Page 119 of Ethan

“You can—with my hair,” Hank said when he lifted his head.

Ethan had known he’d liked that, but the knowledge that he wasaskingfor it sent another molten pulse through him.

And it rose even hotter when his hands found Hank’s hair and tugged, Hank groaning around his cock.

One moment, one lick, one wet slide at a time, Ethan could feel Hank begin to abandon his meticulous approach, losing himself to it. Ethan, who’d been on the edge from practically the first moment he’d realized what Hank wanted to do, began to pant. Babble nonsense. Shit he might be embarrassed about later, but there was something sacred and special about this bed and its space. A judgment-free zone. Like anything was allowed.

“Fuck, fuck, feels so good,” Ethan rambled. His fingers tightened in Hank’s hair. Wanting to pull him off before he came, because that seemed like the polite thing to do, even though nothing about this seemed particularly polite.

But Hank wouldn’t go, and Ethan fell right into his orgasm like that, right down Hank’s throat. The pleasure took on a brighter, sharper edge, knowing that Hank had wanted it, that he’daskedfor it.

Damn, his guy was so fucking hot.

Hank panted into his stomach, and this time when he pulled, he came, pliant and easy, and Ethan kissed him. Groaning a little at the taste of himself against Hank’s tongue.

Never would’ve dreamed that was hot, either, but again, Hank was slowly, inexorably redefining whathotwas, one moment at a time.

“I got you,” Ethan promised as Hank ground against his hand, Ethan feeling a wet patch against his fingertips.

Also hot.

Goddamn.

“Tell me it turned you on,” Ethan demanded—didn’t ask.

Hank just stared at him, pupils blown and eyes huge. He nodded.

“Fuck,” Ethan said and shoved his sweatpants and his underwear down. He couldn’t wait a moment longer.

“I’m . . . I’m so close,” Hank warned, breath heaving, but Ethan didn’t listen. Didn’t care. He leaned in, wrapping his hand around the base of Hank’s dick and licked the head. Felt it jump against his tongue.

“Oh God,” Hank declared unsteadily. “You gotta—you gotta—”

Ethan didn’t hear what else he had to do, because he was too busy losing himself in the taste and the weight of Hank’s cock. He’d never done this before, either, but he’d fantasized about it enough times it only felt like reality blooming out of his daydreams.

It didn’t take very long, and Ethan was already planning—plotting, really—the next time he could get his mouth on Hank’s dick, when suddenly Hank’s hands were digging into his hair, firm against his scalp. And fuck, if Hank was going to swallow, then Ethan was too.

He took Hank as deep as he could and felt Hank’s whole body tighten and then release. It was a little messy, maybe, but he liked it anyway. Thought that maybe he could make it neater next time, but then when he lifted his head and saw Hank watching him wipe his mouth, he realized that maybe heshouldn’t.

“Shit, that was so good,” Hank said and pulled him down, Ethan curling into him.

“Ten-out-of-ten stars, no notes,” Ethan murmured, exhaling as Hank’s hands stroked through his hair.

“I think I’m gonna love road trips,” Hank agreed.

“You think?” Ethan teased.

Hank just laughed. “Maybe I want to collect some additional evidence.”

And Ethan wasn’t ever going to disagree with that sentiment. He lifted his head and kissed Hank.

“And maybe this time, we’ll take our time,” Ethan suggested, but from the way his body was already stirring, he didn’t know if they had the patience for that, yet.

Still, the night was young.

Ethan had been listening to his brothers—and Livvy, too, to a lesser extent—complain for years about how difficult the travel was in the NHL. How much it sucked to go across country for a week and play a bunch of games. Never having enough time to carve out for sleep, so you had to find it wherever you could—the plane or the bus.

It was a lot of hurry up, and, also,wait.