The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(16)



“Mom’s going back to Ottawa now. We’ll have the house to ourselves.”

Ilya kissed him again, this time in that filthy way that made Shane’s toes curl.

Jesus, what were they doing? He broke the kiss and said, “Later. Not here.”

“Okay.” Ilya stepped back and began to smooth out Shane’s camp polo.

“This room remind you of anything?” Shane asked as he traced a finger along Ilya’s forearm.

Ilya’s lips curved up. “When you were very unprofessional, making that commercial with me.”

“Me? You were the one who propositioned me.”

“After you pointed your boner at me.”

Shane’s mouth fell open. He closed it. Then opened it again. “You were showing off.”

“Showing off?”

“Yeah. With all your naked muscles and ass...flexing.”

Ilya laughed. “What?”

“You knew what you were doing.”

Ilya kissed his forehead. “Maybe.”

Shane rested his head on Ilya’s shoulder, breathing him in and trying not to wonder how things would be different if Shane hadn’t been unable to control his dick that day in the showers. Would Ilya be holding him now, more than a decade later, with a tattoo of a loon on his arm?

“I’m glad you’re such a show-off,” Shane said.

Ilya patted his back. “I am glad you get hard so easily.”

“Shut up,” Shane said, but smiled into Ilya’s neck, relieved that they were both thinking the same thing.



Chapter Five


“What am I even supposed to wear to this thing?” Shane called from his walk-in closet.

“Do you have a leather, um. What is it? Like, for a horse...?”

“A harness. And shut up.”

Ilya laughed quietly to himself. He honestly couldn’t wait to see what kind of outfit Shane put together for Fabian’s show.

“Just wear a jock,” Ilya suggested. “And sunglasses.”

Shane poked his head out of the closet. “What are you wearing?”

Ilya was in the process of tugging his tight-fitting pale pink T-shirt into place. It was a recent purchase, and he looked amazing in it.

“Jesus,” Shane said.

“Nice, right?”

“They didn’t have it in your size?”

Ilya grinned. Shane was full of shit, and the heat in his gaze was telling on him. “Wear something light. It will be hot in the club.”

“Okay. Um.” Shane disappeared back into the closet. He emerged a minute later in stylish black pants that tapered at the ankle and a light gray linen shirt that he’d left open at the collar.

“Good,” Ilya said, which was a massive understatement. The shirt stretched tight across Shane’s wide shoulders, and the cuffs of the short sleeves accentuated the bulge of his biceps.

“Yeah?” Shane asked.

“Mm.” Ilya pulled Shane in for a kiss. “You look hot,” he murmured against his lips. “I will be thinking all night of what I want to do to you later.”

“Shit, let’s at least get to the club before you start making me want to leave.”

Ilya smiled and kissed him again. “You will love the show. I have heard Fabian is very good.”

“Oh yeah? Who told you that?”

“Harris. You know, the—”

“The social media guy who I haven’t met but you can’t stop talking about? The adorable gay one? You did say he was adorable, right?”

Ilya laughed softly and dipped his head to kiss the hinge of Shane’s jaw. “He invited me to Fabian’s show in Ottawa last year. But I had to rest an injury.”

“So you’re being invited on dates with adorable gay guys, are you?” Shane was probably trying to sound angry, but his voice was a bit strained and he was tilting his head to give Ilya better access to his neck. “To sexy music shows?”

“Yes. All the time.”

“Is Harris going to be there tonight? Am I going to be in your way?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to text him?”

Shane was remarkably skilled at glaring and smiling at the same time. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

Fabian’s show was every bit as sexy and mesmerizing as Harris had described it, and every aspect of it felt dialed up, because Ilya had Shane standing next to him.

Not as close as Ilya would have liked, but still. Next to him.

Ideally Ilya would be behind Shane with his arms wrapped around him, holding him close against his chest. Ilya would rest his chin on Shane’s head, and kiss his hair whenever he felt the urge.

Instead, Ilya was standing between Shane and Ryan Price, at the back of the crowded bar. Ryan had explained that he always watched from the back, because of his size. Ilya and Shane had decided to keep him company.

Onstage, Fabian was holding his audience captive. Despite the enormous number of people there, the room was almost silent except for his ethereal voice, and the music he was making alone using a keyboard, a laptop, an assortment of pedals, and his violin. He was wearing billowy white pants, sheer enough that the stage lights shone through them. He was bare chested, but wore several sparkling chains around his neck, and a few more around his narrow waist. Gold armbands snaked around his biceps, and even from the back of the room, Ilya could see he was wearing a lot of makeup. He looked magical and sensual. A prize for sure. Ilya couldn’t be happier that Ryan was the one who’d won him.

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