“Wow, so that was embarrassing.”

He’s trying to make a joke, but I can tell by the way his jaw is clenched that Teague is actually mortified by what just happened. He’s got no reason to be.

“Teague—”

He must think I’m going to try to back out of this now that I think he’s some sort of three-pump chump—which I don’t—so he starts spilling excuses. “It’s just that you’re here, and you’re real, and you’re you, and I don’t, I can’t, I—”

“Whoa, there.”

I stroke his cheek and kiss his temple, the corner of his mouth. I’d kiss his mouth—would love to, in fact, because he’s delicious—but he scrubs a hand over his face and groans.

“I can’t believe I did that. The one guy I actually want to fuck and I blow my load before we can get anywhere close? This is an incredibly cruel joke.”

I can’t do anything but laugh at his agonized mumbling, and then immediately feel terrible.

“Don’t think about it like that. It’s, you know, an adjustment. Most of us have to do it. Going from getting ourselves off as quickly as possible because speed is a virtue when you don’t want your parents walking in on you in your bedroom or in the shower? And then all of a sudden we have to learn how to draw it out to be with a partner so we can satisfy them? It’s not easy and it takes practice.”

Teague removes his hand from his face and blinks up at me, expression as mournful as a puppy who you’ve refused to play fetch with. Clearly he needs more reassurance and I’m happy to give it to him. It’s not lip service, I really believe this. God knows I wasn’t going all night with my first few boyfriends. Hell, I was lucky if I could get through a song by The Cure without splooging. So I kiss him again, gripping his square jaw between my hands. “Plus, you’ve got all this stuff coming at you. That’s a whole new layer of what-the-fuck. Bodies are unruly at the best of times. I want to be one-hundred percent clear with you that I am in no way upset, or disappointed or turned off, or any of those other things you’re worried about.”

He looks unconvinced and I’m having trouble figuring out how exactly I can get this through his big block head.

“Is there something going on here that I don’t get? Is there some way I could make this better? Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

Teague’s gaze slides away from mine and I shake his head gently, trying to bring his attention back to my face. I am attempting to emanate out of my pores how thrilled I am to be with him, and how much it doesn’t freaking matter to me that he came earlier than would have been ideal. I mean, if I had any doubts that he’s into me, that would’ve helped convince me that this is for real.

Finally he looks at me, his bright blue eyes pleading. “I want to be the best you’ve ever had.”

Oh, jeez.

“That’s what you’re worried about? Seriously? You are. You give a damn fine blowjob and I’ve never been as turned on by anyone as I am by you. Plus, you’ve made me feel the most. Doesn’t that count all by itself?”

He shrugs, his massive shoulder rising like a boulder out of the sea. “Sort of?”

Goddamn toxic masculinity. Before I can protest and give him a lengthy lecture, his face lights up. Maybe something I said finally hit the right part of his brain.

“Turn over.”

“What? This isn’t—”

“I said turn the fuck over.”

I appreciate that he hasn’t physically flipped me over which he could damn well do and though I think he’s out of his fricking mind for feeling like he has to prove himself and this won’t do for what I’m now hoping will be the long term, maybe in the short term this is a good solution. So I gamely turn onto my stomach, stretching out in his soft sheets. It’s cozy in his bed, comfortable. I could spend the whole day here and not be sorry about it.

Pulling the pillow under my head, I make myself comfortable because who knows what he’s got in mind.

“Elbows and knees, please.”

Oh. Just the thought of Teague behind me while I’m in that position makes arousal cascade through my veins.

I press up, spreading my knees a bit to make sure I’m steady up here, and I feel really…exposed. It’s one thing to be on hands and knees when you know your ass is going to get fucked momentarily and there’s going to be someone’s hips pistoning behind you and he won’t actually be able to see anything. This is a whole other matter. I mean, I took a quick shower before I talked to Dylan earlier, but it’s still enough to make a guy paranoid.

Embarrassment is warring with arousal and I can’t quite tell what’s going to win until Teague grips my ass cheeks in his big hands. Being wildly turned on it is. Especially when he squeezes, kneads. Not that there’s a ton for him to work with because I’m kinda bony, but he doesn’t seem to mind. And every time he pulls my cheeks apart, I want to die a little more. Is his plan just to toy with me? Make me wait? Drive me crazy? Because he’s doing a really fucking great job of that.

“You know…”

I know nothing. My brain has gone blank because all it has room for is wondering what the hell Teague is planning to do.

“I’ve always been curious about rimming.”

Okay, I had still had some brain cells left functioning. The only reason I know that is because they’ve now ceased. Rimming?!

Teague’s still grabbing my ass, molding it in his hands, pressing and pulling gently to expose my hole, and now he’s running thumbs along the sides of my crack and I’m about to pass out. Is he expecting a response from me? First I’m going to have to figure out how to make my mouth work.

I manage to croak out, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Those thumbs are still stroking, all the way from the top of my cleft, down the length of my crack, and I shiver as he skims the hole and continues down to my taint and lightly scrapes his nails where my balls start to hang down. I’m going to die. Before I do, I might buck him off me. But I can’t, because he inches forward, trapping my ankles between his knees and uses his grip on my ass to keep me in place.

I shut my eyes tight, and shove my face into the pillow, trying to muffle my groan.

“But I never did it because licking someone’s ass…that’s not really a first date kinda move, right? And also, it didn’t seem appealing enough to outweigh the ways it might turn out to be not so appealing. But you just took a shower and everything about you turns me on, and I feel like if I’d enjoy tonguing anyone’s hole, it’s gonna be yours.”

I’ve started chanting “fuck, fuck, fuck” under my breath into the pillow, because this is payback. His goal is surely to make me come in ten seconds flat and honestly? Who could blame me with the words coming out of his mouth? They’re creating all these filthy images in my head, not to mention my brain going positively haywire trying to figure out what this is going to feel like.

Teague’s not the only one who’s been curious about rimming, but he’s also not the only one who hasn’t done it because of…certain considerations. I’ve been fucked, guys have gone down on me, I have done many of the sex things. And yet my thighs are trembling at the thought of…

Holy fuck.

Teague’s warm breath mists over my hole and it’s all I can do to not jump out of my skin. With surprise, with desperation, with anticipation, and only a smidge of leftover mortification.

“Teague—”

His name comes out as a huffy, gasping plea. I didn’t know I could make a sound like that.

“Could you be quiet? I need to concentrate.”

He expects me to be quiet? Maybe I can fake it if I bite down on the pillow? Although I wouldn’t be surprised if I get a mouthful of feathers and his bedroom ends up looking like a chicken coop. Especially when—

Oh, hell.

There’s the first tentative darting of his tongue right over skin that has never, ever been touched like this. Touched, yes, pleasured, sure, but this is— Oh, fuck he’s done it again. Less hesitant this time, he licks longer, slower, his tongue flatter to cover more of my skin and I shudder. I’m not going to survive this.

Never mind of course that my dick is hard as hell and throbbing and leaking already. The swell of excitement is already at the top of the dam that’s holding it back, the pre-come evidence that it can’t even be contained.

And yet Teague is showing me absolutely no mercy, holding me fast with my cheeks spread. He’s not merely licking anymore, but his entire mouth is plastered to me, his tongue slicking over my hole, up and down my cleft—particularly down—but always returning, and when he sucks gently I nearly collapse, held up only by his hands and his legs bracing mine.

Then, suddenly, he stops and relief exits my body in the form of a breath I’ve apparently been holding. Sweet reprieve. Except that now I have the urge to push back because I want more. It was one thing to toy with and tease each other last night without any real expectation of getting off, but this just seems cruel.

Until he says, “Jesus, Christian, you taste good. I wasn’t sure, but this is… You’re so fucking hot. Makes me want to—”

He doesn’t even finish his sentence, but dips his head again and the next thing I know, his tongue is inside me. Just a little, but I don’t need more than that. I spill, my climax pouring out of me and onto the sheets that are going to need a hell of a wash.

Spitting the pillow out of my mouth, I have to tell him how good he’s making me feel, how he’s blown my mind, how this is better than I could have imagined. But my circuits aren’t functioning like they should—maybe some of them have been sucked out of my brain along with all the ejaculate in my body—because all I can get out is, “Teague, Christ, holy, oh my, Jesus, hell, I…”

Yep, all the blasphemies. All of them. It’s all I can do to collapse to the side of the giant and spreading wet spot I’ve made on the bed instead of flopping directly onto it. When I do, Teague wraps himself around me, his hard-again cock digging into my butt and his thick arm wrapping around me. The better to cradle me with I suppose. He kisses the back of my neck and nuzzles there.

“So, you, uh, liked that? It was okay?”

I bite his arm because I used up all my words already.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, Teague, you’re a sex god.’”

“Fair,” I manage to croak, and he buries a snort-laugh in the curve that connects my neck and shoulder.

“Cool, because I gave it my best rim shot. Get it? You’re a drummer? Rimming? Rim shot? Eh?”

I groan, but drag his arm tighter around me and bite him all up and down his arm, leaving light crescents in his skin with my teeth. I can’t believe he’s actually mine.

Thank you for reading Thrown Off Track! I hope you enjoyed Christian and Teague’s friends-to-lovers romance. Turn the page to see the cover and blurb for , book two in the License to Love series, which is an expanded version of the short story “Good Men” in the anthology. And in case you missed it, there’s an excerpt from which is Zane and Rowan’s book, and also the first book in the Snow and Ice Games series—all the members of License to Game need their own happily ever afters!