23. Jack

By the time we reach the hotel, I"m bouncing out of my seat. I need to stretch my legs and run around to get some of this energy out. Most of all, I need to shower.

It"s pretty late already, and our game is at 11:30 tomorrow morning. But most of us napped, and we"re all starving. There"s a chain restaurant across the parking lot from the hotel that is still open for another hour, so everyone plans to throw their stuff in their rooms and walk over to get food before calling it a night. I rush through a quick sponge bath and change of clothes, because I"m a mess. There"s dried cum all over my torso and thighs, and my shirt got soaked. I wiped most of it away with the small blanket that the bus provided. I feel bad about shoving it in the trash before we cleared off the bus.

I wonder if the bus driver will know what those white stains on the back seat are, or figure out why he"s completely out of the shitty, thin paper towels they stock the tiny bathroom with. My hoodie covered the damage to my shirt, but there are streaks on my shorts. Clearly, that got out of hand in a way I wasn"t ready for. I hadn't anticipated coming that hard, or that I wouldn"t be able to stop, since Bryant had the control and he"s a sadistic bastard. I also didn"t think that he would get out of his seat, march purposefully down to the back of the bus, and fucking cum on me before walking away like nothing happened.

Fuck. That man.

The guys are rowdy as hell in the restaurant, which turns out to be a buffet style place called Sirloin Stockade. I"m pretty sure we clean them out of whatever food they had left, and no matter how neatly we stack the plates we use, there is still a mess when we leave. The waitresses seem to be entertained by us, though, and I"m not surprised when I overhear a couple of the guys inviting them to sneak into their hotel rooms tonight. We make it worth all their time, because not only do the coaches pay for our meals with a gratuity added, but most of the guys throw some money on the table, so they get a hefty extra tip.

I have a little too much fun enjoying an ice cream cone on the walk back to the hotel, because I know that he"s watching. Turns out, he"s not the only one.

"Damn, Jack. You lick that cone like I wish Grant"s mom would lick my cock," Alex jokes.

I tense for a moment, a small amount of fear flashing through me, but everyone"s laughing at Grant chasing Alex across the parking lot, not paying any attention to my small panic attack. I get myself together in time for a comeback, knowing that the one way to throw someone off your tracks is to not be afraid of it. If I call him names or get upset, it"ll only stand out. This is just how guys play.

So when Alex looks back at me, I jokingly wink at him and shove the whole cone in my mouth. Alex groans dramatically, setting off another fit of laughter from the guys around us. By the time we"re back at the hotel, everyone is laughing about something that one of the rookies did on their bus, but I"m not listening. I"m busy planning.

At the front desk, I make a point to flirt with the hostess, and she gives us access to the indoor pool, which is normally closed after ten, if we promise to behave. The way she"s winking when she says it tells me she"s expecting me to come see her while my buddies are swimming, but she"s not likely to see me again.

I"m sharing a room with one of the defensive ends, a quiet guy named Mike. He seems cool enough, but doesn"t talk much. That suits me just fine. I"m busy thinking about how I"m going to sneak out and make it down the hall to the room I saw Bryant has to himself. When Mike grabs some swim trunks and asks why I"m not getting ready, I brush him off.

"Nah, man. I"m tired as fuck, and I didn"t bring swim trunks. I might pop down later to talk to the redhead, though," I say with a wink.

After he leaves, I take a quick shower and mess up my blankets before looking to see if the coast is clear. If Mike comes back while I"m gone, I"ll just say I got restless and went for a walk. I don't plan to be gone long, though.

I walk quickly and quietly down the hall in nothing but a pair of black sleep pants. My cock is already half hard and pressing against the thin fabric. I find myself flexing as I knock on the door, and I stop before I embarrass myself. What the fuck is wrong with me?

When the door opens, his eyes widen. Not with excitement, but with fear.

"What the fuck are you doing, Jack?"

"I dunno. What the fuck are you doing?" I sarcastically parrot back, grabbing my bulge for good measure.

His phone rings, and he backs into the room to answer it. I take the opportunity to come in and close the door behind me, even though he"s shaking his head furiously and waving me out, mouthing, "No, get out!" I ignore him and drop my pants, because I know he can"t resist this dick, and he fucking owes me after the cum bath he gave me on the bus.

"Yeah, alright. See you in a minute," he says into the phone, looking at me pointedly.

He hangs up and slams his phone down. "You have to get out of here, right fucking now."

"Why—" There"s a knock at the door.

Fuck.It"s too fucking late now.

Bryant looks panicked. "One sec," he calls as we scramble for a place to hide. I open the closet door, but it"s too small and already has a large suitcase in there.. He waves me away from the bathroom, because what if they need to use it? There isn"t enough space under the bed. The only place left for me to go is out on the balcony, which is where he pushes me before closing and locking the fucking door.

There"s only one problem: I"m butt fucking naked, and it"s fucking freezing outside. I scrunch down and hug my knees, listening closely to whoever"s visiting him at this time of night. Don"t they know he"s old and needs his beauty sleep?

My humor isn"t enough to keep me warm, and it doesn't take long before I"m shivering. I peek through a small gap in the glass door and see Bryant let Coach Sanders in.

"Come on in, Tuck," he says, holding the door open and looking calm, like nothing out of sorts is happening. Why the fuck is he letting him in? Tell him to fuck off!

I watch as Bryant kicks my pants under the bed before Sanders sees them, walking in and sitting down at the small table. They"re having some kind of fucking meeting? Now?

"It"s cold as hell in here, man," Sanders says as he takes a seat.

"Yeah, sorry. The heat was hiked up too high while we were at dinner. I opened the door to air it out a bit," he explains smoothly. Impressive cover, I"ll give him that.

"I guess that"s why you"re so sweaty then," Sanders says, gesturing to the sheen of sweat coating his forehead.

"I guess."

"You alright?"

"Eh, bit of a headache, if I"m being honest. Let"s make this quick and get some rest before tomorrow."

They go over what sounds like last-minute defense strategies while my balls shrivel in the cold. I miss a lot of what they"re saying, the chattering of my teeth and the increasingly biting wind drowning out most of their conversation. I overhear something about a press conference, and then Sanders is finally standing up to leave.

"You sure you want to let him go after this season?" I hear Sanders ask, and my ears perk up. "He"s damn good. If we talk him into staying through senior year, we could have two winning seasons in a row."

Bryant makes a non-committal noise. "You picked a good one, I"ll give you that. But I made promises to get him here, and I don"t know that I could keep him interested long enough to keep his shit together through another season."

Wrong.

My eyes widen at the realization that as much as I"ve been looking forward to my big break, I probably would stay—if he asked me to. The sudden epiphany makes me worry for myself. It's proof that this is more than just a diversion, more than just getting my rocks off.

I"ve got a big, gay crush on my football coach.

"You"ve done well with him, though. He"s doing better than I ever expected, that"s for sure. Not one incident, not one complaint. Whatever you"re doing is working."

I wish I could see Bryant"s face right now. A grin stretches across my frozen cheeks as I chuckle at the thoughts that must be running through his mind.

Finally, Sanders leaves, but Bryant doesn"t come and get me right away. By the time he opens the door and pulls me in, closing the curtains behind me, he"s livid, and so am I.

We speak at the same time.

"Are you crazy? What the fuck do you think you"re doing?"

"Why the fuck would you leave me out there so long?!"

I pull a blanket off his bed and wrap it around me, still shivering, while we stare each other down and fume.

"You said you could be discreet," he says, too calmly.

"Says the guy that frosted me on a bus full of people," I counter.

He narrows his eyes. "You asked for it."

"You"re goddamn right I did," I retort, trying to force a smirk.

A moment passes before Bryant sighs loudly and walks over to me. "Are you alright?"

"I"m afraid you might have to work harder to edge me now that my balls have taken up permanent residence inside my body."

He rolls his eyes. "Come on." He pulls me to the bathroom and starts the shower, dropping the blanket to the floor. He rubs my shoulders while the water heats up, trying to warm my skin with the friction. "Fuck, you"re freezing."

"I was outside. Naked. In November. In fucking Kansas," I say through my chattering teeth.

"Get in before it gets too hot. We"ll work up to it." I want to question his use of "we", but he pulls his hoodie and shirt over his body before stepping out of his pants, underwear, and socks. He shuffles me into the standing shower, bracing me against him beneath the spray. It"s hot against my skin, despite there being no steam. As the water heats and the room starts to fog, my skin thaws, and I relax against his chest.

"Better?" He asks, his lips against my neck. I nod, unable to find words, and silently thankful that my dick still works, seeing as it"s finally noticed Bryant"s proximity. "I should punish you for being so reckless," he says, and his teeth rake against the tendon between my neck and shoulder. I moan, low and throaty. There"s nothing cold about me anymore. I"m thoroughly heated through.

Despite being one hundred percent on board with his brand of punishment, I point out, "I got left outside in the freezing cold for an hour."

"It was ten minutes, fifteen tops."

"Felt like an hour."

He hums noncommittally. It"s a sound he makes often around me, and it makes my dick harden in anticipation of what he might do next.

Although it"s happened once before, I don"t think I'll ever get used to the sight of Bryant Nicks getting down on his knees for me. He swallows my cock in one move, and I let out a string of curses, slapping my hand against the tile to steady myself.

With the water hitting my chest and rolling down my body, Bryant sputters, gags, and takes loud breaths as he works my cock. The sounds only make it better, sloppier, nastier. The fingers he pushes into my ass have me crying out.

"I"m close," I say, expecting him to edge me like he normally does. Instead, he doubles his efforts, adding a third finger, fondling my balls, and hollowing out his cheeks to suck me harder. "Ahh, fuck!" I cry out as I spasm and spurt, pumping cum into Bryant"s willing mouth.

He pops off my cock with his mouth full of cum, but distracts me by spinning me around and pressing my hands to the wall. Fuck yeah, I know what he"s telling me. But he says it anyway.

"Hold on, baby," he says after he spits the load of my cum down my ass crack. He rubs his length into the mess, lubing up his cock before slamming into me.

This time I"m ready for him, stretched and pliant from his fingers. My back arches as I bend as low as I can, trying to give him that perfect angle. His thrusts are fast and hard, and the way he pounds against my prostate has me ready to blow again. I"m going to need to hydrate at the rate I"m going today. He growls and I think he"s coming, but he doesn"t stop, he just slows. He keeps himself inside me, pulling my back against his chest and pressing me against the shower wall. He rolls his hips, still thrusting into me with slow, rolling movements that make my eyes roll back in my head.

"One more. Come for me, Jack," he demands, and I fucking whimper like a baby when he wraps his hand around my cock and pumps another orgasm out of me.

When he pulls out of me, it"s all I can do to hold myself upright. We get washed up and Bryant hands me a towel. Outside the bathroom, he hands me a bottle of water, which I gulp down gratefully. The silence is awkward, and I know I need to leave, even though everything in me desperately wants to stay. I want to lie next to him and watch tv or talk, to fall asleep with his warmth wrapped around me, and then wake him up by choking on his morning wood. I know I can"t, though. That"s what a boyfriend would do. It would not only undermine what this is about, it would also put us at risk of getting caught. This is not a relationship, and I"m not his boyfriend.

Apparently, the guys are all coming back from their swim, because it"s loud in the hallway.

"I"ll have to stay until they settle in," I say awkwardly.

He gestures to the bed and turns the television on. We lay against the pillows in just our towels, watching ESPN. He gives me a proud look when I"m mentioned during a college football recap, and the announcer says I"m the number one player to watch, and they even launch into some of my future prospects. My chest swells with both pride and sadness, because although my future will be starting soon, something else will be ending at the same time.