Page 52 of Playing His Game

Instead, he planted his feet and put his whole body into the check. “What? You don’t think I can do the job?”

Mo’s mouth dropped open.

“You’re not the only one needing an outlet after that shitshow.”

Adamshouldknow better than to speak ill of the people who owned his professional contract, but nobody was acting like they should tonight, least of all the elder Du Ponts, so he didn’t feel much remorse.

But he might tomorrow if he didn’t check on one thing?—

“Um. As long as you didn’t say that because you’re wasted.”

That snapped Mo out of his stupor. “I hadthree glassesof wine.” He rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t drive, but I’m perfectly capable of deciding whose dick to get on.”

Said dick had taken an active interest in the conversation now, which—it wasn’t like Adam had never had a weirdly timed boner. He’d been a teenager. But it was definitely the first time he’d had a miserable evening and someone had said to him,Hey, want to fuck it out?and his dick had said,Yes please.

Mo was hot, in his campy mean-girl way, and he wasn’t the only one suffering a self-imposed dry spell.

And maybe, if Adam was lucky, he could fuck Mo into being less of a brat. That would be a win across the board.

“So… you got a wall in mind?”

Mo’s eyes widened a fraction as he finally seemed to grasp that Adam was serious. He waved his arms. “Any of them? All?”

Adam could work with that. “Lube and condoms?”

Mo spun so fast, he stumbled a bit as he lunged for one of the kitchen drawers.

“You keep lube in yourkitchen?”

“Never know when you’ll get hungry.” Mo smirked.

Adam stepped up and reeled Mo in. He could think of a better use for that mouth.

Mo groaned and opened under Adam, inviting him and his tongue in.

Fuck, Mo could kiss. Wet and open without being sloppy. Giving without being aggressive. Adam wanted to devour him.

He could do without the crick in his neck from kissing someone so much shorter, though.

Mo wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck and knocked the lube into his cheek. Without looking, Adam pulled the lube and condoms from Mo’s hand and set them down on the counter, then thought of a better use for it.

Adam brought his hands back to Mo’s hips and slid them over his ass, down his thighs, then hoisted him onto the counter and insinuated himself between Mo’s legs. Mo squeaked into his mouth, then moaned.

“Fuck, that was hot. Why am I not fucking more pro athletes?”

“Because then I’d have to give tearful interviews about my unfaithful boyfriend?”

Mo snorted. “Shut up and kiss me, you brute.”

Adam did as instructed. He kissed Mo until they were breathless, then sucked on his jaw and neck, nibbled his ear lobes, searched for any sweet spot that would make Mo gasp. Which he did a lot of. Mo wasn’t a silent lover.

“Fuck, there, give—Shit, we need to get naked, right now.”

Chuckling, Adam reached for Mo’s shirt and started unbuttoning. Mo unwound his arms to help. They wrestled him out of his shirt, and Adam flung it toward the kitchen table. Mo got busy with Adam’s top, rucking it up and gasping between frantic kisses. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so—fuck!—so unfair.”

“I’mhot.” Adam huffed. Mo might not have the looks straight boys coveted, but he was pretty, fit. He’d been cute as a kid, but he’d grown into his looks. He was beautiful now, and Adam bet he’d be devastating at thirty-five. He stepped back enough to look Mo up and down, letting his gaze linger and drag. “You’re one to talk.”

Mo reeled him back in with his heels against Adam’s butt. “Shut up, Murphy, and fuck me.”