16. Camden
Camden
I thought I heard my phone, but opted to stay under the covers where it was warm and snuggly.
I could call whoever it was back when my arms weren’t wrapped around Luke.
Last night’s post-sex slice of pizza had almost been as good as Luke’s pounding, but there was something highly erotic about being in public knowing the only thing keeping your boyfriend’s semen from staining the seat of your very flimsy athletic shorts was a well-muscled sphincter.
I thought back to yesterday and the feeling of elation when Noah and Woodward practically tackled me to the floor in the locker room after Cassie announced the final scores.
Somehow, I had led the team to our best Olympic qualifications ever.
We were seeded first in the team final and all of us had made an event final.
On the walk back to the hotel last night, Grant had texted the group chat a link to an article about me entitled, Camden Kane: King of the Arena.
It went on to assume a lot about what was driving me to win - the desire to make Luke proud, especially in light of his injury.
It went so far as to say I was ‘back with a vendetta’.
I wasn’t so sure about that, but the other guys got a kick out of teasing me.
I’d have to thank Colton and Zeph for letting Ty crash in their suite last night.
I’d wager a guess that Ty didn’t tell Declan that was happening.
Declan got possessive of Ty whenever Zeph was around.
It was part of their alpha male charm I’m sure Colton and Ty had fallen in love with.
I could take or leave the chest beating and measuring tape, but they were our friends.
Luke and I loved them, macho faults and all.
I heard my phone a third time and my thoughts couldn’t distract me from answering anymore.
“You gonna get that?” Luke asked, startling me. I didn’t know he was awake.
“So-sorry, tiger.” I kissed the top of his curly head and leaned over to the bedside table. With my fingers stretched, I was just able to slide the phone into my grasp. I cleared my throat as I answered, “Hello?”
“Finally.”
It was Coach. My heart rate picked up. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just need you to come in for a team meeting ASAP. I’ll explain when you get here.”
“O-okay?”
“Cassandra already uploaded the information to your app. Can you be at the village in twenty? Ezra said you didn’t stay here last night. I’m not that surprised and I don’t need to know. Just get here as soon as you can, and wish Luke a good morning for me.”
He hung up without saying goodbye.
Luke asked who it was, though his voice was muffled because his head was almost under my body and his face was half smooshed into the pillow.
“Coach,” I answered. “I gotta go. He sounded weird, Luke.”
“Everything alright?” Luke asked, propping himself against the headboard.
I smiled, knowing this right here was one of the reasons we had a solid relationship. We both read people the same way, and we both cared when that reading was abnormal.
“Some random meeting just popped up and he needs me there in twenty minutes. I’ll let you know as soon as I know what’s up,” I said, hopping on one foot, trying to get the other through the leg hole of a pair of Luke’s briefs. I caught him watching me. “Mind if I borrow a pair?”
“Mi ropa es tú ropa. Don’t let me stop you,” he teased, holding his hands up. “My lucky jock already brought you into the finals. I’m not sure we should wash it now.”
“It’s disgusting. We’re washing it. Does ropa mean briefs?” I asked.
“Almost,” he answered. “It means clothes. You want some of my pants too? It looks a little chilly out there today.”
He wasn’t lying. While light was coming through the windows, it was muted by a haze of fog. I pulled on a pair of his pants, grabbed one of his hoodies, and walked over to him for a goodbye kiss.
“Hey, what am I supposed to wear today?”
Fuck. He was giving his best pouty face. Do not engage. Keep your dick in your pants.
“I believe in you. We were almost late for our flights because of your compulsive need to have an outfit for everything. You’ll manage.”
“Text me when you get to the village!” Luke called out as I headed out the door.
The app took me to a smaller building surrounded by larger dormitories. Once inside, it was clear it was an administrative building.
Makes sense for a meeting.
I smiled at my knack for the obvious and consulted the directory in the lobby. I made for the hallway on the right, but as soon as I knocked on the door and entered Room 102, I knew it wasn’t a meeting and something was very wrong.
Woodward was seated at a table, flanked by five very official-looking…officials? My brain was short-circuiting, but I recognized one of them, at least, the woman.
“Thanks for coming in, Camden. Have a seat.”
“Am I off the team? Did I do something wrong?” I slid into the chair closest to the door, which I heard softly close behind me. I swallowed, trying to get rid of the awful feeling I had. My throat had become a desert in seconds, my hands were clammy, and my armpits damp.
“These gentlemen to my left are representatives from the IOC and WADA-”, Coach said.
Fuck, that’s the World Anti-Doping Agency.
The room instantly felt ten degrees warmer. I wanted to take the hoodie off, but I was waiting for the ball to drop.
“-and you already know Georgina Madsen, the president-”
“-of USA Gymnastics, yes. Nice to see you again, ma’am.” I know I just said that, but I couldn’t possibly imagine how. She was at the Olympic trials in June. She did not look happy.
“I wish I could say the same, Mr. Kane. That is to say, it’s good to see you, but I’d prefer the circumstances were entirely different.” I could hear the sneer in her voice.
Coach continued, “For reasons that will be explained to you and the team shortly, you are required to accompany these gentlemen”—he gestured to the last two people at the table—“to the bathroom. A urine sample will be collected and a hair sample as well.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but Coach cut me off. “Your teammates have already complied, Camden. This is non-negotiable. Noah is waiting with the rest of the team. Once your samples are taken, Georgina and I will meet with everyone. I’ll, uh, also need your phone until the meeting.”
“No blood?” I almost laughed at the ludicrosity of my question, but here I was.
“Not at this time,” the man from WADA answered.
They all pushed back from the table, each chair screeched, adding to an already awkward situation, so I stood as well and left my phone on the table.
“Mr. Kane, if you’ll follow me.”
I briefly glanced at Woodward, who offered a sympathetic half-smile, and followed the burly, bearded guy in the tight navy polo out a door at the other end of the room. His shorter partner, dressed in the same manner, fell into step behind me, carrying a large duffel bag.
We walked down a narrow hallway lined with opaque floor-to-ceiling glass walls. With doors every twelve feet or so, I assumed they were offices, though they looked vacant at the moment. We went through the door at the end of that hall into…a locker room.
The burly guy introduced himself as Michael and his partner as Trevor, then said, “You should be fairly familiar with the process as a three-time Olympian, but first, Trevor is going to pat you down. All our collection materials are in here and won’t be opened until both of us are in the same room, with the exception of the original sample cup, which Trevor will give to you in the bathroom. Understood?”
I nodded.
Trevor added, “Do you need some water? Or do you think you’ll be able to go?”
“I’ll try some water.”
He handed me a bottle from his shoulder bag and then paranoia set in.
“Actually, I’m fine for now. I’ll give it a shot without.” I set the bottle down on the bench.
“Okay, Mr. Kane-”
“You can call me Cam.”
The rosiest of tints creeped into Trevor’s cheeks and for a second, I felt an ounce of normalcy. “We’re supposed to keep it professional, Mr. Kane. Can you remove your hoodie for the pat down, please?”
“I’m not wearing anything underneath it.”
“Oh.” Trevor seemed unsure what to do.
“That’s fine, Mr. Kane.” Michael turned around from getting his equipment settled. “It’ll be easier if you take it off.”
I let out a deep breath and stripped it off. The sooner this was over, the better.
“Are the baggy sweatpants a problem?”
Trevor shook his head. “Shouldn’t be, but I’m going to start if that’s okay.”
Michael pulled out his phone to take a call and walked a few feet away.
“This is your rodeo, not mine. Just tell me what to do.”
Trevor started with my front, giving me a once-over. “Hold your arms up.” Then he circled around me and knelt. “I’m just going to check your ankles, like, your socks and shoes and stuff.”
“Okay.”
I felt him pull up my sweatpants and run his finger around the sock on each leg. It didn’t tickle, but it still felt weird as shit. Like you’re being examined.
I sighed again, glancing down at my crotch. At least he was behaving…for now.
“I’m going to check each leg now, Mr. Kane.”
I felt his hands grab my right ankle and work themselves up to my thigh, where he stopped and-
“Sorry, that’s my phone and wallet,” I said, placing them on the bench next to us.
He shifted to my right side and started from the bottom again, but his hands were focused on the front and inside of the leg this time.
Hello!
And he went there. I was pretty much being felt up now. His hand completely grazed my balls and his other went right between my thighs, pretty much up my ass.
“Sorry, Mr. Kane. I know this is awkward, but I have to be thorough.”
“I could just strip,” I suggested, my dick was hardening and out of my control at this point. It was coming dangerously close to pushing out of the leghole of Luke’s soft and skimpy briefs.
“One of the others already did that.” Trevor let out a little laugh.
“Seriously?! I was just joking.”
“I thought he was too. Michael says it happens more than you’d think.”
“Is this your first time?”