it nervously through his hair. Ilya stilled his own hand.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No. But... I think I’d rather see your face.”

Ilya was grateful that Shane couldn’t see his face at that exact moment, because he was pretty sure it had the world’s sappiest expression.

“Sure, Hollander,” he said gently.

Shane laid himself back down on the bed with his head nestled on one of his pillows. He reached and pulled his tablet closer to his face and smiled shyly. Ilya melted a little more, and positioned himself the same way on his bed, pulling his own iPad close.

“I forgot about the glasses,” Ilya said. “Already.”

“You really like them, huh?”

“I do.”

Shane beamed at him. Ilya couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. It felt like they were really in bed together, facing each other. Talking at the end of a long day.

Shane’s eyes fluttered closed and Ilya knew he was touching himself again. And Shane had been right—this was better. Watching Shane’s face so closely as he pleasured himself was far more intimate than if Ilya had been watching his hand on his cock. Not being able to see what Shane was doing to make himself sigh and moan was intensely arousing.

“You are very beautiful,” Ilya said.

Shane smiled without opening his eyes. “Come on.”

“Is the truth. Your freckles.” Ilya grazed a fingertip over his own cheek. “I am nuts about them.”

“I have no idea why. I hate them.”

“Noooo...” Ilya moaned. “Hollander. They are stunning.”

“Stunning?”

“Yes. Am I not using that word right? Very beautiful. Um...take my breath?”

“Wow. All right.” The skin under Shane’s freckles turned very, very pink.

“The first time I met you. Those freckles...”

“The first time? You mean at the World Juniors? In Saskatchewan?”