Chapter 12

Strength trainingalways kicks my butt, but the burn is addictive. Even though my arms feel like Jell-O and my legs are shaking, my grin comes easily.

Sammy’s giving Leon shit about bench presses, and the whole team is laughing, including Leon. Like this, Sammy’s in his element. He loves being the joker and entertaining. His gorgeous eyes are bright with amusement, and the smile curving his full lips is genuine.

I’m catching my breath after doing squats, a towel draped over my shoulders, when Sammy wraps his arm around Leon.

A full-on smirk is on his handsome face. “Are you lifting those weights or just showing them the view?”

Rolling his eyes, Leon snorts out a laugh. “Unlike you, I’m not auditioning for the next superhero movie.”

Fresh laughter breaks out. Sammy may be the shortest guy on our team and probably parties the hardest, but he takes his fitness seriously.

“Hey, someone’s gotta save the day. Might as well be me and my guns.” He kisses his sweaty bicep, and I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip, jealous that I can’t just walk up to him and trail it over him.

I school my reaction just in time as Leon shoots me a look, an arched brow that screams “how in the hell do you put up with this guy?”

If only he knew how perfectly I reined him in and silenced him last night when I shot my load deep inside him.

I manage a shrug, trying to block out my wayward thoughts.

Leon turns his attention back to Sammy. “A snack villain, maybe. The amount of weird shit you put in your body is likely a superpower.”

“Right!” Kieran intervenes. “Who the fuck eats peanut butter and pickles on a sandwich?” A shudder follows while the team adds their agreement.

I agree. It’s gross.

Smoothing his features into mock seriousness, Sammy nods solemnly. “It’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it. It takes something special to get these babies looking so fine.” The asshole rubs his hand over his six-pack.

Because of course he’s shirtless. I suspect he’s trying to get me worked up, as I left him hanging, hard and needy, in the alcove earlier today.

Unable to resist, I follow the movement, my gaze tracing the contours of his sculpted abdomen. The chiseled lines draw my attention, a magnetic pull that’s dangerous at the best of times, especially when we’re in a room with our teammates.

But still, I watch, only pulling my attention away when Sammy shifts and our gazes clash.

The fucker smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me.

I shake my head, ignoring my flushed cheeks, hoping the pink blends in with the heat from my exertion.

“Jesus, whoever gets to handle your ass has their work cut out for them. It makes sense that Bentley’s the only one able to deal.”

I swallow hard at Leon’s comment. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll be the only person handling Sammy’s ass. Ever, if possible.

Sammy bounces his brows. “It’s understandable why you can’t keep your eyes off my assets, Leon. Glutes of steel are no joke. Oomph.” A towel smacks him in the face, a good aim from Leon.

We’re all snickering as Coach Maple steps into the gym. “It’s not quitting time yet.”

“Sure thing, Coach.” Sammy salutes him, then sensibly moves to the bench press.

I head to the medicine ball, half my attention on Sammy. It’s not like last night flipped a switch in me. Honestly, since the first time we hooked up, my attention is never far from him.

I’m borderline obsessed. Not something I’m exactly proud of, but I’m not running from it either. Especially not now. Not since he came to me yesterday.

I’m so focused on Sammy and the way his muscles are bunching and how the overhead lights make his sweat glisten over his dark brown skin that Tyron appearing at my side makes me fumble the medicine ball.

He quirks a brow at me, his lips twitching.

“You good?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

Silence settles between us, but that’s okay. I’m not much of a talker in general, and while Tyron can be almost as mouthy as Sammy, he also appreciates the quiet.

He moves opposite me and indicates for me to throw him the heavy ball. I do so, and he catches it effortlessly before he passes it back.

After a few throws, he asks, “Are you still heading out to Sammy’s this Thanksgiving?”

I bob my head. I spent last Thanksgiving with Sammy and his family too. “Sure am. Sammy said we’re dropping you off at the airport on the way.”

“And Logan.”

My brows shoot high, and I smile. “No shit. Taking him home to meet your dads, huh?” His parents are pretty fucking cool. They try to watch a couple of games every year despite having to fly here.

“Yeah, thought it was about time.”

It’s been a few months—since the start of the school year—that they started seeing each other.

There’s an uncomfortable stab in my gut. Will Sammy and I ever get the chance to do that?

Obviously, he’s met my folks and me his mom and stepdad, but will the two of us together, as a couple, ever happen?

I finally land on “That’s great,” aware Tyron is studying me a little too closely. “I’m happy for you, man.”

And I am. Truly.

Even though I believe those words, it doesn’t stop envy trying to barrel its way into my gut.

Tyron nods at me, throwing the ball back. “And you’re good helping Sammy study?”

Gratitude blooms in my chest. Tyron can be an intense asshole at times, but he cares a lot about his friends. That includes making sure we’re doing okay in school.

“Absolutely. He’ll be fine. He just gets in his head a little sometimes.”

He sends another nod my way. Tyron is the most observant guy I know. While I don’t think anyone else has a clue about all the shit Sammy holds close to his chest, Tyron clearly has a decent idea that Sammy is not as carefree as he pretends to be.

“And you?”

His question catches me off guard.

“Me what?”

That damn quirk of his brow is aimed at me, but at least he’s not technically pushing. Seriously, Tyron can be a pushy bastard at times.

The arched brow and intense gaze he directs my way don’t waver, but I can’t fold. I won’t betray Sammy. At all or ever.

After a beat and me offering the barest of shrugs, which isn’t as carefree as I’d like it to be, Tyron simply nods and says, “Come on. Time to hit the showers.”

It’s a relief. Not only because my muscles are screaming at me but because Tyron is backing off.

“My arms are shot.” I shake them out at my sides. They’re going to kill tomorrow. It’s a good thing there’s no game till the day after next.

“Damn… there goes our arm-wrestling tournament tonight.” Sammy brushes his arm against me as he appears at my side.

I shake my head and smile, ignoring the way my stomach flips at his proximity. The combination of sweat and body spray shouldn’t be sexy, but it is. I suspect it has everything to do with the man who ties my stomach in knots.

I drop my voice as I say, “I think I could still take you.”

He trips over his feet, head snapping my way at the gravel in my voice.

Tyron snorts and walks ahead of us, leaving me to stop and shoot an amused smile at Sammy.

“You doing okay there?”

“You’re an asshole.” His lips twitch even as he narrows his eyes at me.

The only thing I’m buying is the hitch in his breath. Now that I believe.

“Me?” I quirk my brow, 100 percent happy to tease him. Unraveling Sammy is a heady feeling. “You don’t think I can take you?” Maybe I should add on “in an arm-wrestling match with weak arms,” just in case anyone overhears us, but the heat in Sammy’s gaze is addictive.

I’m playing with fire, but the promise in his expression as he stares me down is absolutely worth it.

I could totally bullshit myself and wonder what’s gotten into me. Sure, I tease and can joke around with the guys, but I’m so much more reserved than anyone else on the team.

But I know exactly what’s changed: Sammy showing up yesterday, saying he wants me and wants this thing between us to work.

If that’s not an incentive to step up and make sure he knows exactly where I stand when it comes to him, then nothing short of a flashing neon sign could make things clearer.

“Or are you too sore for that?”

I’m going to hell, but fuck if the double entendres don’t just keep coming. My dick twitches despite us being a few steps away from the locker room, and my basketball training shorts leave nothing to the imagination with a hard cock.

Sammy glances around. We’re alone in the small corridor between the weights room and the locker room. The door of the latter swung closed a little while ago when Kieran stepped through.

As he takes a step toward me, Sammy enters my space, and I’m backing up against the wall. My heart pounds wildly, doubling down when he flicks his tongue out and dampens his bottom lip, his gaze raking over me.

I’ve never concealed what he does to me since this all started—even when I should have.

Need is a magnetic force, drawing us together with an irresistible pull. There’s barely an inch between us. The air charges with an electric intensity that’s sure to buckle my knees if I’m not careful.

“After last night,” he says close to my ear, and I close my eyes, head pressing back to the wall at the sensation of his hot breath fanning over me, “I’ll always be ready for you. Sore or not. It’ll just make me feel you more intensely.”

Breathing raggedly, I can barely focus on anything but Sammy’s promise.

Last night was absolutely the best night of my life. While Sammy came his brains out, knowing he loved me being buried balls deep inside him that much is almost too much for my mind to digest.

Laughter coming from behind the closed locker room door has me wrenching my eyelids open. Sammy’s still there, not bouncing away like usual.

For a beat, he stares at me, a smirk on his lips that I love a little too much; then he edges back, turning away to take a step toward the door just as it opens.

It’s Davey, one of the freshmen. His eyes dart up, pink touching his cheeks.

He’s been super wary since the bullshit surrounding Tiller becoming our new assistant coach.

“Just forgot my headphones.” He darts past us, and I watch him go, hoping Coach made the right call keeping him on the team.

While my eyes stay on Davey, I feel Sammy’s unwavering gaze on me. As soon as the freshman disappears, I slowly angle my head to peer back at Sammy. Since he’s just a couple of inches shorter, it’s easy to be this close to him and take him in.

A playful twinkle dances in his eyes, something familiar and reassuring.

“Is your third leg under control?” A slow arch of his eyebrow joins his question.

My chest swells and almost puffs out. He thinks my cock is big? Fuck yes.

Sure, when he’s been on his knees going to town on me, his gags are the hottest thing ever—as is his praise—but any and every conversation we have with no masks between us gets me going.

So, of course my cock chubs even further. I swear just the sound of his breath and the touch of his skin can make me hard in 0.3 seconds.

“I’ll take that as a no.” The asshole smirks. I want to kiss it off his face, but Davey’s going to be heading back this way any second now.

“Can you blame me?” I challenge. He knows full well what he does to me.

Tilting his head to the side, Sammy does a lazy sweep of my body. “I think it’s a miracle we’ve lasted all these months without me jumping you whenever I can. Sweetheart.”

Fuck.He knows what that word does to me.

Heat slams into me. The need to shove him hard against the wall and take what he’s freely offering is a living, breathing ball of instinct threatening to override my restraint. I’ve never related to words more. I feel them deep in my gut.

His smile slips a little. I don’t like whatever he’s thinking that’s doused the fire in his eyes.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry for the shit I’ve pulled. That I’m still pulling.”

A lead weight drops into my stomach. I’m not even surprised Sammy’s saying this to me. It doesn’t matter that no other fucker would believe he’s capable of such raw honesty.

I know. That’s all that matters.

What it doesn’t mean is that I’m not afraid and insecure. “We’re here and together now, right?”

“Yeah.” His voice dips low, but a door closing has me pausing and taking a small step away. This conversation is way too personal for us to continue having in the corridor.

My dick’s flagging, though, so that’s something.

“Come on. Let’s get showered and head home.” I tug him away from the wall and risk putting my arm over his shoulder.

This is usually Sammy’s move. The guy is the touchiest, feeliest person I know. Not just with me either, which is more than okay. It makes me draping an arm over him, like any friend of his might do without anyone taking a second look, possible.

“Any chance to wipe against my man sweat, you’ll really take, huh?”

My muscles loosen at his sass. “Just what every guy dreams of,” I fire back.

“I don’t need any guy. Just you.”

I almost stumble as he drops those words on me and then shuffles out of my hold as he steps away and through the door of the locker room.

What a fucker.

I grin wide.

I seriously need to find a way to spend a whole night with him uninterrupted and without the threat of someone bursting in on us.