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I grab a cinnamon roll from the counter and throw it at him.
“No!” he yells, ducking to avoid getting hit. “Not the cinnamon roll! You treat that with fucking respect!”
I look at the cinnamon roll now in pieces on the floor. “What the fuck is up with you and cinn–”
The oven timer goes off, and we both still as we’re brought back to reality.
Luca holds a hand up. “Truce. I need to get that.”
I roll my eyes and step aside, gesturing for him to do what he needs to do.
He eyes me as he walks to the oven, then takes a tray of muffins out.
“You already had fucking muffins in there,” I say, pissed off now that he was so upset about missing batter for half a fucking muffin.
“These are oatmeal, asshole. Not blueberry.” He shoots me a look over his shoulder and I try real fucking hard not to roll my eyes again.
I wipe the batter from the side of my face as Luca sets his muffins down and turns to face me. His eyes travel over my face and down my body, which is covered in batter and flour. It’s all over his clothes as well, and his hair is almost white from the amount of flour in it.
A smile tugs at my lips as I take in the mess of us and the kitchen, and Luca chuckles. The second I bring my eyes back to his, he steps forward and slams his lips into mine.
I grab his waist and pull him close as he pushes me up against the fridge and I taste the muffin batter on his lips. He pushes his hips into mine, and I can already feel him straining against his pants.
Our kiss is heated and desperate as his hand drops to undo my belt buckle, and he immediately reaches into my jeans to stroke my now hard cock. I feel him grimace a bit from the pain of my mouth against his cut lip, but he doesn’t stop.
And what’s really fucking weird is that the batter on his hand actually feels good on my cock.
I shove my hand into his sweatpants as well, and he groans into my mouth as I wrap my hand around his dick and pump him with the same intensity he’s working me.
“Fuck, Ty,” he grunts, his other hand gripping the back of my neck tight as he drops his forehead to my shoulder.
I pant heavily against him as we jerk each other, frantic and needy and a complete reflection of the messy space around us.
“Oh my god,” I groan as tingles start to rise up my legs and I feel my release rushing to the surface. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
Luca nods against my shoulder, then lifts his head to slam his lips to mine again. I swallow down his moans as I feel him tense, and I fall over the edge with him.
Then he steps back and falls to his knees, keeping his eyes on me as he slowly and deliberately licks the cum and batter from my cock.
Then he licks his lips with a smile and a chuckle. “I guess that was fun.”
THIRTY-ONE
“I can do this. Sweep, and change the fight. Sweep, then I’m in control.”
I watch Luca mumble to himself as he buttons his shirt, then he repeats the same phrase while pointing at himself in the bathroom mirror.
“You’ll be fine,” I say to him as I shove my fight shorts in my gym bag and zip it closed.
He turns around, peering out of the bathroom at me like he just remembered I was here. “Maybe I should bring you after all.”
I shake my head as panic at that thought sets in. “We both know that’s not a good idea.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Bringing my ex-rival, who I’m now in love with, to dinner with my family would only prolong the conversation. And no one wants that.” He exits the bathroom and nods thoughtfully to himself. “If this goes well, we can do the whole meet the parents thing next time. For now, I need to be in and out as fast as possible. Slap the bandaid on, you know?” He nods again, placing his hands on his hips as he blows out a breath.
“Rip the bandaid off,” I correct him.
He furrows his brow at me. “Ew, why? That just opens wounds, doesn’t it? Isn’t the point to make it better, so you put the bandaid on?” He tilts his head and gives me a look that says I should know better. “Come on, Ty.”
