Training Season (E) (MM) by Leta Blake

Author:Leta Blake [Blake, Leta]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-12-03T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Why are you so upset? You were almost late to the Olympics, and this isn’t even close to as important,” Rob said.

“Don’t throw the Olympics in my face, bitch.”

“I’m not your bitch,” Rob countered as he stepped on the gas. “I’m pretty sure you’re my bitch.”

“Sure, eat some come from a guy’s ass, and he’s all, ‘you’re my bitch now.’ Wouldn’t my mother be proud?” He shifted uncomfortably.

“You sure you’re okay?” Rob’s brow furrowed.

“Yes. I told you, I get far worse bruises every day on the ice. My ass can take a lot.”

Rob grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

Matty crossed his legs and held onto his knees, letting the swerve of the truck throw him into the door a bit. “I don’t want to be late, but could you drive less like an insane person?”

Rob smirked. “See, I never failed my driver’s test. Not even once. You however — ”

“I should never have told you that. Is this why relationships fail? People use shit against each other?”

“I don’t know. I think our relationship is going to fail because you’re in love with someone else, and I can’t compete with him.”

The flare of unexpected pain was so shocking and strong that Matty’s hand flew to his chest. He stared out at the city flashing by in devil-may-care Christmas cheer as his gut twisted with a vital, deep, and hurtful anger.

“Figure Skating is all that and a bag of chips,” Rob went on. “You can’t get enough of him. A little bit of hot sex and some good conversation isn’t enough to — ”

“Shut up.” Matty crossed his arms over his chest.

“I — hey, I was just…Matty, sweetheart, I was kidding.”

Matty gave Rob a what-the-fuck look. “In what way is that supposed to be funny? I’m in love with you. And I hate you for it. I hate myself for it. The worst thing is that skating is all consuming. So please, go on and tell me how the hell that’s supposed to be fucking funny?”

“Well — ”

“No.” Matty put up his hand. “See, here’s the thing. I’m fucked up. No, this is fucked up. I’m on my hands and knees for you, taking it however you give it to me, and I don’t want it to ever stop, and it’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.”

A glance from the corner of his eye showed that Rob’s fingers were tight on the wheel, and that he was nodding slowly, swallowing hard.

“Funny, but I feel the same way. Like I’m the one on my hands and knees, taking what I can get.”

Matty’s stomach twisted at the frayed ends to Rob’s voice — the desperate sadness. He felt a strong, crazy urge to unbuckle his seat belt and crawl into Rob’s lap, even though they were driving.

Matty cleared his throat. “I don’t want this to be over.” And how was it they could go from scorching, soul-quaking sex, to playful tenderness afterward — to fighting like this in the blink of an eye?

“It’s not.” Rob reached out and squeezed his hand.

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