Heated Rivalry (Game Changers #2)(88)

The heat of Shane’s release mingled with the cold, damp fabric of his shorts. Ilya thrust a few more times against Shane’s leg and cried out as his own cock pulsed and spurted into his shorts.

He collapsed on top of Shane, panting.

Shane laughed breathlessly. “Wow. What the fuck?”

Ilya smiled and nuzzled Shane’s neck. “I don’t know. Couldn’t help it.”

“I can’t even remember why we came down to the dock in the first place.”

“Does it matter?”

Shane turned his head and kissed him quickly. “No.”

After a minute, Ilya pulled himself up into a push-up position over Shane, then quickly kissed him before sliding back into the water. Shane followed him, figuring it would at least clean his shorts a little bit.

They swam for a while longer before they both decided they were hungry and headed up to the house. Shane was just about to step through the sliding glass doors when Ilya grabbed his wrist and tugged him back toward him.

“Is it okay if I tell you I love you again?” Ilya asked. His crooked smile was adorably shy.

Shane smiled back. Hell, he probably beamed back. “It’s okay.”

Instead of saying the words, Ilya kissed him. It was slow and deliberate, his tongue pressing against Shane’s own, his fingers resting delicately on Shane’s waist. Shane felt like his legs might give out on him. He made a contented little noise and stepped in even closer, so he could feel Ilya pressed against every inch of him. His hands slid over the lake-cooled skin on Ilya’s back, eventually finding their way into his damp hair.

Ilya huffed and tilted Shane’s head back, kissing him deeper and more possessively. Shane felt dizzy with happiness. To be held like this and kissed like this by the man he loved—the man who loved him back—here at the place he loved more than anywhere else in the world...

They both heard a noise.

They both whipped their heads around.

They both saw Shane’s dad standing inside the house, staring, frozen, at where they were wrapped up in each other on the deck.

For a moment, no one moved. No one made a sound. Everyone. Just. Stared.

Then, very quickly, Shane’s dad turned on his heel and walked toward the front door of the house. Shane let go of Ilya and said, “Shit!”

“Your father, yes?”

“Yes! Fuck. Shit. Okay...”

Shane held his head with both hands. “Fuck!”

“Should you—?”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just...you wait here.”

Shane walked quickly through the house to the front door. He opened it just in time to see his father’s car disappear down the wooded road.

He stood there for a few minutes, wearing nothing but the wet shorts that he had very recently ejaculated into and a look of pure panic.

“Shane?”

He heard Ilya calling him, but he couldn’t find his voice to respond.

“Hollander?” He felt a hand on his elbow. “He was already gone?”

“Yeah.”

They both stood there in silence. Shane assumed that Ilya, too, was letting the enormity of this moment wash over him.

“This is bad,” Shane finally said.

“You should go. Talk to him.”

“Yeah. Shit. Yeah, I should. Probably best to do it now.”

He heard Ilya snort behind him.

“It’s not funny!” Shane snapped at him.

“A little funny.”

Shane turned around, ready to glare at him, but when he saw Ilya’s face he started laughing too.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “So much for easing them into it.”

Ilya laughed harder. “Maybe he did not notice?”

They both cracked up. It was pure nerves, but Shane laughed until his eyes watered. His plan had been to tell his parents—soon—that he was gay. He had planned to give them time to digest that, and then he would tell them—eventually—that he was in a relationship. That he was in love.

And then, once all of that had settled with them, he would drop the real bombshell.

Now everything was happening in the exact opposite order.

“What the fuck am I going to tell them? So, you’re probably wondering why I was making out with Ilya Rozanov...”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Shane was surprised by this offer. Did he want that? Would that make things even more awkward? He certainly felt like he could use the support.

“I don’t know. Would you really do that?”

Ilya took his hand and squeezed. “Yes. If it helps.”

Shane nodded. “It might. It will be awkward as hell, but...I’d like you to be there, I think.”

“Okay.”

“We should probably get dressed first.”

“Yes.”

They got dressed quickly. Shane put on a T-shirt from a charity hockey camp he helped coach last summer, just to remind his parents that he was a good and normal person.

Ilya was wearing a Boston Bears T-shirt. Shane made a face. “That’s not going to help.”

“Oh, do they not know I play for Boston?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

The drive to Shane’s parents’ cottage took about ten minutes, but it seemed way, way longer this time.