Chapter 20 #2
The chartered Gulfstream G650 cut smoothly through the dark sky, its engines a low, constant purr that lulled most of the cabin into silence.
The plane was small enough for privacy, and Jacob wasn’t complaining. Cream leather seats in a 1-1 configuration down the back, fold-out tables between pairs, soft blue mood lighting along the ceiling. No overhead bins crammed with carry-ons, no flight attendants pushing carts.
Just the squad, their staff, and the quiet satisfaction of a road win.
It made a big change from the rare occasions that Jacob flew as a kid. Then it was very much a case of economy class. Jacob appreciated the position he found himself in now. But there were more benefits to this style of luxury flight, the kind that went beyond freshly prepped food and comfy seats…
In the very last row, Tane and Jacob sat side by side.
Tane had claimed the window seat out of habit, though the shade was already drawn against the night.
He’d lowered the narrow console between them, spread a thin gray team blanket across both laps, and now pretended to study iPad footage of the game: muted clips looping Jacob’s goal, Alex’s perfect feed, the red light flashing.
Tane’s free hand rested on Jacob’s thigh beneath the blanket, thumb moving in slow, absent circles.
The rest of the plane was asleep or close to it.
Connor snored across the aisle, head lolled back, mouth open.
Alex wore noise-canceling headphones, eyes closed, probably lost in one of his Italian opera playlists.
Ricki, two rows ahead, had his Switch screen glowing faintly against his face. He’d already texted Jacob a sleepy thumbs-up about the goal. The coaches were up front, murmuring low, so deep into tactics and future plans that not even a nearby UFO could have distracted them.
Everyone else had hoods up or necks cricked against windows, defeated by adrenaline crash and the three-hour flight home.
But Jacob couldn’t settle.
The win still thrummed under his skin… sharp, electric, alive.
His headache from the morning was a distant memory, replaced by the floaty high of stealing one in enemy territory.
And Tane was right there with him: warm, solid, smelling faintly of post-game sweat and the cedarwood cologne he always wore on the road.
Jacob shifted closer until their shoulders touched, then let his hand slip under the blanket.
Before he knew it, his fingers found the soft waistband of Tane’s gray sweatpants first. The drawstring was already loose.
Jacob dipped beneath the elastic, tracing the sharp cut of Tane’s hipbone, feeling the heat of skin.
Tane didn’t react outwardly—just kept his eyes on the screen, jaw tight, the smallest flex in his thigh the only sign he’d noticed.
Jacob went lower.
A smile came over Jacob’s face but he made sure to stay as restrained as he could, outwardly at least…
The back of his knuckles brushed the thick outline of Tane’s cock through his boxer briefs.
Tane was already half-hard, probably had been since the locker room when Jacob peeled off his gear and caught that long, hungry stare.
Jacob curled his fingers around him… gentle, exploratory, feeling Tane thicken and lengthen almost at once.
Tane’s gaze flicked sideways.
The look was pure captain: brows lowered, mouth a flat line, the kind of stare that usually meant twenty push-ups or a benching threat.
Jacob froze. His hand still wrapped around Tane’s meat, his pulse loud in his ears.
Tane held the stare for a long heartbeat, long enough that Jacob started to withdraw, cheeks heating under the dim light.
Then, very quietly, voice pitched so only Jacob could hear it over the engines:
“I didn’t tell you to stop,” Tane said, his eyes alive to the moment.
A soft, startled giggle escaped Jacob before he could swallow it, high and giddy and a little reckless. He ducked his head against Tane’s shoulder for a second to muffle it, then slid his hand back down.
This time there was no hesitation.
Jacob worked his Captain slow and deliberate, thumb circling the head through the cotton on every upstroke, feeling the fabric grow damp. Tane’s breathing deepened, still controlled but with tiny hitches when Jacob squeezed just right.
The hand on Jacob’s thigh tightened, fingers digging in like a silent warning, yet Tane made no move to stop him.
Under the blanket, Jacob adjusted his angle for better leverage. His own cock was hard now, pressed uncomfortably against his joggers, but this wasn’t about him.
Tonight was gratitude—and a quiet, filthy, secret.
Tane tilted his head back against the seat, eyes half-shut, still pretending to watch the replay. But Jacob felt every twitch, every throb. When he dragged his thumbnail lightly along the underside, Tane let out the softest grunt. It was barely audible, swallowed by the cabin hum, but Jacob knew.
Jacob grinned into Tane’s neck. “Ssshhh, Captain,” Jacob whispered. “People are sleeping.”
Tane shot him another look—half murder, half helpless affection—then closed his eyes and let his head fall fully back.
His hips rocked once, small and involuntary, chasing the rhythm of Jacob’s hand.
Jacob twisted on the next upstroke, slick now from how much Tane was leaking, and felt him swell thicker still.
Tane was silent, rigid, every muscle locked as hot pulses spilled over Jacob’s fingers and soaked into the fabric. Jacob stroked him through it until the end, slow and careful, until Tane finally exhaled, long and shaky, and went lax against the seat.
For a minute they simply breathed together.
Tane’s hand found Jacob’s under the blanket, lacing their fingers—sticky, warm, unapologetic.
Then Tane leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Jacob’s ear.
“When we land,” Tane murmured, voice rough, “You’re getting yours. And you’re gonna be loud enough the neighbors file a complaint.”
Jacob shivered, a fresh wave of heat rolling through him. “Promise?”
“Boy,” Tane said, squeezing his hand once, hard. “That’s a fucking guarantee.”
Jacob settled against him, head dropping to Tane’s shoulder, the blanket still hiding the mess they’d made. The plane began its gentle descent; city lights flickered into view below like scattered stars.
They were going home 1-0.
And tomorrow morning, when the rest of the world was still asleep, Tane Rivers was going to make good on every word…