Page 15 of Studs Up
Maybe Alex was right but in the other direction. It was childish and stupid, but if he wanted to watch. I’d let him watch. I’d give him so much to watch that he wouldn’t want to look at me again because straight guys do not want other male body parts shoved in their faces.
…
Having a plan, as ridiculous as it was, had me walking onto the field with a lighter step, and to my relief, I had a great practice.
The nightmares usually brought me to a dark place I couldn’t shake. And last night, they had been dark. But waking up and finding myself in his arms did something inside that clicked.
Never, in a thousand years, did I even think Nolan Reed had an ounce of compassion.
Didn’t matter. I was still going to kick his ass.
When we scrimmaged, I beat Reed once, and that got under his skin like a thousand ticks.
He fumed as I walked back into the training facility to cool down with Alex and Morales.
Instead of spending every minute until curfew with Alex and Charlemagne, I returned to our room to turn up the heat. The thermometer went all the way up to eighty-five degrees. Perfect.
Heat radiated through the room, hotter than even I liked, but it was the principle of the thing. I stripped down to my boxer briefs to tolerate the heat and sat on my bed to scroll through my phone while I waited. And waited, and waited.
He took fucking forever to show up. I kept wiping the sweat off my skin and downing water to look as unbothered as possible.
Nolan Reed entered the room, stomping and grumbling, and stopped just as the door swung itself shut.
He looked at me, turned to the thermometer, and then back at me.
“Hey,” I said in the most friendly tone I could muster. He said nothing. His eyes dragged over my body, searing more heat into my skin than the temperature in the room.
His eyes traveled back up my body, and I was pretty sure stripping down was one of the worst decisions I had ever made.
The sapphire irises darkened and flushed. I almost wanted to get naked to see if he liked it. Remembering he was straight was so hard in that second he wouldn’t look away.
He dropped his bag, pulled off his shirt, and stripped down to his boxer briefs, too, and good god. I had glanced at his body in the locker room and always had to turn away. But there he was, right there in front of me, and I gaped like a fool. He was so fucking beautiful, muscled and lean. Dark curly hair spread across his chest, extending in a thin line down his stomach and vanishing into his boxer briefs. Fucking hell. It was confirmed that this was the biggest mistake I had ever made.
I didn’t even consider the possibility he’d strip too. I thought he’d yell at me to put clothes back on and the plan had been to defiantly ignore him until he shut up and kept his eyes to himself.
He didn’t even flinch when he stripped in front of me.
I swallowed. Blood was pumping hot and rushing straight to my cock. I wanted to put my hands on him so badly.
This plan was not well thought out. I was now trapped in a tiny room, mostly naked, with a mostly naked Nolan fucking Reed, and I found myself fighting a massive erection.
He strode into the bathroom and closed the door, and I wheezed like an old man with a bad smoking habit. What the fuck had I been thinking?
The first time I played against Nolan, we were sixteen. We were gangly kids trying to prove ourselves. It was the competition that put us both on the map.
We battled bitterly to the very end. Every time he tackled me, put his hands on me, or was even near me, my brain glitched. I had to fight harder to get through the game.
I had the winning goal that night and held up the trophy to a crowd of family, friends, and hardcore fans. But Nolan’s touch never got out of my head.
That night, after all the celebrating, I went to bed and woke covered in cum.
The first time I jerked off to him was six weeks later when I snuck out and drove the three hours north to watch him play a preseason game against Sin City FC’s academy.
He was incredible to watch. Already an intelligent defender and powerful.
I was so hard I didn’t make it back. I was forced to pull over in the middle of the night to jerk off in my car before I had a clear enough head to drive the rest of the way.
The second time we played against each other, I knew I was doomed. He took offense to the goal I scored against him. He rode my ass the whole game and made damn well sure I didn’t get a shot off.
