Him Sarina Bowen Quotes

But here’s the thing about family, Ryan…blood doesn’t mean shit. You just need to surround yourself with people who do love you, and they become your family.

Jamie Canning was my first crush and my first love. But he was never mine to have.

I’ve been walking around with a hollow chasm in my chest where my heart used to be. But that gaping hole is full again. My heart is back, because Jamie is here. And he fucking loves me.

Love is friendship set in fire.

My dick and I reached an understanding.” “Yeah? And what’s that?” I ask curiously. He shrugs. “We both like you.

I…” He clears his throat. “I’d let you do it, though.” My hand freezes in his hair. “You would?” Wes nods. “I’d let you do anything to me, Canning.

I hold him as close as I dare. Even if my entire life goes to shit before breakfast tomorrow, I’ll always have this night.

Our mouths fit together so perfectly. Every time we kiss, I fall even more in love with him, and it has nothing to do with sex or lust. It's him. His closeness and his scent and the way he soothes me.

God, when I go gay, I really go gay.

Because I’d wanted to touch him more than I’d wanted my next breath.

Like me, Jamie has two speeds: horny and asleep.

It’s us. And it’s perfect.

Did he open the wrong... “Probably shouldna opened all those drawers,” Blake carries on, rubbing his chin. “Ya can’t unsee some of those toys. But everybody has to have his own kinda fun.

Why hasn’t anyone ever told me the prostate was some kind of magical pleasure zone? Are there unicorns and orgasm fairies dancing around in there?

You really do love me, huh?” “Always have.” I swallowed hard. “Always will.

Every kiss still felt like a gift, because I knew how much they cost him.

My weakness is him.

I'm like the worst queer dude ever. Somebody pass me the manual!

I love you. The words are always right there on the tip of my naughty tongue. I swallow them back like I need to and say something much more practical instead. “Have you ever been acquainted with your prostate?

Ready to come harder than you’ve ever come in your life?” I ask solemnly, lifting one of his knees up. He smiles. “You sure you want to put that much pressure on yourself, dude?” “No pressure. Just fact. Science has proven it.

and—wait, I’m sorry, did you call me Ryan Theodore?” She waves her hand as if the question is inconsequential. “I don’t know your middle name so I had to make one up. Because, sweetie, you really needed to be middle-named for mangling those poor onions.

Jesus. Good thing he’s not a traffic cop, because he’s sending enough mixed signals to cause a ten-car pileup.

Last I saw him, he was sucking on a bottle of whiskey like he was trying to make it come.

I am not a snob, because I know opulence doesn't stamp out ignorance and unhappiness.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the day Pat walked into the gym and found us—me, flat on my stomach with Jamie’s knee digging into the back of my neck, while I yelled “Ballsack!” over and over again.

I’m a sexy motherfucker. If only the one person I care about was here to appreciate it.

What are you waiting for, Ryan? Suck it already.

I'm supposed to be here taking measurements, but I haven't even brought a measuring tape. And it's not the apartment I need to measure -- it's the size of my balls.

I have never felt as raw as I feel right now. I’ve just discovered that falling in love has a dark side.

You acted like a total douchecanoe

I’ve just discovered that falling in love has a dark side. When you’re mad at the love of your life, it’s impossible to feel joy.

Love is friendship set on fire. I get it now.

You’re saying you don’t want me?” Aw hell. “No, I’m saying this is a bad idea.” “You’re the king of bad ideas,” he reminds me. “At least this one ends with both of us feeling good.

I fucking love you, and I know that’s inconvenient. But I didn’t get a chance to tell you in Lake Placid, so I’m telling you right now. Just in case we can ever get more than a summer. I love you, and I wish things were different.

I’m attracted to women, no doubt about it. I’m also attracted to men, apparently. Wonderful. Complicated fellow, my dick.

The way I feel about Ryan Wesley…it’s something I thought existed only in the movies. He’s my other half. We complement each other in more ways than I can count. When he’s in the same room, I’m focused on him, and when he’s gone I walk around missing him.

What kind of city doesn’t have a football team? Explain that to me, Wes.” “They do have one,” I point out. “The Argonauts.” Richard narrows his eyes. “Is it an NFL team?” “Well, no, it’s CFL, but—” “Then they don’t have a team,” he says firmly. I stifle a laugh.

And then he kissed him. Right on the lips. In front of God and everybody.

Stop.” I yank the covers higher. “Or I won’t invite you to the wedding.” “To the…? OH MY GOD!

SinnerThree: … Tell me more about lobster sex, if you want. I’m not picky about sex talk as long as someone’s fucking. I laugh softly. This guy’s funny, I’ll give him that. LobsterShorts: I’m fresh out of lobster sex facts atm. BUT…lemme tell you about sea slugs. SinnerThree: Omg yes. I can’t wait for this. Hold on. Let me undo my pants.

Give me the D. You know you want to.

Summer’s a total cocktease.” He shrugs, repeating himself. “It always ends.” He’s right about that. Summer always ends.

You didn’t tell me he had a headache!” “I didn’t know!” “What kind of nurse are you?” “The kind who plays hockey!

Oh, the irony,” he moans, kicking off his shoes. “My boyfriend dragged me to a fucking mall.

Jamie doesn’t leave my side, though. He and I are the calm eye of a friendly, familial hurricane. And I hope the storm will never pass.

The question now isn’t whether I want to fool around with this man. The question is how I’m ever going to give it up.

Probably shouldna opened all those drawers,” Blake carries on, rubbing his chin. “Ya can’t unsee some of those toys. But everybody has to have his own kinda fun.

Our mouths fit together so perfectly. Every time we kiss, I fall even more in love with him, and it has nothing to do with sex or lust. It's him. His closeness and his scent and the way he soothes me.

Two seconds later, he’s there. And I’m stretching out on him like a blanket, and jamming my tongue into his mouth. Jamie moans, but I’m too wrapped up in the taste of him to worry about it. I have my fingers in his hair, and his hot, hard body under mine and it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. - Wes

I guess time flies when you’re playing hockey every day and getting laid every night.

You can bite the pillow when I make you scream.

Es nosotros, y es perfecto (It's us. And it's perfect).

doesn’t mean shit. You just need to surround yourself with people who do love you, and they become your family.

Wes?” I call out warily. “Bedroom,” comes my boyfriend’s muffled response. No, not my boyfriend. My...fiancé? Wow. Still feels surreal to think it.

Then she dropped it and asked. “Did you…deflower him?” Ugh. “Hello, this is 1865 calling. They want their word back.

He doesn’t need skill - he just needs to be here. Him. Here. With me.

Love is friendship set on fire.

Where did your grandparents live, anyway?” Blake makes a dismissive motion with his hand. “The West Bumfuck farmland well outside of Ottawa--” West Bumfuck? Sounds like my kind of place.

Blake Riley is a better man than anyone gives him credit for. And I’m ashamed of myself. I’m so fucking ashamed for ever believing that he was just a stupid jock who was incapable of being serious.

I thought you dumped him.” “Oh, I did. But not because I wanted to. I was just accepting the inevitable. He fell out of love with me, but you can’t dump the weepy rape victim. So I did it for him.

rue the day

Earlier, I told him he’d acted like a douchecanoe. But that’s crap. I’m the one who’s in love with my best friend and pretending I’m not.

The fact that he’d been the first guy I ever loved and the one who made me face some terrifying things about myself…well, all that will go unsaid.

Jamie took another sip from the flask before passing it my way. Beside me, he shifted his hips, and I had to suppress a shudder. My heart’s desire was sitting beside me.

But I just ache from the loss of my best friend / boyfriend / whatever. We never did get around to putting a label on it. And now we never will.

You’re not competing for him, dumbass. He’s already yours.

I can also see myself in a relationship with him. I can see myself being happy with him and never feeling like things were lacking.

Several curious heads turn in Jamie’s direction as he crosses the massive lobby. A flashbulb goes off, but still, he doesn’t stop. He keeps me trapped in a serious stare and erases the distance between us, and then he’s in front of me, those brown eyes twinkling playfully as he leans closer and— Kisses me.

His Facebook post is pure Jamie: Hi all. I feel like a heel doing this over Facebook, but I can’t reach everyone by tomorrow. You’re all going to discuss me on Sunday, anyway. And in case you think my account was hacked, it wasn’t. As proof I’ll confess that I’m the one who broke Mom’s Christmas tree angel when I was seven. It was death by baseball, but I swear she didn’t suffer. Anyway, I have to catch you up on a few developments. I’ve taken the coaching job in Toronto, and I’ve declined my spot in Detroit. This feels like the right career move, but there’s something else. I’m living with my boyfriend (that was not a typo.) His name is Wes, and we met at Lake Placid about nine years ago. In case you were lacking something to talk about over dinner, I’ve fixed that problem. Love you all. Jamie

Wesley, you asshole,” Eriksson says. “Aren’t you going to tell us?” “Tell you what?” I growl. My sex life is none of their goddamn business. “How is he? Jesus Christ. The TV news makes it sound like your boyfriend might be getting last rites.” My fingers falter on the buttons of my bright green checked shirt. “W-what?” Our backup goalie Tomilson speaks up wryly. “I think what Mr. Sensitive is trying to ask is, is your partner okay?

Then I ignore the warning. His eyes widen as I shove my fingers through his hair and tug his head closer. “What—” He doesn’t get to finish that sentence, because I’m smashing my mouth against his.

I’m not sure,” I answer. “I’ll look at our game schedule and his game schedule and see if it works out. But I know Wes would be happy to come if his schedule allows it.” All of their faces light up.

He doesn’t taste like beer anymore, but toothpaste. There’s no way either of us can blame this on alcohol tomorrow. His tongue is in my mouth and I take greedy pulls on it, loving every second of it.

don’t want to fuck with your head.” he whispers. “I wish I hadn’t ever done that.” But it’s not my head that needs fucking. “Come over here,” I say. “Please.” “No fucking way.” he replies “I can make you.” He laughs. “Did you smoke some pot while I was our, Canning?” I laugh too, and it’s such a relief. Because it means I haven’t wrecked everything. But I lift my hips, peel off my briefs, and throw them at his head. He bats them away, smiling in the dark. Kicking the sheet off, I put my hand on my dick. And he stops laughing.

By the power vested in me by the State of California,” the minister announces with a smile, “I hereby declare you legally married. You may kiss your husband now.” Wes lunges forward and wraps Jamie in the tightest hug I’ve ever seen, like he’s needed to do that for hours. My brother pats his back and turns his head to kiss him, and everybody cheers.

I, Ryan,” his husky voice repeats, “take you, James, to be my friend and husband.” “To be yours in times of plenty and in times of want.” “To be yours in times of plenty…” He clears his throat, and his cheeks pink up. “And in times of want.” “In times of sickness and in times of perfect health…” Wes repeats each line slowly, though his voice becomes a little rougher each time. “I promise to cherish and respect you…” His eyes are wet now, and I clutch my flowers a little more tightly. Come on, sweetie, I silently encourage him. You’re almost there. I feel Jamie lean forward a degree or two, squeezing Wes’s hand. “To care for and protect you,” he gets out. Then one fat tear launches itself from his eye and down his rugged cheek. My heart breaks into little tiny splinters. Maybe I didn’t enjoy planning this wedding, but I’m sure as hell happy to be part of it now. “And stay by your side, forever,” Wes finishes eventually.

There’s a tear running down my face and I don’t even care. I scoop Jamie’s hand off his knee and kiss it. He feels so fucking good. “Sorry,” I choke out. “We’re going to have to work something out. I love you, goddamn it.

His eyes slit open, searching my face as his tongue comes out to lick his bottom lip. “If you stop right now, I’m going to kick your ass.” Stop? Is that a word? What does it mean? Probably the opposite of what I’m doing when I slide my hand between our bodies and grasp both our cocks in my hand.

Wes’s hot mouth is taking deep pulls on my dick. Pleasure darts from my shaft to my balls. I tangle my hands in his messy hair and thrust deeper into his mouth, floored by the eagerness, the passion, he’s giving to this blowjob. He licks and sucks and nibbles every inch of me, and I groan when he pops his finger into his mouth before dragging it down the crease of my ass.

Fuck, I’m yet again jealous of his shirt. I want to be the one plastered to his chest, and the ache I feel for him brings a spark of guilt. We’re good now. We’re friends again. So why can’t my traitorous body just be cool with it? Why can’t I look at him without imagining all the dirty, dirty things I want to do to him?

Which is why it terrifies me that I’m becoming so attached to Canning. Says the guy who’s already stupidly, disgustingly in love with him… I am, and always have been. I love everything about him. His quiet strength, his dry humor, his carefree approach to life that contrasts with his controlled manner on the ice. That sexy-as-sin body…

Again, he let me off the hook. But I didn’t want to be let off. I wanted to get off. The longer we sat there discussing sex, the more certain I was. Touching my best friend was all I could think about. It wasn’t a dare for me, either. It was pure desire.

Fuck, he’d looked good. Really good. All golden-boy California hotness, big and blond and sexy as fuck. With those soulful brown eyes—surprising on a blond guy. It’s an understated sexiness, though. Jamie Canning never flaunted his looks in all the time I’d known him. Sometimes I think he’s not even aware of how goddamn attractive he is.

I, on the other hand, do. I have the same damn weakness I’ve always had. It’s still there as I stare up at the big screen. As I watch Jamie Canning stop another dizzying slap shot. As I admire the grace and deadly precision with which he moves. My weakness is him.

Wes growls when I come in his mouth, but he doesn’t stop sucking until I’m limp and mindless. As the aftershocks of the orgasm continue to flutter through my sated body, I vaguely register that he’s beside me now. Kissing my neck. Stroking my abs. Nuzzling my beard with his cheek. “Fucking love this beard,” he whispers. “Fucking love you,” I whisper back.

My climax takes me by surprise. One second I’m fighting Wes over whose tongue belongs in whose mouth. The next, I’m fighting the urge to explode. And losing. “Fuck. I have to come.” Wes moans into my mouth, and I jam myself down on him one more time. That’s when I feel it—the whole-body orgasm. My limbs tingle unpredictably as I slump forward, my face landing in Wes’s neck. The world goes fuzzy at the edges, but I feel myself shooting all over him while he bucks beneath me.

He gives me another funny look. “You think I’m doing better because you left? That’s nuts, Coach. You know what happened when you got sick?” It’s my turn to wrinkle my forehead. “We were all really worried,” he mumbles, staring down at his skates. “And I was like, crap, I gotta get my shit together because Coach Canning does not need one more thing to worry about. You know, us losing all the time.” He flushes again. “I thought if we were winning, maybe you’d get better faster.

He moves further onto the bed, making room for me. Then he beckons. And there isn’t enough money, fame or fortune in the world to keep me from obeying. I’m on that bed a second later. His arms reach for me, pull me in. We’re side by side, chest to chest. And Jamie Canning is kissing me again.

But there we are, two dozen grins stained red from the wine, waving at the camera like idiots. Blake is in the back row, his napkin tied around his head like a bandana. I have a hand on Jamie’s shoulder right in the center of the shot. His smile is just as relaxed and genuine as the day I met him. And I look…centered. It’s not a word I’ve ever used to describe myself before. But everything I ever wanted is in that photo—the man of my dreams, and my teammates. I’ve left my smug smile behind in favor of one that’s so shiny I hardly recognize myself. But it’s me up there for sure. It’s us. And it’s perfect.

I told Luke that most of me wants to hook up with him again. That’s not the case anymore. All of me wants it. Right here, right now—I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, more. Goodbye, sexual confusion. Because confused is the last thing I’m feeling at the moment. There’s no other way around it—I like dudes.

The way I handle him is nothing like the way I’d touch a woman. He’s as big and strong as I am, and I don’t have to worry about hurting him. His broad shoulders make a sturdy place to put my hands. Rising up, I wait for him. He positions himself beneath me, and we both hiss when I slide down over his hard cock.

I don’t want to fuck with your head.” he whispers. “I wish I hadn’t ever done that.” But it’s not my head that needs fucking. “Come over here,” I say. “Please.” “No fucking way.” he replies “I can make you.” He laughs. “Did you smoke some pie while I was our, Canning?” I laugh too, and it’s such a relief. Because it means I haven’t wrecked everything. But I lift my hips, peel off my briefs, and throw them at his head. He bats them away, smiling in the dark. Kicking the sheet off, I put my hand on my dick. And he stops laughing.

I…” He clears his throat. “I’d let you do it, though.” My hand freezes in his hair. “You would?” Wes nods. “I’d let you do anything to me, Canning.” When his voice cracks, something inside of me does, too. I have no clue what’s going on here or what we are to each other. Friends. We’re friends. Except that doesn’t feel like the right label. Friends with benefits? Doesn’t feel right, either.

I don’t want to fuck with your head.” he whispers. “I wish I hadn’t ever done that.” But it’s not my head that needs fucking. “Come over here,” I say. “Please.” “No fucking way.” he replies “I can make you.” He laughs. “Did you smoke some pot while I was out, Canning?” I laugh too, and it’s such a relief. Because it means I haven’t wrecked everything. But I lift my hips, peel off my briefs, and throw them at his head. He bats them away, smiling in the dark. Kicking the sheet off, I put my hand on my dick. And he stops laughing.

Keep doing that. Please…don’t stop…” This guy is under the impression that stopping is even an option. I would, of course, if he asked me to, but as long as he’s begging for my mouth? For my finger? Nothing short of dying will stop me from giving it to him. I’ll give him every fucking part of myself, serve it to him like a feast at a banquet. Jamie Canning has no idea the kind of power he has over me.

For a moment I don’t move. We’re nose to nose, blinking into each other’s eyes. Wes’s tongue emerges to slick my lower lip. And I dive onto his mouth, jamming my tongue inside. There isn’t a lot of space for me to move, but it doesn’t matter. I’m riding him in short, fast strokes. The angle is heaven—I can bear down on him just where I need him. Wes is cupping my ass in strong hands, and with each thrust, he lets out a sexy grunt. Our chests rub together as our mouths lock again. My dick is trapped between our stomachs, slicking us both with pre-come.

He positions himself beneath me. Right then, with those brown eyes looking up, full of lust for me, he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. So I do it. I sink down onto his dick. Jamie’s mouth opens on a silent groan, and those beautiful eyes go half-mast. The burn returns, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I give myself a minute to adjust, and I use the time to take Jamie’s gorgeous face in my hands. For a second I just admire the view. He’s flushed and sex-tousled, burning up with arousal. I came to Lake Placid hoping we could still be friends. I got much more than that. And I’m so grateful.

Jamie - “Shame the Bruins got punished by the Ducks last month.” I see the flash of arrogance return at lightning speed. Wes - “That was a fluke. And a terrible call in the third. Your wing tripped over his own duck feet.” Jamie - “With a little help from your D-man.” Wes - “Oh fuck that. Twenty bucks says the Ducks don’t make it past the first round this year.” Jamie - “Twenty is all you’re willing to bet? Sounds like you’re afraid. Twenty and a YouTube video proclaiming my greatness.” Wes - “ Done, but when you lose, you make that video in a Bruins T-shirt.” Jamie - “Sure.” I shrug. And just like that, the night gets easier.

I almost lose my mind when his tongue touches me. Every inch of me is hot, tight, prickling with need. He licks a slow circle around my tip, then kisses his way down my shaft. He’s kissing my dick, light, open-mouthed caresses that blow my fucking mind. Holy shit. Jamie Canning is a cocktease. Who woulda thought? “You trying to drive me crazy?” I growl after he kisses another path up my cock. His chuckle vibrates through me. “Is it working?” “Yes.” I slide both hands through his hair, cupping his head. “What about you? Enjoying your first taste of dude?

At the teasing penetration, my hips jerk upward. Wes chuckles and eases his finger deeper, until the pad of it is stroking my prostate. My entire body trembles. Tingles. Burns. He spends a maddeningly long time torturing me with his mouth and finger—no, fingers. He’s got two inside me now, rubbing that sensitive place and bringing white dots to my eyes. “Wes,” I murmur. He raises his head. His gray eyes are smoky with desire. “Hmmm?” he says lazily. “Stop fucking teasing me and start fucking fucking me,” I rasp. “Fucking fucking you? Did you really need two fuckings?” “One’s an adverb and one’s a verb.” My voice is as tight as every muscle in my body. I’m about to go up in flames if he doesn’t make me come. His laughter warms my thigh. “I love the English language, dude. It’s so creative.” “Are we really having this conversation right now?” I growl when his teeth sink into my inner thigh. His fingers are still lodged inside me, but no longer moving.