I’d quickly gotten spoiled by having Mason next to me at night. Since the All-Star break, I’d been restless whether we were home or on the road. Even a queen size bed was too big when I reached out in the middle of the night and came back with nothing but cold cotton against my skin. My longing had only grown the past two nights because we had decided that it was best if Mason stayed at the hotel with the team rather than sneaking to my house after the games. Knowing that he was less than ten miles away when he should be here with me made it nearly impossible to sleep.
When my phone started ringing, I rolled over and grabbed it without looking at the display. “Hey babe, did I wake you?”
Like Pavlov’s dog and a bell, my cock stirred to life at the sound of Mason’s voice. I was never going to get to sleep tonight, and tomorrow was my start. This was bad. “Hardly,” I scoffed, sliding my hand beneath the waistband of my lounge pants. “I keep thinking about how stupid it was of me to agree that you should stay with the team.”
“Aww, do you miss me?” he teased. As I laid there, my mind wandered to all the things I wanted to be doing tonight and I started stroking my dick. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, not wanting Mason to know what I was doing.
“Yeah, I miss you,” I groaned. “Happy now?”
Mason was quiet for a moment and my hand stilled. I could hear him breathing into the phone and closed my eyes, imagining his fingers curled around his broad shaft. “No, I’m not happy,” he admitted. “I wish I was in bed next to you so you could help me take care of this problem I seem to have.”
“Yeah? And what problem would that be?” My hand resumed its steady up and down motion, squeezing at the base and my fingers gliding over the leaking tip on each upstroke.
“I’ve already beat off twice, and yet I’m lying here hard as a rock, thinking about burying myself down your throat.” His voice was thick and raspy, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was jerking his own cock. That meant he was alone in his room, because no way would he be this bold otherwise.
“What else do you want?” I pressed. There had been plenty of times when we’d made off-handed sexual comments on the phone, but we’d never been able to do this. It wasn’t enough, but it would have to be until tomorrow night. His teammates knew that he’d moved, but not that he was living up here, so he’d ride back to Chicago with them after tomorrow’s game and then he’d come home.
“I want your cock so deep in my ass that I can’t breathe,” he continued. I wanted that too, so badly I considered driving down to sneak him out of the hotel. “I want you to dig your fingers into my hips, hard enough that I have bruises for days after you get on the plane.”
“Mace, I want you so bad. Let me come to you,” I pleaded. His breathing quickened and I knew he was close. “Tomorrow night, don’t wear anything you’re going to miss, because I can’t guarantee I won’t rip the clothes off your body. We’ll have the house to ourselves, and I’m going to fuck you in as many rooms as possible.”
“Baby, if you keep saying shit like that, I’m going to blow,” he warned me.
“Do it, Mace,” I encouraged him, wanting to hear him let go. Wanting him to come with me, because my balls were drawn so tight to my body it hurt. “Come with me!”
Mason groaned my name and I closed my eyes, imagining his head thrown back as he spilled over his hand. That was enough to send me over the edge, filling the air with incoherent moaning. “Feel better?” I asked when I caught my breath enough to speak.
“No, but it’ll have to do,” he grumbled. I loved the fact that he didn’t worry about hiding his true feelings from me. If anything, I was the one who needed to work on being more open in our relationship. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning when I get up.”
“Okay, babe. Love you.”
“You too,” he practically whispered into the phone. We both stayed on the line, waiting for the other person to hang up the phone. Mason was the first to break the silence, chuckling. “Hang up the phone, Sean.”
“No, you,” I teased. It was a stupid game, but it was what we did when we were apart.
“I hung up first last time, it’s your turn,” he argued.
“You seriously keep track of who hangs up first?” I asked in disbelief.
“Well, yeah. It’s not like I have anything else to do at night since I’m not going out partying with the guys anymore,” he scoffed. “So hang up, otherwise neither of us are going to get any sleep.”
“There’s something seriously wrong with you.” I rolled toward Mason’s side of the bed and clutched his pillow. He’d been on the road long enough that I could barely smell him anymore, but enough to get me through. Tomorrow morning, I’d change the sheets so they were fresh when he got home. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Sweet dreams, baby.” I didn’t say anything more since that’d lead to another round of bickering over who was going to hang up first.
True to his word, I woke up hours later to the sound of my phone ringing. Mason asked me to join him in town for breakfast, and I was once again tempted to break my routine so I could see him. Instead, I reminded him that we only had to get through about twelve more hours before we’d be alone together.
He set down his phone long enough to order room service while I started making myself an egg white omelet. It wasn’t at all satisfying, but I was trying to make up for not working out as hard as I was used to. It was a sacrifice that was worth it since Mason was the reason for my semi-slacker lifestyle. We talked until it was time for me to get in the shower.
“Good luck out there today,” Mason said as the water warmed up. “If you manage to pull off the win today, I’ll make sure you’re so relaxed before tomorrow that the trainer will think you went off for a midnight massage.”