Chapter 34
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It’s pretty insane what a difference a week can make. Last Tuesday I woke up in my childhood bed, broken, alone, and with no hope for my future. Fast forward to today, waking up in my dorm room to Lincoln Beckett’s mouth on me.
With campus mostly empty, we’ve been able to ease into being back.
Beck seems surprisingly comfortable with allowing himself to be seen with me by the few people around to witness us together.
He even held my hand on the way to the fitness center today and didn’t get pissed off when I teased him about the boner he was getting while spotting me at the bench press.
“Oh my God, you two are disgustingly cute,” Caty says from the screen where Beck is video-chatting with her.
Beck adjusts the angle of his phone so we’re both in the frame.
I’m using his chest as a pillow, reading the files Caty emailed us with previous examples of harassment cases and Huntston University’s diversity initiative mission statements.
She’s not sure how much her mother is going to be willing or able to help us, but she did a lot of research over the break that we might be able to use.
“So are you two going out tonight? There’s a really amazing gay club not far from campus, you know. It’s a huge place, with different levels and types of music. There are several dance floors, a karaoke room, a kink room…”
“Kink room?” Beck repeats. “What the hell do they do in there?”
“I actually don’t know. But I would love if you two could go find out for me and report back.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Beck says, laughing.
I don’t particularly want to go out anywhere, even if it is New Year’s Eve, but I’d be lying if my stomach doesn’t drop a little at the way Beck immediately shuts the idea down.
It makes me worry about what it will be like when the dorm and gym are full of our classmates and teammates.
I meant what I said when I told him I have no expectations for him to come out fully, I only wanted him to acknowledge and accept himself and what was happening between us, and he passed with flying colors.
I don’t really love the prospect of hiding again, either.
He wouldn’t even sit next to me at the dining hall before, is that going to change now?
Is he going to go back to pretending to hate me again?
“Maybe we can all go together after the holiday break,” Beck clarifies, shocking me. “I’m not sure I’m up for a huge crowd right now. I’m kind of enjoying the quiet,” he says, looking down at me. “Unless you really want to.”
“No, I agree. I’m enjoying the bubble too much to leave.” I pull lightly on the chain hidden beneath Beck’s tank top. He bites his lip.
Caty makes a gagging sound. “Seriously, I can’t stand either of you. I’m going to go. Unlike you two lovebirds, I’m going out tonight.”
“Oh? Where to?” Beck asks absentmindedly, but all his attention is on the hand he’s trailing down my chest.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Mmhmm. Have fun.”
“I hate you!”
“Love you too, ‘kay bye…”
Beck’s phone clatters to the ground, and I end up pressed into the mattress as he climbs over me and settles his weight over my hips. My hand dips into the back of his pants, and I circle a finger around his rim.
“Are you sore?” I ask, because I fucked him in the shower less than an hour ago, but I desperately want to be inside him again.
He shakes his head and kisses me, grinding down on my cock.
All that separates us are two thin layers of cotton—the pajama pants he’s wearing, and the insanely soft fabric of the briefs he bought me in Charlotte.
They might be my favorite underwear, and I’m not ashamed to say that I would let him buy me more to be this comfortable.
Plus, the way he looks at my bulge makes me feel like fucking Superman.
I help Beck slip his tank top and his pants off. He stays above me, stripping me of my shirt, but only pushing my briefs down enough to free my cock before he’s slicking me up and sinking down on me.
“Oh, Fuck. Goddamn, Becky.”
Beck likes me to take control most of the time, and I love it. It’s definitely not a hardship. But I have to say, laying back and watching him ride my dick is probably going on my list of demands to be bossy about. Because damn.
“Jesus, you’re big,” he rasps, but doesn’t stop working himself up and down my shaft, using his big, powerful thighs to control the depth and pace, until he’s comfortable.
“You feel so good,” he moans, rolling his hips and writhing on me like some kind of porn star.
His head tips back, hands braced on my chest, and leisurely fucks himself on my cock.
I have to flex my abs to keep from coming, to keep this going for as long as possible.
It’s not just the way it feels, but the way he looks as he loses himself to his own pleasure, taking what he wants from me.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper. His eyes open to blink down at me, and our gazes lock in the most intense eye contact of my life. Beck moves his hips faster, lifting and dropping down on my cock, finding a rhythm that makes his mouth drop open. I raise my hips to meet him, and he cries out.
“Hold on, Becky.”
Gripping his hips, I thrust up with purpose.
Beck falls forward, bracing himself on the headboard.
Once he steadies himself, he pushes back with as much as I give.
The springs on the little bed protest, the headboard slams into the wall over and over again, and our bodies clap with just as much force.
Beck bounces on my lap and starts to chant, “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Brody, I’m going to—”
“Can you come like this?” I pant, nearing the point of no return. “Can you come hands free?”
He nods frantically and lets out a little whine. “I’m going to—"
Wrapping the chain around my fist, I pull Beck down to meet my mouth. “Come on my cock like the good girl you are, baby. Just like that.”
Beck sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out in a staccato blend of a wail and a moan, broken by the air my cock drives out of his lungs as he comes apart on top of me.
I keep my momentum going for as long as I can, fucking up into him until the last spurt of his cum has splashed across my chest. I thrust up into him once, twice, then a third time before wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him down, shuddering through my orgasm as I empty inside him.
We collapse in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs, damp sheets, and cum, struggling to catch our breaths.
“Fuck, I thought I was an athlete,” Beck says, heaving.
“That was… Goddamn, that was something else,” I say. I did maybe half the work, and I’m dizzy with it. Beck must feel like he ran a marathon.
I roll onto my side and rub his thighs that I know must be sore. “So what’s our story for when your thighs start beefing out?”
“Mmm, new exercise regimen. Not for the weak, that’s for sure,” he says, chuckling.
I get distracted by a smear of cum on the inside of his thighs and trace it up to his swollen hole. I massage it, too, pushing my cum back inside where it belongs, loving that he’s full of me. He’s been full of me every day since the hotel, when he asked me to come inside him the first time.
“It’s a good thing I can’t get pregnant,” Beck says with a snort.
“You sure about that?” I say, pulling my fingers out and looking at them glistening in the light.
“Pretty sure,” he laughs.
“Hmm, we’ll see about that,” I growl, pulling him in for a deep, filthy kiss.
“Happy New Year,” he whispers. “I love you.”
Two days later, we’re working out, doing squats and being honestly kind of gross about it, but there’s no one here to complain about us playing around while we get some conditioning in.
Or at least there isn’t at first. We’re doing a bastardized version of pull-ups, facing each other with Beck’s legs wrapped around my waist, kissing, licking, or nipping at each other's mouths whenever our faces meet above the bars.
I’m fucking giddy, completely at ease in our little bubble.
Then a deep voice makes me jump, almost cracking my jaw on the bar. Beck’s legs unwind from around me, and we both drop to the floor, bending over to put our hands on our knees.
“Jesus Christ, you two! This is a gym, not a breeding facility. Now I know I said boners happen, but this is not what I was talking about! Go take a cold shower and meet me in my office in five!” He steps away, and we’re both so stunned we don’t move right away. “Now!” Coach McCoy barks.
Three and a half minutes later, we’re giving each other scared, nervous looks as we speed-walk to Coach’s office.
We’re both still wet from basically dousing ourselves in cold water before getting dressed, although I don’t think either of us needed the cold water to calm down.
We were both just afraid to not do exactly what he told us.
Coach McCoy’s office door is open.
“Come in!”
Shit. We’re in trouble. I mean, I’m already in trouble, but I’m really fucked now. And worse, I’ve gotten Brody involved. So not only is he going to be punished, but he’s been outed, which isn’t what we wanted.
Coach is at his desk when we walk in, arms folded, expression like he’s smelled something foul. For a second I’m pretty sure I am the smell.
“Sit,” he says.
I drop into the chair in front of his desk. Beck sits beside me, spine straight, hands folded like he’s on trial. Which, to be fair, we kind of are.
“I’d ask if you two want to explain yourselves,” Coach starts, “but I’ve coached long enough to know there’s not a single explanation you could give me that I’d want rattling around in my head for the rest of my life.”
Heat crawls up my neck. I stare very hard at a scuff mark on the floor.
Beck clears his throat. “Sir, I—”
“Don’t,” Coach cuts in, lifting one hand. “I am choosing, for the longevity of my career and my overall mental health, to pretend I don’t know what you were doing on my pull-up rig. We will consider that portion of this conversation closed.”