Page 84 of Studs Up
What I did not need at that moment in the locker room, seconds before I walked out onto the field for warm ups, was an erection. But that fucking picture left me with a longing desire to suck or ride or do whatever Nolan wanted to do with his cock.
The fans were already filling in, and their excitement was in the air.
I was acutely aware of Nolan on the other end of the field running drills and passing the ball around.
This was the first time we’d been on the field against each other since the beginning of the season and the beginning of an intensely sexual relationship.
It turns out that it went exactly like it always had. Our equal desire to win made for an epic battle between us. Except this time, it was far more competitive.
He shoved and tackled, and we raced, and it felt good. The best part was, we won with the goal I scored.
It was a fucking banger, right outside the eighteen, and curved perfectly into the corner. The ghastly look on Nolan’s face when he turned to look at me was worth more than all the goals I had ever scored against Seattle.
I celebrated with my hands to my ears, listening to the groans and curses. Beautiful, beautiful sounds.
“Dickhead,” he grumbled as he passed me to shake Charlemagne’s hand. I couldn’t help but snort.
I sped through the post-game stuff. I grabbed my phone. Nolan texted an address to a hotel only a few blocks away.
“Got somewhere to be?” Alex asked as I finished dressing.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve gotta do something. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?”
“A place,” I said, grabbed my coat and speed walked out of the locker room.
I took an Uber, getting dropped off a block away.
The hotel was nice. Big enough for me to blend in and ride the elevator unnoticed.
“We had a deal,” he said when he opened his door. Nolan reached through the threshold and grabbed my coat, dragging me in.
“What the fuck makes you think your cock is good enough to take a loss?” I breathed as he pulled me into his arms. His glower was sexy as fuck.
He grunted bitterly, but his hand was already gripping my ass, squeezing and stroking. I needed his skin against mine. Going so long without him was beginning to hurt more each day. I buried my face into his neck and moaned. The calls and texts weren’t enough.
His body drained of tension as he molded around me. There was something about feeling his body relax the same way mine did when we were together that made my heart want to explode. He cupped my head with a gentle, steadying hand.
The kisses were slow and sensual. I had to pull back to breathe, or I would have happily suffocated and died. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and stepped away.
“Hi,” I breathed.
“You were supposed to lose,” he rumbled.
The room had a view of the sound. Lights from the other side shimmered like little orange and white jewels on a dark horizon. I walked to the window to take it in.
He came up behind me and pulled my ass to his groin.
“Come on,” I said, teasing him with a rotation of my hips. “That’s going to be goal of the week. No way Diaz could stop that one.”
“Fuck you,” he grunted.
“That’s why I’m here,” I said. My pants were down before I could stop him, and his hand pressed to my back, bending me over. I braced on the windows, my palms flat, and prayed that no one had a drone out there.
Strong fingers dug into my ass and spread me apart.
“As consolations go, this isn’t bad,” he said. I dropped my head between my shoulders and laughed.
