Chapter 33
Vox
It’s been two weeks since the rest of the team returned from break.
Connor and I are settling into the secrecy of our relationship, but it’s growing harder to keep my distance when others are around.
Especially because we’ve seen each other less.
Between Renner and the others wanting to hang out after practice and the Winter Classic looming ever closer, finding alone time has been a challenge.
Finding alone time where we both have energy to do more than eat or sleep, even more so.
Connor is too timid to spend the night or allow me to stay with him. And I get it.
It’s a major balancing act, and because of that, it’s been almost a week since we’ve been alone together. Six whole days since I’ve kissed him or held him against me, and I’m going crazy.
Today, the weather is total shit, so I find myself in the gym.
Of course, I know Connor is here too, but so is most of the team.
It’s hell trying to keep my eyes to myself when Connor’s T-shirt is straining against his back muscles and sweat—that I want to lick from his skin—is dripping onto the floor.
“Shit, he makes me feel like a gigantic pussy,” Renner says as he adjusts the weights on his bar, adding ten pounds to each side.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I say, unable to pull my eyes away from our coach.
Connor is currently doing strict presses overhead with a seventy-pound dumbbell in each hand. When the weights meet overhead, the muscles in his back and shoulders light up, and his T-shirt reveals a thin strip of skin I want to trace with my fucking tongue and nip with my teeth.
When Connor stands up and reracks his dumbbells, he catches my eye and nods his head in acknowledgement, but gives no sign that he’s affected by my presence the way I am by his.
And that simply won’t do.
Especially because there are two women in the corner who have been doing their absolute best to catch his attention since I arrived, and one of them is now approaching him.
I start to make my way toward Connor, desperately wanting to set the record straight, when I hear Renner call my name.
“Vox!”
Looking back toward the bench, I find Renner struggling to get his weight up.
Shit.
I hop back behind the bench and try to encourage him.
I’d totally spaced, but I’m pretty sure he said he was trying for a max.
I’m usually a pretty good spotter, but it’s been so fucking long since I had Connor to myself, and my brain is starting to do that shitty thing where it convinces me that I’ve made up everything that’s happened between us.
That Connor doesn’t think this is worth the risk anymore.
That he’s intentionally putting distance between us again despite promising me he wouldn’t.
“I’m here, man. Keep pushing,” I coach. “Drive your back into the bench, really squeeze your pecs. Come on, Ren. You’ve got this.”
After an agonizing amount of time under tension, Renner manages to hit his new max without me touching the bar.
Elated, he jumps from the bench and slaps me on the chest, practically jumping into my arms.
“Hell yeah! We’re on fire today! Your turn!” he says to me. I’m about to decline, but when I look up, it seems I finally have Connor’s attention.
“Yeah, sure. What the hell?” I pull some weight off and do a few warm-up reps. The weight feels heavier than it should, but slowly I climb to a respectable number. Renner reaches under the bar and double-taps my chest with both hands.
“Attaboy, Voxy,” he says as I rerack the barbell, resting for my next attempt at a higher weight, which will be a max for me at two-hundred-and-fifteen pounds.
As soon as I lift the weight off the J-hooks, I’m pretty sure I’m going to fail this rep—how embarrassing.
I try to control it to my chest so I don’t crush myself and commit to giving it my best attempt at getting it back up, so at least I don’t walk away thinking I had more in the tank.
As soon as I start to struggle, Renner moves out of my line of sight, and suddenly, Connor’s face is hovering over me.
“Don’t you dare give up on that weight, Vox. You think your competition would fail that weight? Fuck, no. Now push that goddamn barbell up like you want to win.”
I gotta hand it to him, Connor knows how to effectively motivate me. Digging deep, I grunt, strain, and probably pop every blood vessel in my eyes until my elbows are locked out above me, and Connor helps guide my bar back into the J-hooks on the rack.
I sit up, but quickly drive the heels of my hands into my eyes. I’m dizzy from holding my breath as I fought the weight. Before opening them, I feel a hand clap my shoulder, and a familiar voice is next to my ear.
“Proud of you.”
By the time the stars are gone from my vision, Renner is with Gibson and Trent doing cardio, and Tasha and Angel are adjusting the weights on the barbell behind me.
“Oh, my bad. Let me get out of your way,” I tell the girls as I move off the bench.
My eyes scan the gym for Connor, but come up empty.
Another glance at Renner and the guys tells me they’re getting settled into their run, and I have a little bit of time before they call it quits.
I make my way toward them and let them know I’m going to end today’s session on the high note of my new max and head for the locker room.
Once I’m inside, I hear a shower running, and as I approach, I recognize the Patterson Performance pullover hanging on the hook outside the shower curtain.
I also recognize the familiar pile of clothes in the chair next to the stall.
Quietly, I strip out of my workout shorts and tank top and place them on the chair underneath his belongings.
Peering around the corner of the shower curtain, I see that Connor has his back to me.
I say a quick prayer that he doesn’t punch me in the face as I step in behind him and snake my arms around his waist.
He tries to spin around, but I tighten my hold.
“Relax, it’s just me,” I whisper.
“What the hell are you doing, Vox? Get out of here!” Connor hisses.
“I’m making sure you remember who you belong to,” I tell him, pressing kisses to his spine.
“And you left before I could thank you for the help on the bench.” I wrap my hand around his dick, happy to discover it’s slick with soap.
My other hand encircles his throat, and he leans his head back against my shoulder.
“This is such a bad idea,” he murmurs, growing hard in my hand. He’s spoken the words before, but that never stops him from following through.
“It’s been six fucking days, Connor. I’m dying,” I admit, rolling my hips into his decadent ass.
“I know. Trust me, I know. But we have to be smart, Vox, and this isn’t smart,” he says even as he pumps his hips into my fist.
“Then tell me when we can be alone.” I lightly bite his neck and shoulder while increasing the pressure at his throat, making him groan. Suddenly, we hear the door to the locker room open, and we both freeze.
Connor points toward the opening under the curtain. It’s not big, but it would be easy to tell there are two people in here because our feet are visible.
“Hop in my arms,” he whispers.
“What?”
“You heard me. Do it.”
I know Connor can support my weight, but this shower isn’t that big. Nonetheless, footsteps are growing closer, and I’m running out of time, so I plant my hands on Connor’s shoulders and jump, wrapping my legs around his hips.
He leans forward, pressing my back into the wall to help support some of my weight. His fingers are laced together under my ass, and our dicks are currently pressed against each other.
I hold my left index finger up to my mouth, telling him to be quiet.
He nods, but his eyes widen when I reach between us, grabbing both our dicks in my hand.
Connor mouths, “Vox, NO!” but it’s too late. It feels too damn good, and I miss him too fucking much.
The feel of his velvety cock against mine while the hot water rains down on us, our senses heightened from potentially being caught, and simply being with Connor like this again has me ready to spill faster than ever.
I bury my face in his neck as I roll my hips, trusting him to hold me.
“I’m gonna come,” I whisper a split second before I do. To prevent myself from crying out, I bite his neck.
Connor’s orgasm hits him a moment later. I feel his body quake, and suddenly, there’s more liquid coating our cocks. He returns the favor by biting my shoulder hard enough to break the skin, and I fucking love it.
“I have to set you down now,” Connor whispers as he kisses me.
I nod and carefully plant my feet in the far corner of the shower stall.
Neither of us has any idea if the intruder came and went or if they remain in the locker room.
“I’ll go first,” Connor says. “Where are your clothes?”
“Under yours,” I tell him.
He nods and turns to check that the coast is clear before reaching for his towel, but I catch his forearm and pull him back to me. He slams into my chest with a grunt.
“You didn’t tell me when I can see you. That orgasm didn’t even take the edge off, Connor. Look.” I point toward my re-inflating cock. “This has been my permanent state for six days, baby. I need you.”
“My place. Tonight. Seven-thirty. I’ll make dinner.”
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and cup his ass, squeezing hard before trailing my fingers along his crack.
“Fuck dinner. I’m eating you.”
I lean in, intending to kiss him goodbye—until tonight—but it quickly devolves into something wetter, hotter, needier. I want to spin him around, bend him over, and eat his fucking ass right here, but sensing my plans, Connor pulls back.
“Hey, we can’t do this here. I’ll see you and Ren at the simulator in a couple hours. We just have to make it through that, and then it’s you and me and a door that locks, okay?”
A frustrated growl rumbles in my chest. “Fine.”
I get myself off one more time before shutting off the shower. Realizing I don’t have a towel, I prepare myself to get dressed and have the coldest fucking walk home imaginable, but hanging outside the stall is Connor’s lightly damp, but perfectly suitable towel.
Rubbing it across my body, and knowing it was just on his, makes my cock throb with the unquenchable spirit of the champion he is.
Seven-thirty can’t come soon enough.