Chapter 12 - Brooks
What Are You Doing To Me?
Adrenaline from the win tonight is still ripping through my veins. Watching Will throw a perfect game was nothing short of admirable. Fucking epic. Hot as hell. Seems our heart-to-heart earlier at the hotel brought us luck tonight.
I’m amped up, lust and desire taking over my body, moving like molten lava. My hand on Will’s thigh tightens, his gasp causing a twitch beneath my sweatpants.
My cock has been throbbing since the post-game shower.
Couldn’t help myself knowing his eyes were on me—wanting me.
His eyes always fucking on me. It’s not the fact that the tension between us is real, or that he’s a household name in the league and I’ve looked up to him since I owned my first mitt.
It’s this look he gives me. A look I’ve noticed that’s only for me. Molten, deadly midnight blue that pierces straight through me every damn time. It’s a look that ruins my resolve, makes me fucking hard, and straight up drives me crazy.
Ha. Looks like Sin makes me crazy, too.
He’s giving me the look right now. And I want to push him. Punish him for avoiding me. For denying that the kiss between us didn’t mean shit. Bull fucking shit, Sinclair.
The bus is dark, and most of our teammates are about to fall asleep or have headphones in. We’re not in the very last row, but far enough back where the majority of everyone is in front of us. With a covert glance over my shoulder, all I see are closed eyes and hoods up over heads.
Perfect.
Leaning in toward Will, I lightly brush my lips along the shell of his ear and whisper, “Do you want me to stop?”
The hand I have gripped around his muscular thigh drags higher ever so slowly, and I take my time feeling the sinew of muscles through the fabric of his sweatpants. So firm and tight, making me want to take my time to work out the kinks and get him to relax.
But my idea of relaxation right now has everything to do with the direction in which my hand is moving. Up, up, and up.
Will’s lack of words and speed in his breathing gives me my answer. His eyes are wild, filled with unadulterated lust as he frantically darts his gaze throughout the bus. It’s quiet, only the steady sound of the bus engine and muted music from earbuds.
My pinky brushes the outline of his cock. I tease his erection, barely grazing against it with my fingers, reveling in the way he squirms and softly grunts in his seat.
I palm his thick dick, squeezing once before slipping my fingers up underneath the hem of his hoodie. When I pull on his waistband, his eyes flit to me with bewilderment, blacked-out pupils staring back at me with nothing but heat in them.
I’m so hard it hurts. The cover of darkness helps hide the tent I’m currently pitching, but I throb and ache between my legs, and my balls feel so damn heavy I could curse this pretty boy for making me like this.
You make me crazy.
I’m breathing hard in his ear, finding his gloriously thick cock and gripping it tight in my grasp.
“Commando, huh?” I muse, lips tilting into a devilish smirk. “You thought about this, didn’t you? Giving me easy access to your fucking dick. Fuck, that’s hot.”
His jaw tightens the second I squeeze, and I use my thumb to swipe the bead of precum seeping out, spreading it over the tip of him.
Will groans quietly, his eyes rolling back when I give him a long stroke from base to tip.
I don’t remember the last time I gave a proper handjob.
Most of the men I’ve hooked up with prefer blowjobs or just straight to fucking.
But I’m going to make this so good for him—make it last for him. Tease him.
“That feel good, Sin? You like it when I stroke you like this?” I murmur, nibbling his earlobe as I work him so, so slowly. Up and down.
His expression morphs from feral need to annoyed, back to untamed lust in a matter of three strokes of his cock. I’ve got him melting in the palm of my hand, and fuck—if that doesn’t feed my ego.
“What are you doing to me?” Will breathes against my mouth.
Looks like he no longer cares if anyone’s watching. The thought of getting caught only makes me leak and stroke him harder. Just knowing a set of curious eyes could be watching Will’s face morph into twisted pleasure is enough to almost make me fuckin’ bust.
Will’s hand suddenly grips my thigh. I don’t dare stop my ministrations despite the painful throb between my legs. “I bet you won’t do it,” I grit, loving the heat from his hand searing me through my sweats.
I earn a rare smirk that makes him look laid back and boyish, a welcome change from his signature scowl.
Will wastes no time snaking his hand past my waistband and straight to the Promised Land.
His rough hand explores my inches from the tip of my leaking slit, all the way down to the tuft of hair near the base where he slightly tugs.
I growl quietly into his neck, stroking him with a little more urgency.
“I bet I can make you come first,” Will rasps, surprising me and lighting me on fire at the same time.
Before I can give him a snarky response, he’s jacking me off with vigor, determined to get me to blow my load with a bus full of people. Nothing excites me more than a challenge, but a challenge from Will Sinclair? Sign me the fuck up.
Our foreheads press together, both of us panting heavily against our lips. I start to lose control, feeling the familiar tightening in my balls.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Oh, you’re close, aren’t you, War? You want me that bad, baby?”
Baby? Let me off this fucking bus so I can show him exactly how bad I want him. I’ll tear his clothes off like a rabid animal and get so lost deep inside of him he won’t even remember his goddamn name.
“I want you to come is what I want, Sin.”
“You gotta do better than that.” He strains each word as I feel his cock thickening in my hand.
“I can hold out.” I struggle, my breath stuck in my throat as I withhold my impending orgasm.
Fucking shit!
“No you can’t. I need you to come for me now, War. Do it.”
Jesus. His dirty talk is about to send me over the edge. Who knew that Pretty Boy had such a filthy mouth.
“You fucking do it,” I quip back.
I swear the veins in my neck are going to explode, sweat dotting along my upper lip.
Will stares at my mouth, his face lit with the moonlight coming from the window.
He’s all consuming and so fucking gorgeous it physically hurts.
I’m barely holding on, begging—wishing—he’d lick my mouth and taste how badly I need his release.
His hand feels fucking glorious. We stroke each other hard, both of us twisting and tugging as if we were getting ourselves off. But it’s his rough hand on me, bringing me so close to a climax he’s working hard for, that makes me almost want to give it to him.
But nah. I won’t yield so easily. He wants me to come? He needs to work a little harder to get me there.
“Give me your mouth, Sin.”
“W-what?” he stutters, breathless.
His hand doesn’t slow, pricking my skin and giving me the goddamn tingles again.
“You keep staring at my mouth. Give me yours and I’ll give you another taste.”
Before I can give another stroke, his mouth collides with mine, and that does me in. He swallows my restrained moan, and I savor his taste like I’ll never have it again. I’m so lost in my climax I don’t realize my hand is covered in warm, sticky liquid.
Will’s tongue battles with mine, and we devour each other under the quiet cloak of darkness with an entire audience around us. We both work each other over through our powerful orgasms, licking and biting our lips, unable to pull away from the intoxicating taste of lust.
“Holy shit,” I pant against his mouth, rolling my damp forehead over his as I regain feeling in my body.
“I won,” Will taunts, giving me another sexy smirk.
I silently chuckle, slowly pulling my hand out of his sweats. He does the same. “No way. It was a tie.”
With his clean hand, he pulls a rag out of his backpack, cleaning off his other. He hands it off to me and I follow.
“Don’t be a sore loser, War.”
“Fine,” I whisper, leaning in to claim his lips in a soft kiss. “You win.”