Chapter 15
Wes
I’m working with Mark Johnson, the quarterback, who broke his fibula and tibia during practice earlier in the season.
With my hand on his foot and his leg bent as he lies down, I have him push against me. My foot is behind me to add extra pressure on him and keep me from falling backward. He’s strong as hell, even with healing fractures.
“How does that feel, Mark?”
“Okay, I guess. It’s hard.”
“I know, but you’ll get your strength back soon enough.”
I time a five-minute break on my phone, and we’re back at it.
“Do you think I’ll get to play this year?”
“Sorry, champ. Don’t think so.”
He groans and stares at the ceiling. “Dammit. This is really going to fuck up my career. I want to go pro, but who wants a quarterback prone to injuries?”
“You never know. You still have one more season in you before you graduate.”
I look over at Don as I’m pushing back against Mark’s foot again. “Hey, can you grab me an exercise band?”
“What color?”
“Let’s do black. I think Mark can take it.”
Don returns with the band and hands it to me.
“How’s the aquatic therapy?” I ask Mark.
“Actually, it’s pretty good. It takes that pain and pressure off, but it’s not easy either.”
“The more you exercise, the faster you’ll recover,” I explain, handing him the band.
He nods, accepting it. “What do I do with this?”
“Several things, but you can replicate what I’m doing to you, but at home. You just put the band on the arch of your foot, pull back your leg, and push as hard as you can, stretching the band.”
We practice several times, and I show him some other things he can do at home.
When our hour is up, he shuffles home on his crutches.
I head back to my workstation and check my phone, finding a slew of messages from Jett. I smile and swipe it open.
Whiplash: Hey, I was wondering if you
want to come with me to my sister’s
place for Halloween this weekend.
Whiplash: It falls on a Saturday.
Whiplash: The kids dress up. It’s kind of
fun.
Whiplash: I do it every year.
Whiplash: You’re busy.
Whiplash: Maybe some other time.
Whiplash: Sorry. You probably have
other plans, huh?
Whiplash: Ignore me.
God, he’s adorable. I’ve gotten used to his back and forth. Sometimes he’s shy. Sometimes he’s bold and sexy.
I chuckle and shoot a text back.
Me: I’d love to.
Me: Sorry, I was with a patient.
He quickly responds.
Whiplash: Yeah?
Me: Sure, why not? I’d love to meet your
family.
Whiplash: Cool.
I shut off my phone and get ready for my next appointment.
Honestly, I’m stoked to be meeting Jett’s family.
What does that mean, anyway? Is this where we move from friends with benefits to something more solid?
I’ve been wanting something serious lately, but my visions never involved a tall, broad, broody, adorable runner who was…
is my hero. I could get on board with that and see where it goes.
The thought of something growing between us puts a smile on my face and a spring in my step. I’m really looking forward to it.
I’m sorting through my clothes in the community laundry room. It’s pretty late, and usually people don’t wash clothes this time of night. Competing for laundry units sucks. It’d be nice to have my own units, but the building is older, so no such luck. It’s why it’s more affordable, I guess.
When I hear the door open, I roll my eyes and inwardly groan. Dammit. Well, good thing I was here first.
“Wes?” The familiar baritone voice behind me goes straight to my nuts. Fuck, what is it about Jett that gets my body going?
I look over my shoulder and grin at him. “Yo, here to do laundry, too?” He holds up his basket and gives me a deadpanned look. “Sorry, I thought you were stalking me. I mean, I’m honored and all…”
“Dork.”
Before I can do or say anything else, he sets his basket down and fingers my T-shirt with a raised brow. “‘Orgasm Donor’?”
“What can I say? I’m a giver.”
His chuckle is low and rumbly. Hot.
Jett lets me go to sort through his clothes. I throw my whites in with detergent and bleach, take out a clean load from the dryer, and start folding them.
“How’s your week been so far?” I ask him.
He pulls out dark colors from his pile, thinking about it. “It’s cool. Good, even. I wasn’t sure how I’d like coaching, but, yeah, it’s… good.”
“I bet that wasn’t what you dreamed of doing, huh?”
I look at him as he shrugs and shoves his darks into a free washing machine.
“What were your plans after the Olympics? Did you have a big sponsor lined up?” It’s so hard to get him to open up.
I barely know anything about Jett. I mean, I can tell you all his stats and which races he won throughout his career, yet I can’t tell you anything personal about him.
I know he’s got family, but he barely talks about them.
If I’m going to meet them, it’d be nice if he opened up more.
Maybe he’s keeping me at arm’s length because we haven’t committed to each other yet. He could still have doubts about me, but those are things we can talk about, right?
When he says nothing, I turn around to find him just standing there, staring at the floor. “Sorry, I just thought—”
“Nike,” he blurts.
I’m not surprised. Someone of Jett’s caliber would have big-time companies fighting over the chance to endorse him. “Wow, that’s pretty fucking amazing. I guess it all fell through, huh?”
Jett steps up to me, kicks apart my legs, and slides between them.
“Yep, fucking amazing,” he rasps, kissing my throat.
A flash of disappointment hits me that he won’t answer my question and talk to me, but I willingly accept his attention.
My fingers graze along his sides as he sucks on my skin enough to leave a mark.
I crane my neck to the side to give him better access and close my eyes.
“I bet,” I pant, “they weren’t too happy with you, huh?”
He silences me with a kiss on my lips. His distraction works, especially when his hand cups my jaw with only enough pressure to control me. I fucking melt. I love it when he takes over and just dominates, allowing me to let go. It’s fucking addicting.
His tongue is forceful and owning. His free hand slides between my legs and presses against my cock. I instantly swell. I thrust forward, chasing his touch, moaning into his mouth.
“Want you,” he breathes when we come up for air.
“Mmm, we’re in a naughty mood. Lock the door.” What the hell is it with us and public places?
He releases me and flips the lock. In a fraction of a second, he’s back on me, devouring my mouth, and shoving his hand down my shorts.
“Definitely naughty…” I breathe.
“Stop talking,” he groans. “I wanna taste you.”
“Not gonna stop ya.”
Jett pulls away and slowly drops to his knees, taking my basketball shorts and underwear with him.
He curls those long-ass fingers around my length and tugs while keeping his eyes trained on me. They’re so wide and dark, filled with need. I want to get lost in them. My dick throbs in response, but so does my heart. I could watch him like this forever.
Forever.
Before I get lost in that word, I rest my hand on his head and curl my fingers into his hair with this sudden, possessive need for him. “Don’t stop looking at me like that.”
His gaze flickers. “Okay…”
“Ever.”
“Okay.”
I spread my legs slightly, and he swallows me down, almost to the root. As much as I want to close my eyes and just feel his hot, wet heat wrapped around me, I keep them locked on his face. I gently thrust into his mouth. He gags around me, sending waves of pressure and shudders through my body.
“Fuck, yeah… God, your mouth.”
Jett’s so fucking good at giving head. His noises, slurping, gagging… the heat. Already, my nuts are drawing up tight and heavy, my spine tingles, and my groin is filled with that familiar heaviness.
His eyes haven’t left mine for even a second. They’re watering, slowly blinking. So hot, like all that matters in this world is my pleasure.
As soon as Jett pops off, I slam my eyes closed. “Ugh… no. I was so close!”
His deep chuckle rumbles through me. To add insult to injury, he gently blows on my wet tip, sending arousing goosebumps throughout my body, while setting it on fire.
“Big tease…”
“You love it, Pretty Boy.”
He licks the underside of my dick, curling his tongue around the head, pulling a groan from me. My fingers dig tighter into his scalp, and I pull his head back. “Nuh-uh… open up.”
Jett’s eyes are back on me as he opens his mouth. I fist my cock and place it on his tongue. “Suck it.” Fuck, I love how he brings out my naughty side. Hell, I love that he can be that way, too.
I place my hands on either side of his head and pump into his mouth, careful not to choke him. I’m getting close again, and I need more. So much more.
“Touch me… touch me there. My ass.”
He grunts, and the vibrations have me nearly nutting. His fingers travel across my skin and around to my ass, where he slips them into the crease. With one finger, he prods and swirls the tip around my hole, and my body ignites from the inside.
“Oh, fuck…” That does it.
One touch, and I explode in his mouth. Jett pushes on my hole harder, sucking me faster, using that amazing tongue of his in all the right spots. It’s a sensation overload.
Once I’m spent, I lean back against the folding table, fingers clinging to the edge, my chest heaving as if I’d just run a marathon.
Jett rests his forehead against my thigh, panting, then pulls up my underwear and shorts. He hesitates, but before he stands, he lifts my T-shirt and presses little kisses on my stomach. His sweetness and affection surprise me, but I’ll take this version of him any day.
I lift him by his pits, cup his face with both hands, and kiss him, tasting myself on his tongue.
I reach for his jeans to undo them. “Your turn.”
He quickly grabs my wrists. “I think we shouldn’t risk it anymore. Don’t wanna get in trouble.”
I pretend to pout and walk my fingers up his chest. “Pretty please?”
He chuckles, then wraps his hand around my back and pulls me against him. “Back to laundry. I’ve got nothing to wear.”
“But you’re all hard against me. Besides, you can just walk around your place like a naked sex god.”
He chuckles and nuzzles my throat before nipping it. “Let’s get the laundry done first, then you can come up to my place. I swear, you’re the horniest guy I’ve ever known.”
“Pfft, speak for yourself. I don’t see you holding back.”
“I guess you set me on fire, Wes.” He averts his eyes the second the words leave his mouth.
“We can set each other on fire.”
An hour later, we’ve got our clothes clean and folded and are heading up to Jett’s condo. We fall onto his couch, and he stretches out, pulling me on top of him. Just when I think we’re going to fool around again, he yawns loudly and closes his eyes.
I rest my cheek on his shoulder and watch him doze off, my fingers playing gently in his hair. Meh, this is pretty damn nice. His body is warm and relaxed, like my own personal furnace. Soon, I grow heavy and my eyes close, too.
I could get used to this.