Jameson
Ican’t focus. It’s never been like this before. I can put everything else on the backburner when I’m out on the field. It may not be my whole life, but I’m damn good at football. And today, I can’t manage to pull my head out of my ass.
Because last night, Garrison Dixon was on his knees for me.
I don’t know what the hell I thought was going to happen last night, but that wasn’t it.
My brain wouldn’t even go there. To that big, larger-than-life goofball on his knees, his hand on my ass, and the other on my cock.
His mouth wrapping around my length as he took me between his lips over and over.
I know he doesn’t have any experience. It was sloppy and desperate, but still, the sheer desire, the need to make it feel good—I could feel it.
And it was the best damn blowjob of my life.
“Bates.” Shit. Coach. “What the hell is wrong with you today?”
“Sorry, Coach.” I apologize and jog back over to where I’m supposed to be, trying to get my head back in the game. Goddamn Dixon. Of course, he’s fucking with my head. And he’s playing great today.
The coach’s star player, without a care in the fucking world.
That’s so him.
That’s so frustrating.
“Hey.” Trav nudges me. “You okay?”
Of course, he’d also notice and be concerned. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? Because your eyes have been on Dixon during this entire practice.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“No, they haven’t.” I try denial. Seems like my best bet.
Travis just shakes his head at me, keeping his voice quiet and making sure we’re the only ones around. “Be careful. Please don’t fall for the straight jock.”
Definitely not straight. And definitely not my place to say anything.
“I’m not doing anything.”
He doesn’t believe me but heads off to run the next drill. After practice, it’s no surprise I’m the one designated to clean up the field. I played like shit, and Coach lets me know it.
When I get into the locker room and strip down, I’m horrified to find Dixon is the only one still there. He’s totally naked and dripping wet as he scrubs himself in the shower. Fuck again. Fuck.
I can totally do this. I’ve been showering with other guys since puberty and never had one problem, despite knowing I have an attraction to guys. It’s not like I’m attracted to every guy, and I don’t look because these are my teammates, and I don’t want to be attracted to them.
So I get into the shower, get clean, and get out. Just like they do.
But there’s one big problem. I can’t help staring right at it as I climb under the spray. I didn’t get to see his dick last night, but I felt it. And like the rest of Dixon, it’s huge. I try my best to ignore his naked form and turn my back to him.
“Your place or mine tonight, Batesy?”
“Not my name,” I growl and lather up, letting the warm water soothe my aching muscles, knowing when I get home, I have a couple of hours of hard labor in front of me.
“You’ll always be Batesy to me,” he flirts, and I hate that I almost smile. I can’t let him get to me. I can’t like Dixon.
Despite clearly liking his mouth wrapped around my cock, I don’t want to like him as a person.
I don’t want to . . . Shit. I don’t want to fall for him.
There’s no way that’s possible, but believe it or not, I don’t usually take sex or fooling around lightly.
I’ve had two girlfriends, and they were the ones I fooled around with exclusively.
I don’t usually just fuck around.
But then came Dixon, barreling into my life like the force he is, and I should be able to just have fun. To let it be what it is, but then he goes and makes me smile. I hate that. I hate that I don’t hate that.
Just like everything else with Garrison.
“You didn’t answer.”
“Not tonight.”
“Why not?” I sense him turning and looking back at me, but I don’t let myself do the same. “Fuck, you have a nice ass,” he groans, and that makes me spin around to look at him.
“Keep your voice down. Coach is still here,” I hiss.
The fucker only smiles, his eyes traveling down my body to my cock which starts to fill with his appraisal. “And a really nice dick.”
“Stop,” I say, turning around and rinsing off quickly as I turn the water off and wrap a towel around my waist, exiting the shower.
He follows, grabbing a towel, but he uses it to dry his hair, leaving his naked body on full display. And what a body. Jesus fuck. I can’t believe they make guys like Dixon in real life. He’s cut. Every single muscle is huge and defined. Solid.
He’s perfect.
I force myself to look away and head over to my locker. “It’s not something we’re going to do a lot.”
“Of course, we are.” He moves to his locker as he dries off, and then thankfully, pulls on a pair of pants but skips the underwear, which makes my brain short-circuit, and I want, more than anything, for him to wait for me like that the rest of the day before joining me in the barn.
“Dixon.” I sound resigned, and he knows he won.
“Tonight. The barn.”
I look back through the locker room and see Coach is in his office, but he’s on his phone and seems distracted. I look back at Dixon and nod. “Fine. Ten o’clock.”
He grins, pulling his shirt on over his sculpted body. “I can’t wait.”
Damn. Him.
I can’t either.