The Long Game (Game Changers #6)(18)

“What?” Shane asked, because there had to be a reason why Ilya would break their most important rule.

For the briefest moment, Ilya’s eyes looked sad, and even a bit scared. Then he blinked, and schooled his expression into something more neutral.

“Nothing,” Ilya said as he stepped away. “Nothing.”

Ilya turned his gaze back to the stage, but Shane kept watching Ilya. His shoulders were slumped, and his jaw was tense. He looked...defeated.

Shane glanced around. The room was dark. It was crowded, but everyone’s attention was locked on Fabian, and he and Ilya were at the very back anyway. Shane chewed his lip, and made a quick decision before he started overthinking things.

He took a sideways step so his hip brushed against Ilya’s, then placed a hand on the small of his back. It wasn’t much, but Ilya’s whole body relaxed as he leaned back into the touch. He glanced down at Shane and gave him a small, grateful smile.

Shane smiled back, and traced a little heart on Ilya’s back with his finger. Ilya raised one hand toward Shane, and it hovered in the air for a moment before Ilya pulled it back to rest over his own heart. He nodded at Shane, then turned his gaze back to the stage.

Shane kept his hand on Ilya’s back for the rest of the show, removing it only briefly to applaud after each song. He felt like he was getting away with something, the way his palm pressed into the heat of Ilya’s sweat-soaked back. The way each of Ilya’s silent breaths felt loud against Shane’s fingers.

The song Fabian was performing had sex-drenched, murmured lyrics and sudden, unexpected acapella breaks where he would sigh out lyrics that sent actual shivers through Shane. Everything felt and sounded and smelled like the promise of sex, and Shane was losing his mind a little. How was Ryan not rushing the stage right now? Shane almost wanted to, but not as much as he wanted to grab Ilya’s sweaty T-shirt and pull him into him. Shane wasn’t the kind of guy who would ever fuck someone in a public place, but this was the most he’d thought about it.

Maybe ending a week of celibacy with a concert by Ryan’s sex sorcerer boyfriend hadn’t been the best idea. Shane hoped no one noticed as he carefully adjusted his erection so it wouldn’t be quite so obvious against the tight fabric of his pants.

Ilya, of course, noticed. His smile sent a fresh shiver through Shane, and he bit his bottom lip, gaze locked with Ilya’s.

Soon, Ilya mouthed.

Shane was far too distracted to be driving right now. He was so horny he felt drunk.

He’d insisted on driving tonight, because he’d had enough of putting his life in Ilya’s hands, but now he doubted his decision. His body pulsed with the need to press his skin against Ilya’s. To taste him and take him apart and show him everything he’d been thinking while Ilya had been standing so close to him in that stupidly tight T-shirt, his skin hot and glistening with sweat.

Also, Ilya was massaging Shane’s dick through his pants as he drove.

“D-don’t,” Shane said weakly. “It’s not—fuck—not safe.”

Ilya chuckled and removed his hand. Shane bit back a whimper from the loss. He took a slow breath, steadying himself, and focused on the road.

“You’re so hard,” Ilya observed.

“I’m also driving.”

“I’m not.”

Shane glanced over and saw that Ilya had cupped his own dick through his shorts.

“Don’t do that either,” Shane said, forcing himself to look away.

A soft moan floated over from the passenger seat. Ilya’s eyes were closed, head tipped back, lips parted.

Fuck. Shane was ignoring the road again.

“Stop it,” Shane said. “Seriously. We’ll be home soon.”

“Mm. Not the way you drive.”

Shane’s jaw tightened. “I’m not turning this into a game.” He did his best to ignore how hot the idea of trying to get home before Ilya came was. “I’ll get us home safe and then you can touch all the dicks you want.”

Ilya laughed and held up both of his hands so Shane could see he’d obeyed him. “Fine.”

Shane blew out a breath. “Almost home,” he said, mostly to himself.

“How many dicks will be there? Did you invite some people?”

“You wish.”

“I think you would like it,” Ilya said. “Having an audience.”

Shane wriggled against the leather seat. He really wouldn’t like to be watched, but as a purely imaginary scenario, it fucking did something to him.

“Would you show me off?” Shane asked quietly.

He could feel the heat of Ilya’s gaze even without looking. “I would never stop showing you off,” Ilya said. “If I could.”

“Fucking hell,” Shane muttered.

They made it home, and even got through the door before they crashed into each other, kissing and grabbing, trying to get closer while they struggled to get each other’s clothes off. Ilya won that race, getting Shane naked and pressed against a wall with his hands pinned over his head. Ilya kissed him forcefully while Shane arched toward him, aching for more.

“Want,” Shane murmured mindlessly as Ilya kissed his neck.

“You will get it,” Ilya said in a delicious, low rumble. He was still wearing his shorts, though they were unzipped and barely clinging to his hips. “Was fucking dying in that club.”