Jasmine and Mel were neither of those things. They just very clearly loved the game. And Joe loved capturing highlights so he could put them on the Internet. Noah, on the other hand, had stopped working to stand on the sidelines and track my every movement. I glanced in his direction before each play just to make sure he hadn’t moved. He never did, and I channeled all of my cabin fever and frustration into a spectacular fucking performance. Also known as me showing off for my crush like a varsity player on the high school’s field.
On our last play before the “clock” ran out, I intercepted the ball and rushed over ninety yards to score our last touchdown. The Barons exploded into cheers and applause, lifting me onto their shoulders. Across the lawn, I met Noah’s eyes. He was grinning big and clapping excitedly. He likely had no idea that I’d just gotten a pretty badass Pick 6—a touchdown scored from an interception—which was rare for a tight end, but he was celebrating hard. The warmth in my chest and butterflies in my gut made it plain as day that my miserable ass really fucking liked him. In the hand-holding kind of way, not just the ass-pounding way. Although I wanted to do that too.
Twenty-two football players crowded into the pool house to devour the food Noah had set out before dividing into three groups. The guys who wanted to play Madden, the guys who wanted to grill additional food while talking about football, and the few clowns who insisted on drunkenly riding a golf cart around the property. After a while, I banned them from the damn thing because they were being reckless. Getting injured at the start of the season was a bad fucking idea.
Noah overheard this exchange and grinned. I knew what he was thinking—that I was proving my secret kind side by being concerned about the other guys on the team—so I scowled. When he turned away, I kept staring at his back. Simeon caught me and smirked.
By the time our reunion ended, the guys were in high spirits as they separated to go visit their families; Jasmine had refused to give Marcus her number; and Joe and Mel were plotting what to do with the footage. I didn’t give a fuck, so I ignored them and helped Noah clean up.
The sun had already begun to set, but streams of deep golden light penetrated the bay windows as wind whipped off the ocean. The whole thing was way too cozy, and I couldn’t stop glancing at him. The way his hair looked lighter in the sun, and the meticulous way he folded tablecloths and stacked dishes. The way he mouthed lyrics to songs playing from the surround-sound system, and how he looked totally comfortable being here with me.
We finished cleaning up and went back to the mansion. He walked ahead of me, rushing to say goodbye to Jasmine and touch base with Joe and Mel. I couldn’t stop looking at his long legs and round ass. I was doomed.
After uttering a low thank-you to Jasmine and a faster farewell, I sprinted to my bedroom and stripped off my filthy clothes. Not only was I anxious to be under the ice-cold spray of water for the dozens of bruises and lacerations I’d picked up during the scrimmage, but I needed to turn off my adrenaline-fueled arousal.
Cold water should have done the trick, but the more I focused on not wanting to be horny, the hornier I fucking got. Especially now that I knew what Noah’s lips felt like beneath my own. How he tasted. The feel of his breath on me when I’d pulled away.
I closed my eyes, head pressed against the tile, and grabbed my dick. No amount of cold water was going to soften the length of my cock, and at this point, I didn’t want it to. I wanted to touch myself and pretend it was Noah.
I jerked off while water beat against my back, stroking with a grip so tight it would have been painful if my meat wasn’t so fucking hard. With a gaping mouth, harsh gasps, and a mind full of filth—Noah on his knees before me, suckling the head while stroking my shaft, or on all fours while slamming back on it—I came fast enough for it to catch me off guard. It rocketed through me and left me panting as my eyes teared and my lungs expanded to bursting. I hadn’t even nutted that hard for Max.
With sluggish movements, I finished washing up and stumbled out of the shower. My knees were weak, and tiredness from the grueling game was weighing on me. Even if I worked out all day, it was nothing compared to a full three hours of being on the field. The recent orgasm didn’t help my heavy eyelids. It was definitely time for a nap.
Or it would have been if I hadn’t left the bathroom to find Noah standing next to my bed. He had a first-aid kit in his hand and had likely been intending to drop it off before booking it out the door, but he froze. And those big blue eyes dipped to the tiny scrap of terry cloth currently covering my crotch.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I combed a hand through my wet hair and moved closer. “You don’t get to apologize about anything for at least a couple of weeks.”
Noah managed to look away from my towel. “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re VIP status right now. Untouchable. Protected by the football gods.”
A smile inched up the corner of his mouth. “Because of the scrimmage?”
“Because you made me fucking happier than I’ve been since I was drafted.”
“Oh. Wow.” He looked down at the blue box in his hands. “I was hoping it would cheer you up. I know it must be hard for you to be cut off this way.”
“Yeah. It is. But don’t you think I deserve it?”
Noah’s lips thinned. “I think you shouldn’t have punched the dude so hard, but I also understand why you did it.”
My hands balled into fists. “Simeon told you.”
“Yes. He did.” Noah exhaled slowly. “Anyway, patch yourself up. I didn’t realize how messed up you’d be after playing for fun. There’s a bruise on your back the size of England.”
I snorted. “This is nothing compared to a real game. We went easy on each other.”
“Right. Easy.” Noah brandished the first-aid kit. “Are you going to do it, or do I have to do it for you?”
“We both know I’m not too good at tending to myself.”
“You’re just trying to get me to patch you up while you lounge around mostly naked,” he accused.
Not denying this obvious truth, I sprawled on the bed and folded my hands behind my head. “Is there a massage included in this?”
“You wish, Gavin.”
He had no idea.
For the most part, it was impersonal. Sitting alongside me on the bed, he cleaned the worst of the cuts, like my raw knees and the various gashes that had come from being slammed into the ground, and dabbed them with ointment. I was bandaged and given a couple of pain relievers within fifteen minutes, the most unsexy nurse routine I’d ever witnessed, but it didn’t stop the series of mental images from floating through my mind. It didn’t help that his hands were lingering on my skin long after he’d finished. The tips of his fingers dragged over a raspberry colored bruise stretching along my side—by-product of being rammed by a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound linebacker.
“Let me kiss you again.”
“As a thank you for having a good day?”
“Yeah.” I sat up, causing his hand to fall away. “And because I liked it.”
He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at me with his fingers curling in the fabric of my sheets.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “That’s why it’s probably not a good idea.”