“After this marriage, I wouldn’t put anything past you.”
“About that. Uh … our marriage. We’re stuck in it for at least a year, right?”
“Right.”
“Maybe … we could keep doing what we’ve been doing? It’s not like we’re allowed to be with anyone else, so I figure … why not give it a shot?”
Can I keep this up for a whole year? Pretending to be married to him while actually in love with him? Having sex with him and getting him off because he’s not allowed to have sex with his usual type?
“It might be a lot to ask, but I figured it’s the most logical thing.”
“You? Logical? Since when?”
“Ha ha. You’re sooo funny.”
The thing is, it is logical. We’re married, so we may as well get the perks of it.
But how will adding sex to our dynamic—no matter how much I’ve wanted this for years—affect our friendship?
And as if even contemplating doing this with Dex summons him, my phone starts ringing with Oskar’s name on the screen. Again. I hit the Ignore button for the billionth time and wonder how long it will take for him to get sick of me ignoring him and hop a plane to Vegas.
Our summer only has a couple of weeks left, so I’m hoping he’s too busy to come yell at me in person. The other guys have tried to contact me, but they’re nowhere near as pushy and protective as Oskar is.
Thanks to making it to the Stanley Cup finals last season, our vacation has been short, but I’d go back to practice tomorrow if it meant I could avoid Oskar for longer. But thinking of preseason training also makes me pause. Because if Dex and I do this, it could affect our team too.
“What about the team?” I ask Dex.
“What about them? This has nothing to do with them. This is about you and me. About us.”
Us.
Dex and Tripp.
The Mitchell brothers.
Best friends.
Husbands.
Fuck buddies?
Then again, can you really be fuck buddies with your husband?
Nineteen
DEX
When our break started, I never would have believed I’d be in a relationship with my best friend by the end of it. It’s a weird dynamic because he’s my husband, but we’ve really only just started dating, so he should be my boyfriend, but on the other hand, it’s Tripp.
If I’d pulled my head out of my ass years ago and realized how good it is to have sex with him, we probably would be married by now anyway—if we’d ever wanted that—because the only difference between then and now is that I get to make him come at night.
And goddamn, whoever sent me that message was right—it is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.
“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Tripp asks, joining me in the kitchen. He’s pulled on a pair of sleep shorts, even though we’ve both been sleeping naked every night. I pull him to me and snap the elastic waistband in protest.
“Can the first thing be banning pants?” I ask.
“Our sisters might stop visiting if we bring that rule in.”
“Good,” I grumble. “Then we’ll stop being interrupted when we want to have sex.”
The last few nights this week, our sisters have taken it upon themselves to stop in for dinner or invite us out for drinks. It’s nothing unusual to how it normally is during the off-season, but it does mean I haven’t been getting anywhere near enough orgasms.
Tripp laughs. “I’ve had so many handjobs this week my dick is going to get chafed.”
“About that …” I shift, rubbing my thumbs over his sides. “Maybe I could, ah, try using my mouth next time.”
“You want to suck me off?”
I’m quick to nod, and I can’t seem to make myself stop.
Tripp strokes my throat. “Will you swallow?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Think you’re man enough to take it all?” I know that’s Tripp’s teasing voice. I’m just not sure whether it’s because he thinks I can’t eat cum, or I’m all talk with no follow-through.
“Let’s find out.” Then I sink to my knees, pulling his shorts down with me.
Eye to eye with his cock, I have a moment’s hesitation.
“Problem?” Tripp asks.
“Looks a whole lot different from this angle.” He’s not fully erect yet, but this close up, I can see his manscaped red pubes, heavy balls, and rapidly thickening length. The scent of sex hits my nose and makes my own cock take interest.
Okay. Time to blow my best friend’s mind by blowing his other head first.
I take him in my hand and lean in to lick the swollen tip. Hmm. Okay. Skin. A hint of bodywash. Not bad. I flatten out my tongue and lick him again, then start at the base and work my way up. My tongue traces every vein and dips into the ridge under his head, and when a tiny bead of precum appears, I lean in to taste it.
It tastes a little salty, but … I think I like it. My lips wrap around the tip, and I suck, trying to draw more out, to get another taste, and when it bursts on my tongue, the taste shoots straight to my cock. Yep. Okay. I definitely, definitely like that.
I press my palm to where my cock is straining against my briefs as my gaze flicks up to check in with Tripp.
His lips are parted, pupils blown, and when our gazes clash, he lets out this strangled noise in his throat and drops back to lean against the counter.
“Shit, Dex.” The desperation in his voice spurs me on.
I try to keep eye contact as I draw him in farther, but his cock bumps the top of my mouth, and I gag so hard I almost hurl. I’m coughing as I pull back, and just as I’m about to apologize, his fingers twist through my hair.
“That was hot. Keep going.”
Challenge accepted.
I dive on him, and at first, I’m hyperaware of everything I’m doing, probably trying too hard, but every time I glance up, Tripp’s stare gets hotter and hotter. He keeps a tight hold on my hair, and between that and the tiny thrusts he’s doing into my mouth, I’m starting to get too turned on to care how I’m doing.
My only aim is to make Tripp feel as incredible as he makes me, and every little drop of precum feels like a gift, a sign that I’m on the right track and to keep going. I have no idea if there’s too much spit or I’m gagging too much, but I blow him like my life depends on it, and I know from being on the receiving end that even sloppy blowjobs feel amazing. Besides, now we’re together, I’ll have plenty of time to figure this out.
I moan around his length as I manage to get more than halfway down this time, and there’s something about his obvious arousal, about being on my knees for him, that is so goddamn hot I can’t control myself. My hand closes around my cock, and I squeeze, trying to get it to calm down, wanting to focus on nothing but Tripp and making him feel good.
“My balls,” he says, voice rough.
I pull off long enough to spit in my hand, and then I cup his balls and keep sucking him. His thrusts are getting deeper, and as I roll and squeeze his sac, it draws up tight to his body.
“Touch my hole.”
Umm …
Huh.