Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(82)

“Well, this isn’t exactly fair,” I say, adjusting to the center of the bed.

A wicked grin takes over his face as he slowly peels off the hoodie he’s wearing, revealing a tight six pack and miles of artwork inked into his skin. “Since when does fair have anything to do with it?”

His pants go next, his underwear quick to follow, and then he’s bare. The sight of him—hard and waiting for me—is something that’s ingrained into the very recesses of my brain by now. But it doesn’t stop him from stealing my breath regardless.

One hand wraps around his shaft, and he takes long, slow pulls while he stares down at me, sprawled and at his mercy.

“Okay, this really isn’t fair,” I complain, my eyes latching onto where his palm is stroking that gorgeous cock. One I’d like to get my hands or mouth on before this is all over.

A flash of his tongue appears as he wets his bottom lip, and he continues to jack himself in leisurely strokes.

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, sex and desire dripping from his voice as he layers his body over mine. “You know all’s fair in hate and hockey.”

There’s no denying the truth in his statement, but there’s one thing I disagree with.

I don’t hate him. And with the way things have shifted between us—so quickly and easily—I’m wondering if I actually did in the first place.

Nothing about him screams enemy.

Not anymore.

His mouth lands on mine again as he grinds his pelvis down. Our cocks rub and bump against each other, all smooth skin and blissful friction as he kisses and licks his way across my jaw and down my throat to my chest.

“Aren’t you the least bit concerned about them hearing us?” His lips trail down some more, from my pecs to my abs, on a clear path to my cock. “I mean, assuming that’s the reason we never come here.”

“I figured Hayes could use a break from all your incoherent babbling while I fuck you,” I say with a laugh, my abs bunching under his tongue as he traces the indents.

“And all of them hearing it is so much better?”

“They can press their ears to the door and listen in for all I care; it’s nothing I don’t hear through their walls too.”

“The things I didn’t need to know,” he bemuses, and when I look down, I find his nose wrinkled in disgust. “I guess it’s another reason I should be grateful Hayes doesn’t usually have guests.”

“You really wanna keep talking about our roommates’ sex lives right now?” I counter, my hand anchoring in the back of his hair. “Because I’d much rather you be an active, vocal participant in ours.”

A devilish grin breaks out over his face and he goes back to the task at hand: driving me absolutely mad with that sinful mouth of his.

He continues his path down my body, biting and licking and kissing a path to my cock, only to take a detour around it until he’s trailing them down my inner thigh. I’m arching off the bed, desperate and needy for his mouth, his hand, fucking something. Anything would be better than this torture he’s putting me through right now.

But he doesn’t budge.

Which is why he hasn’t even had the chance to wrap his lips around my cock before I’ve had enough of his games.

“We’re not doing this anymore,” I growl, gripping his shoulders and shoving him off me. He’s stomach down on the bed when I flip around and slide between his legs behind him. My hand presses down on his spine, keeping his ass up as I tease my finger down his crease.

“Someone’s getting impatient,” he teases, but there’s nothing funny about the torture he’s going to receive as payback.

He’s one to talk with the way he’s arching into my touch when the pad of my finger swirls around his rim.

“You really don’t wanna play games with me right now, babe,” I murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to one cheek, then the other. “That’s one thing I can promise you.”

He lets out a sharp laugh that quickly turns into a gasp when I surprise him by burying my face between his cheeks, lapping at the sensitive bud. My tongue spears through the rim without preamble, and his body bucks off the bed, a guttural groan ripping from his throat. It spurs me on more, knowing he’s enjoying what I’m doing.

My left hand grips his hip, holding him in place as I continue my torment. Slipping the right between his thighs, I take his cock and give him long, slow jacks as I nip and bite at his ass.

Harsh, ragged breaths leave him as my tongue prods his rim before backing off again, never giving him quite enough for his liking while I devour him.

“FuckingholyJesusGod,” he moans, ass pressing back against my face.

“I told you that you didn’t want to play games with me right now,” I growl, my teeth sinking into one cheek before my palm cracks against the smooth skin. He jolts again, and I feel the telltale pulse of his cock in my fist.

He’s loving this.

My mouth covers him again, licking at his puckered rim until saliva slides down his crack and drips onto the bed. His hips rut forward, seeking the friction my hand provides before pressing back against my tongue some more.

“Oh, God. Just like that, baby,” he pants, taking me from both ends.

I love when he isn’t shy about taking what he needs from me to feel good. I love a lot of things about Quinn, actually, but it’s gotta be one of my favorites.