19. Casey

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CASEY

Since this was technically a real date, our first real date, I felt compelled to make it count and give him my best effort. The same effort I would give to anyone I wanted to date. Except, when was the last time I dated?

If I couldn’t remember, it wasn’t a good sign.

I wore my nicest pants, navy slacks, and a white button-down shirt. I looked better suited to a business meeting than a date. The restaurant I’d chosen was known for their quality steaks and wine. Since I hadn’t offered to pick him up, I was in the awkward position of watching the door like a hawk for any sign of him. My first glimpse of Baylor knocked me on my ass, metaphorically.

He wore black slacks and a long-sleeved burgundy button-down that was so fitted I could see the bulge of his biceps stretching the fabric. Damn, the man was fine. And when he turned, I realized just how fitted the pants were as well, molding perfectly to his rounded ass. My mouth watered for another taste.

Dinner first, Casey .

He leaned in close to say hello and I realized he smelled even better than he looked. That musky spicy cologne I knew he probably wore for every date with every woman in SoCal back when he was Big City Baylor. Was he trying to seduce me? Done. He didn’t have to try hard. I’d give him anything he wanted.

When I realized he wasn’t just giving me a friendly hug, but trying to steal a kiss, I froze and pulled away. The look on Baylor’s face said he didn’t appreciate being rejected.

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“No.” He continued to peg me hard with his eyes. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“No!”

Baylor glared. “Which is it, Collins, yes or no?”

He sounded beyond irritated, not that I could blame him. “Both?” I tugged on his arm, pulling him into a corner of the entrance for a modicum of privacy. “Look, I’m not embarrassed of you . My God, you’re…gorgeous.” Baylor smiled smugly. “It’s just that, first of all, you’re you .”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re an umpire, I’m a coach. If we were caught together dating, my entire season could be disqualified and you could lose your job.” He realized the truth in my words, his face tightening.

“Damn, you’re right. You said first of all, so what’s second?”

I blew out a breath, letting my shoulders sag. “It’s not that I’m not out… I just don’t make a thing of it.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

“Can you imagine if I ran into a student or, God forbid, one of my team, at the club the night I met you? It’s why I don’t go often. Can you imagine if one of my players realized I was gay, and that I might be down to fuck? What if they developed a crush on me, like Austin did with Marcus? What kind of position would that put me in? Not only would it ruin my career, it would ruin theirs as well. That blind date we met on? I have to resort to sites like that so I don’t run into students or my team on Grindr and more popular sites for gay men.”

Baylor’s brows drew close. “I guess I didn’t realize. That sounds like a disaster. I just thought…that you were….”

“Embarrassed of you? No, not at all.” His expression smoothed out.

“Hey, you want to get out of here? Go somewhere quieter?”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “That sounds wonderful. Why don’t you follow me? I’ve got a place in mind.”

I watched Baylor’s headlights in my rearview mirror the entire twenty-minute drive. I was dying to see his reaction when he followed me into the parking lot of the stadium. I didn’t have to wait long. When I got out of my truck, he was laughing as he shut his door.

“You know this place is closed, right?” The parking lot was pitch black, as dark as the stadium.

“I know a guy,” I said with a smirk, dangling my keys in front of his face.

“Do you know a guy who happens to have food? I’m starving.”

“Actually, I do. Come on.”

I jogged across the street, and Baylor followed. On the weekends, food trucks lined up on the gravel drive leading into the stadium parking lot. Technically, they weren’t allowed to be on campus, but I guessed this was a gray area, and the students ate it up, preferring the food trucks over the dining hall. We stood in line for tacos and I offered to carry the bag of food while Baylor offered to carry the drinks. We snuck inside the stadium, using the flashlight on my phone to illuminate the way.

“This is crazy,” Baylor murmured, trying not to spill the drinks as we climbed the concrete steps.

“You said someplace quieter, and I can’t hear a single sound. Can you?”

“No,” he laughed. “Not a single sound. Because nobody is stupid enough to be out here but us.”

We grabbed two seats in the middle of Section C-Row 4 and dug into our food. Shit, the grease from the meat in the taco dripped onto my pants.

“I’d recommend removing them immediately to be washed, but this isn’t the place,” Baylor joked. “Know what?” he asked after a minute of chewing. “This is kind of nice.”

“It is, isn’t it? I mean, I can’t see shit, but I can see every single star in the sky.” His eyes caught the light from my phone, appearing to twinkle. I felt the pull between us, drawing me in. I couldn’t deny it, nor did I want to. “Baylor,” I whispered.

He stopped chewing long enough to stare back. I could see he felt it, too. He set his taco down and leaned in. Grasping his jaw, I brought his mouth to mine, brushing my lips against his. He opened for me with the softest moan, and I dug in, tasting him, drinking him in. His sweet flavor was addicting. I wanted more. I wanted to crawl inside of his mouth and possess him from the inside out. I wanted everything he had to give and more. I wanted to make him mine. And that thought startled the shit out of me. Enough to break the kiss.

Baylor looked dazed. “Where did that come from?”

I huffed, not really amused. “It’s always been there, Blue. I don’t know what you do to me, but you twist me up until I can’t see which way is right.”

“Yeah?” he asked softly, sounding pretty proud of himself.

I chuckled. “Yeah. That’s what you do to me. You make me lose my goddamn mind.” He popped the collar on his shirt and leaned back with a sigh, and I couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Does that mean you’re going to fuck me later?”

I swear he had a one-track mind, a lot like me. “I’m going to tear your ass up, Baylor. I hope you’re ready for me.”

“You know, this isn’t really our first date,” he pointed out.

“Of course it is.” I’d have remembered if I asked him on a date before this.

“No, it’s not,” he insisted.

“Don’t tell me you’re counting the club and the Motel 6. ”

“No, that was just sex.”

I tried to recall what came next. “The blind date mix-up?”

“Was it though?” he contended with a smirk.

“Yes, it was. I had no idea it was you.”

“But when you realized it was, you didn’t leave.”

“True, but still. It wasn’t a date, just a prelude to a hookup.”

“Maybe, until you realized it was me. But you knew we weren’t hooking up, and you stayed.”

“As friends!”

“Keep telling yourself that, Collins. I’ll choose to think it was a date.”

I laughed incredulously. “You’re an ass.”

“And you love me.” I stared at him, shocked, and he stared back, his eyes growing wider by the second. “That’s not what I meant. I meant, you know, not love -love, but like, not me , but…”

A bark of laughter burst from me, the sharp sound echoing throughout the empty stadium. He was hilarious, all tongue-tied and twisted up. “I know what you meant.” My fingers stroked his cheek. “And you’re right, I do. As much as you infuriate me, and give me the worst headaches imaginable, and heartburn, and indigestion?—”

“Okay, Casey, make your point,” he huffed.

I was laughing as I finished, “I wouldn’t change too many things about you.”

“Too many? You’re supposed to say you wouldn’t change anything.”

“Well, that would be a lie,” I admitted, smiling playfully.

He shoved my shoulder. “Have you ever gotten blown in the middle of a stadium?”

Wicked satisfaction coursed through my blood, making my heart beat faster. “I can’t say that I have. Have you?”

“Nope. But there’s a first for everything.”

His fingers worked my pants open, not an easy feat when I was already growing hard and straining against the zipper. When he slid it down, along with my briefs, my cock popped out, stiff and ready to be sucked. Baylor wasted no time, bending his head over my lap. He wrapped his lips around my shaft and sucked hard, just the way I liked it. Using lots of saliva, he slurped and sucked noisily, my fingers tightening in his hair, my head tipped back in pleasure.

“Damn, your mouth. I love the way you suck my cock. Don’t stop. Not until I come down your throat.”

He moaned, loving that idea. The glide of his lips down my sensitive skin set my body on fire. It felt so illicit to be doing this in the middle of my place of work, in a place normally filled with thousands of people. The cool night air kissed my skin, sending shivers throughout my body. Baylor gagged on my cock, muscles in his throat constricting, and it sent me over the edge.

“Coach,” he whimpered around my shaft.

I bucked my hips while holding his head down, fucking into the back of his throat and coating it with my seed. “Swallow it. Every drop.” He even licked up his spit afterward, leaving me clean and tidy. I brought his mouth up to mine for a kiss, tasting my flavor on his tongue. “Good boy,” I praised him. He didn’t normally get my praise, just my condemnation. It seemed to have a similar effect on him, and he whimpered into my mouth.

“What about me, Coach?”

I knew he was desperate to come, but that was the point. “What about you?” I asked, purposely making him feel unimportant, like an object who existed solely for my desire.

“Do I get to come?”

“Maybe. Maybe later.”

I pushed his head away and grabbed my drink, appearing to take my time finishing the last few sips. Let him sweat. Let him think I couldn’t care less about his pleasure. That was the key to fucking with his head. He would spend the next hour doubting himself, making himself feel small and vulnerable, and by the time we got back to my bedroom, I could easily mold him into the dirtiest, most willing cock slut. He would love it just as much, if not more than I would.

Baylor sat up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and finished off his soda. He chuckled low. “I had no idea you’re a sadist.”

“Yes, you did,” I grinned.

A shooting star bursts overhead, arcing like a trail of fire through the sky. “Look,” I pointed.

“We have to make a wish.”

I looked at him sideways, trying to discern whether he was serious. But then he closed his eyes, like he was wishing very hard. “Really?”

He ignored me until he was finished. “You don’t wish on shooting stars? What kind of villain are you? Are you completely dead inside?”

“No,” I laughed, closing my eyes to play along. “The fuck am I supposed to wish for?”

“Something you want, but think you can’t have. Something you don’t believe is real.”

That narrowed it down considerably. Finding love, a love like Marcus and Austin shared, wasn’t real. It was also something I wanted badly.

I wish… I wish to have a love like theirs .

I felt the warmth of Baylor’s hand cover mine before I even opened my eyes. “Now all you have to do is believe. Have a little faith, Casey.”

When I opened them, I was staring into his hypnotic chestnut gaze, and I was undone. For that moment, I was under his spell. The wish, the star, and his smile had woven magic around us, even if it was a fleeting kind of magic, where faith and believing were enough to make dreams come true. This time, when my lips touched his, it wasn’t a ravenous, starving kiss that couldn’t be quenched. It was slow and steady, an exploration of tongues, a giving and receiving of mutual desire, but more than that, it was two souls coming together. Soul bonding.

Jesus Christ. This was Baylor, the bane of my existence. The man responsible for every migraine I’ve had this season. Every time he opened his mouth, I developed heartburn. This was my soulmate? This was the man I was supposed to throw caution to the wind with and jump feet first?

How in the hell had I gotten here?

On paper, it might be our first date, but I’d known him for weeks, months, even. And it started from the very first night we met. It always came back to him. If he wasn’t the right man for me, I wouldn’t be sitting here contemplating soul-bonding bullshit in an empty stadium on our first real date.

This was it. This was my guy. With the stunning Colgate smile and eyes that could make me confess my darkest sins. This was the pain in the ass that would haunt me for the rest of my days.

And then he opened his mouth and broke the spell he had over me. “You were gonna fuck me, right? Cause after these tacos, I might have to clean myself out again.”

Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t roll your eyes.

Baylor had a unique way of bringing me back to reality and popping the love bubble my head was floating in. I did have plans to edge him, to make him wait, to take him apart piece by piece in my bedroom, but hell, now I just wanted to get inside of him. Plus, he had a point about the tacos.

“Stand up, Baylor.”

“We’re leaving now? Good call.”

“You wouldn’t know a good call if it crawled up your ass and fucked you.”

“I hope it’s about to,” he said, jumping to his feet.

“Put your hands on the railing down there.” It was two rows down, and he practically took the steps in one jump, bracing his hands on the railing and widening his stance. “Drop your drawers first, doofus.”

He fumbled to drop his pants, followed by his briefs. They pooled around his ankles, limiting how wide he could spread his legs. “Like this?”

“How many ways are there to drop your pants, genius? Pop your ass out so I can see it.” I couldn’t see shit with how dark it was, but I shone the light from my phone on him, highlighting his backside.

“You’re gonna fuck me now?”

“No, just stand there for a while and let me look at you.” It was all part of the game, to humiliate him, to expose him, and make him feel self-aware. I would let him stand there for at least fifteen minutes, wondering what came next, feeling the cold air on his skin shrinking his balls.

“This isn’t what I had in mind when you told me to drop my pants.”

“I doubt there’s much on your mind. It’s empty. You don’t have to think; just stand there and do what I tell you.”

Baylor glanced over his shoulder, trying to see me in the dark. “Yes, Coach.”

After a minute, I added, “Spread your cheeks.” Baylor reached behind him and grabbed one cheek in each hand, spreading them for me. I could just make out the dark shadow of his hole. Fuck, I didn’t have any lube with me. If he wanted my cock, he’d have to take it with spit.

I scooted down to the first row right behind him to get a better look. I was close enough to smell his scent when the wind blew past my face. In the distance, a car alarm went off, making Baylor nervous. He glanced back again and began to straighten. “Casey?—”

Lightning quick, my foot shot out, and I kicked his legs apart. “Don’t move.” He resumed his position, keeping his mouth shut for once. “I like you like this,” I murmured, stroking my cock through my pants. “Willing and waiting. Silently begging to be filled.” Mostly, I liked the silent part. With Baylor, it happened so rarely. “How badly do you want my cock?”

He whimpered before he answered, “Please, Coach, I want it bad.”

“What would you do if I shoved inside you without any warning? Would you cry?” My fingers stroked his ass cheek. So smooth, not a hair in sight.

“N-no,” he stuttered.

“What if I fucked you hard enough to shove your head and chest into that railing? Would you ask me to stop?”

“No, Coach.”

“What if you accidentally came first? Would you allow me to punish you?”

“Y-yes, Coach. Can I touch myself?”

“Did I tell you that you could?”

“No.”

“Then the answer is no.”

But I could. Sliding my cock free of my briefs, I stroked it slowly, the tips of my fingers dancing over the sensitive skin. A clear bead formed at the tip and with my thumb, I spread it around the head.

“What if I told you I changed my mind and you can’t come tonight? That I just want to sit here and look at you. Would you obey me?”

“Yes, Coach, but please don’t say that,” he pleaded, and I smiled.

He was really desperate.

I dragged my finger through his cheeks, slightly dipping into his hole. He tightened his rim, his muscles contracting around my finger, reminding me just how tight he was.

“Who are you, Baylor? What are you?”

“I’m a bitch. Your bitch.”

My fist squeezed tighter around my shaft, drawing out another bead. The words sounded so pretty, rolling off his tongue. “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” he answered without hesitation. I smacked his ass hard, and he flinched. “I mean, to obey and please you, Coach.”

“Does it please you to please me?” I tapped my finger against his hole, watching it expand and contract.

“God, yes.”

“You sound like a desperate bitch. I’ve seen dogs in heat that were just as desperate. Do you know what they do?” He made a strangled sound, fearing what I was about to say. “They hump nothing, thin air. Would you do that if it pleased me?”

“Y-yes, Coach.”

“What are you waiting for, Baylor?”

“Oh, God,” he groaned, bucking his hips forward and backward. It was a delicious sight, partly because he had the nicest ass, and partly because I got off on watching him do as I say.

“Bark like a bitch, Baylor.”

“Coach, please,” he begged.

“Be a good boy for me and you might get the treat you’ve been waiting for.”

The sounds of protest he made before he actually barked, his hips still humping the air, made me hard again in no time. The sound of his bark echoed through the empty stadium, mocking him from all sides. I leaned around him to watch. His cock bobbed with each thrust of his hips.

“Turn around,” I ordered. “Place your hands on my shoulders. Slip your cock in my mouth and fuck my face.” To make it purposely difficult for him, the humiliating component, I left my mouth just out of reach, but wide open, a silent invitation. I got off on watching Baylor strain on his tiptoes to try to reach my mouth. He was desperate to hump my face. Just like the dog he pretended to be. Finally, I gave in and lowered my head so he could reach me. When he sank his shaft into the tight, wet heat of my mouth, he sighed loudly with pleasure and relief.

“Fuck yes.” The tips of his fingers dug into my shoulders as he leveraged them, thrusting to the back of my throat. I swallowed every inch without gagging. “Oh, God, oh, God, please, can I?—”

I knew what he was asking. “Don’t you dare,” I warned, popping off his dick.

“But I’m so close.”

“Down there,” I pointed to the field.

“Down there?” he asked, following my finger.

“On your hands and knees. When you’re in position, bark for me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured, taking the stairs in the dark three at a time.

I followed slowly, not really able to see him clearly until I was standing on the field. This was my ultimate fantasy, to fuck him on the field where we both worked and spent most of our time. On the field where he challenged me, got up in my face and blew his stupid fucking whistle at me, and even ejected me from the game. On the field where, when the lights were turned on, and the seats were filled with fans, Baylor was in charge. He called the shots, and I followed his orders. But when the lights were off, and the stadium was empty, it was my turn to call the shots.

Tonight, I was in charge.

He barked twice, and I was on him in an instant, dropping to my knees behind him. I couldn’t care less about the grass stains on my fancy slacks. I just had to get inside of him.

“I don’t have any lube, so you’ll have to make do.” With that, I spit a big wad of saliva between his cheeks, using the tip of my cock to spread it around his hole. I didn’t even stretch him with my fingers, but I did take my time, pushing my way inside, letting him adjust to the invasion before popping my head through his rim. He cried out when I breached him. I gripped his hips and sank balls deep into his perfect body. Just holding myself still, absorbing the incredible heat of him. The feeling of his inner walls tightening around my cock, spasming around me, almost had me blowing my load right then and there. I had to breathe through my nose slowly until the feeling passed.

“How’s that feel?” I cooed.

“You’re killing me.”

“Good. Brace yourself,” I warned, before slamming my full weight into his body. My balls slapped against my thigh with each thrust. My hips thundered against his body. The smacking sound was loud in the silence, as was our labored breathing. “Who do you belong to?”

“You, Coach.”

“What are you?” I grated between clenched teeth.

“Your bitch. ”

I moved my hands from his hips to his shoulders for more leverage, sinking deeper, thrusting harder. Baylor grunted, he moaned, and just before he came without my permission, he cried out my name.

“Fuck, Casey!”

He was going to pay for that.

I came right behind him, pulling out just in time to spray his back. His shirt was ruined, not that I cared. It was just one of many consequences he would suffer tonight—for coming without permission, for calling out my name instead of Coach, and for making me realize I cared more than I wanted to.

Planting my hand on the small of his back, I pushed to my feet and tucked my cock away, zippering my pants. Baylor tried to sit up, but I planted my foot on his back. “I didn’t tell you to get up.”

“Yes, sir.” It’s easy not to feel ashamed or humiliated when you’re horny… well, easier , but afterward, when you come down, the lust is watered down, and those feelings start to creep back in. I wanted Baylor to feel them. I wanted him to drown in them. And then I wanted him to crawl to me on his hands and knees, so I could make him feel better. That was the power exchange that I craved in this dynamic.

I took my time tucking in my shirt, straightening my pants, and brushing the dirt from my knees. I walked around Baylor in a circle, admiring him from all angles. Wisely, he kept his head down, without even needing to be told. Making another circle, I stopped in front of him and backed up several feet .

“Come here, Baylor.” He looked up at me, unsure how to proceed. “Like a dog would,” I explained. I watched his throat slide as he swallowed nervously before crawling toward me. He stopped at my feet and looked up.

I crouched down on my haunches. Cupping his face in my hands, I kissed him slowly and softly. Deeply, and with affection. It was the perfect chaser for my orgasm. When I pulled back, I could barely make out his face, but I saw tears in his eyes track down his cheeks. Swiping them with my thumbs, I kissed his lips again, lightly.

“That was probably the hottest moment of my life. It was a gift. You gave me a gift. Something I’ll remember forever. A fantasy come true. You also gave me something else tonight, but I’ll keep that to myself for now. All I can say is thank you.”

One more kiss on his forehead. I stood and helped him to his feet. More tears chased the ones I wiped away, but it didn’t surprise me. I had made an emotional mess of him. That’s what humiliation and degradation did, fucked with people’s heads, laid their souls bare, and made them doubt everything they thought they knew about themselves. And then reinforced all of that with tenderness and aftercare.

“Why don’t you drive with me, and we’ll come back for your car tomorrow?”

He just nodded, and then Baylor hugged me. My arms came around him instantly, and I hugged him back. “You okay?” The words were just a whisper in his hair. He nodded against my chest. “Let me help you get dressed.” I helped him pull up his pants and tuck his shirt in. When we reached the truck, I even helped him with his seatbelt. He was clearly rattled and probably exhausted. “I feel like stopping for another slushy. How about you?”

“God, that sounds perfect,” he said, followed by a teary sniffle as he tried to get himself together.

“So, what did you wish for?” I asked when we pulled out of the parking lot.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” he teased.