Spite Crush (Rock Hard #2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

~Zak~

“You’re so fucking hot,” I growled, slamming my hips into him. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you standing there with my cum dripping off your face. I’ve been hard for a fucking week.”

Kellen’s hands fisted into the sheets beneath him as he rocked back into me, forcing me deeper and harder as his breath hitched loudly.

I’d been pleasantly surprised to find him naked in my room when I’d gotten home from practice. He hadn’t even let me shower before he jumped me, climbing me like a tree and kissing me, urging me toward the bed and telling me he was already prepped and ready for me.

“God, yes,” I hissed. “Take it, Kel.” My balls were so tight they almost hurt and it felt as if actual sparks were firing up my spine as pleasure ripped through me.

Reaching under him, I grabbed his cock in my hand and before I even managed one full stroke he was screaming, his shaft jerking in my palm as he came, which made his ass spasm around me and I followed him over the edge immediately, crying out as I filled him with my own release.

My legs gave out and I collapsed onto him, both of us falling to the mattress together.

“Really?” he asked, his voice breathy and the word broken with a choked laugh.

I managed to shift off of him and he rolled over on his back, dragging his hand over his stomach and chest, shaking his head as he reached over to wipe the remnants of his release on my arm.

“You just have to get someone’s cum on my tats, don’t you?” he teased. “Now we both need a shower.”

“That wasn’t on purpose,” I said, leaning over and dragging my tongue across the fluid still present on his skin. “But you do look incredible.”

“You’re going to get me hard again,” he warned me, grabbing my face and pulling me up to kiss him.

“That’s not much of a deterrent,” I said, trying to move back to his stomach again, but he laughed and held me firm.

“Shower. And food,” he said.

“Well, I still don’t have any of that,” I warned him. “But fine.” I got up and grabbed my jeans from the floor, digging through the pockets then tossing him my phone. “Order something and it should be here by time I’m done with you.”

“You mean by time we’re out of the shower?” he corrected me.

“I said what I said.”

*** *

One shower and one orgasm each later, we were sprawled out on the floor of my living room, empty Taco Bell wrappers scattered around the carpet and both of us regretting the amount of tacos we’d both consumed.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything,” he assured me.

“What does HSF stand for?”

“I can’t tell you that.” His eyes widened as he shook his head .

“I find it hard to believe that no one has ever guessed,” I said. “Or that none of you have ever told anyone.”

“It’s the best kept secret in music,” he insisted. “The most common assumption is that it stands for High School Friends. But that’s not it. It would be fitting though, since that’s the last time all three of us were actually friends.”

“It’s gotten that bad? I mean, I know you were agitated with them when we talked on Wednesday, but I guess I didn’t realize you don’t even consider yourselves friends anymore.”

He’d been more than agitated, actually. When he’d admitted he was thinking about walking away from his band, from his entire career, I’d been shocked. I couldn’t imagine anything bad enough to get me to walk away from hockey.

“Ford and I have always bumped heads. He can’t stand how disorganized and flighty I am.”

“You have ADHD.” I stared at him incredulously. How could anyone blame him for that ?

“I’m aware.” He chuckled softly. “But Ford thinks it’s an excuse.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Tim isn’t so bad unless Ford is egging him on. I think that no matter what happens with the band, me and Tim will at least end up Christmas card friends.”

“So you’re really considering breaking up the band, and you still won’t tell me what your real name is?”

“What if I told you it doesn’t stand for anything?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I insisted .

“Well, here’s the thing. All of our favorite bands were referred to by their initials. MCR, FIR, BVB. So we knew we wanted a three initial name.”

“So it really doesn’t stand for anything?” I wasn’t sure if that was genius or really fucking annoying. Also, I had no idea who those bands were he mentioned, but I kept that to myself.

“Nah.” He reached out and punched me lightly in the shoulder. “It totally stands for something. But I had you going. ”

“You’re such an asshole.” I shook my head. “What happened to truth between us? If we’re going to be partners, we shouldn’t be keeping secrets.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What hockey players have you slept with?”

Fuck.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” I snapped. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

“And this isn’t mine,” he reminded me. “Only the band members know. Well, us and Rye Vixon. ”

“Rye Vixon? He’s that asshole from Whiskey & Rye, right? The one who runs his mouth online all the time?”

“Well, first of all, that’s a big old pot calling the kettle black. Also, Rye’s not an asshole,” Kellen said. “He was the one who brought me to the game in Chicago. You saw him in the locker room. And third… what ? You know Whiskey & Rye but you don’t know HSF?”

“Well, they’re really famous,” I insisted before realizing that was a pretty insulting thing to say to him .

“ I’m really famous!” He laughed and shook his head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I know.” I grinned at him. “Honestly I only know who they are because they’re on the soundtrack for my favorite video game. I didn’t recognize him that night because I was a little focused on you at the time.”

“Plus he wasn’t wearing makeup,” Kellen said, grinning at me. “The video game, huh? Inglorious?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Do you play it, too? ”

“You’re a moron,” he said. “Or you’re not very good at the game.”

“Well, both of those could be true,” I said, chuckling.

“All the songs in the final level are mine,” he said. “I also did soundtrack songs for All Metal, Crash, and Dubious.”

“You, or HSF?” I asked.

“Me.” He shrugged. “But then, all of HSF’s songs are mine, too. I get solo writing credits on everything we do. Tim and Ford are great at playing, but they’re not so much into the creative side. Or the business side. They pretty much just show up and get paid.”

I was surprised at the lack of bitterness in his tone when he said that. It seemed like he was the one putting in all the work for the band. That had to be exhausting.

But maybe I thought differently because I was part of a team and every aspect of our games depended on everyone doing their jobs.

“I’m really sorry you’ve been dealing with all of that,” I told him. “Is there anything I can do? ”

“Unfortunately, this is one of those things that I have to deal with on my own,” he said. “I have a meeting with our label on Thursday, so…I guess we’ll see what kind of mood I’m in.”

“You’re just going to vibe it?” I teased him.

“Pretty much.” He shrugged. “I’ve made worse decisions on less.”

“That is not the flex you think it is.” I laughed. “But I like it.”

“Glad you approve.” He groaned, rolling onto his back and covering his stomach with his hand. “That was too many tacos. Do you eat like that every day?”

“I’m a growing boy,” I said. “And I play competitive sports. You should never try to go taco for taco with me.” I shifted over and rubbed soft circles over his stomach. “Do you want a pickle?”

“Shut up,” he hissed. “I want to go to bed.”

“Well, we can certainly do that.”

“To sleep,” he clarified .

“Fine,” I said, getting to my feet and reaching out a hand to pull him up. “We’ll sleep. Nerd.”

“You have no idea how big of a nerd I am,” he said. “But that’s a conversation for a different day.”

The truth was, I was a giant nerd, too. I just hadn’t wanted to admit that to him. But eventually, he was going to see my Star Wars room. Then we’d see how in love with me he truly was.

Because I wasn’t getting rid of my custom life-sized Boba Fett statue for anyone.

Not even Kellen Fox.