Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 235(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
And holy fuck! I felt like Alice slipping into a wonderland. The vast array of options and subcategories was overwhelming. Sure, some of it was unappealing, but I felt that way about hetero porn too. After thirty minutes of mindless scrolling with my cock getting harder by the second, I gave in to temptation. I locked my door, pushed my workout shorts and boxer briefs down, and jacked off to two muscular hunks fucking on the floor in a warehouse. Suffice it to say, I didn’t last long. I shivered uncontrollably when my orgasm hit just as the guy on the bottom gripped his lover’s ass and begged him to come inside him. Bam! He might as well have been talking to me. Cum hit my chin and the keys on my laptop. I panted, then slumped in my desk chair while imaginary stars and birds circled my head. I’d clearly been missing some of the best orgasms of my life.
That meant I had to be bi. Okay, fine. I knew I was bi. I just didn’t want to be. Wanting to be with a guy wasn’t something I could easily explain. My parents wouldn’t understand. Mom especially. I remembered the way she looked at me when she caught me staring at my cousin’s boyfriend at a wedding reception when I was sixteen. Suspicious and maybe a little worried too. I’d felt the same way, and it scared the hell out of me, so I focused on my sport and only dated women. No doubt it was why I’d stayed with Amanda for so long. She was safe. And everything about being attracted to men was dangerous and messy. I didn’t do well with messes. Obviously.
Admitting who I was to myself was a good first step, but I couldn’t act on it. Not now, anyway. It was more important to find a way to coexist with Gabe. And ideally, not get hard every time he looked at me. That was easy enough since we did what any two guys in our situation would do; we ignored each other.
At first I was relieved. But after a couple of weeks, relief turned to annoyance. While Gabe made new friends and alliances with my guys, I silently stewed…torn between admiring his resolve and hot body and being irritated that I was the only one affected by that night.
Then one Friday morning, it all came to a head.
Practice began the way it did every day. We might do ten new drills, scrimmage with local teams, spice up our routine with a run on the beach, or spend extra time in the weight room, but we always began with laps. A lot of laps. I didn’t mind. There was nothing quite like cutting through the pool at a fast clip before sunrise. The cool water felt invigorating and in a weird way, life affirming. Like being the first to step in newly fallen snow. Five laps in, my head cleared and my thoughts evened out. I felt stronger with each turn and more focused than I’d been in weeks.
The return to calm was nice while it lasted. But the second Coach blew his whistle, signaling the beginning of our first round of drills, my pulse jumped into overdrive. I hadn’t seen Gabe yet that morning, but I knew he was a swim lane or two away. I spotted him near the net, tossing the ball with Troy. He was wearing a blue cap, number five. I dove sideways to catch an errant pass and did a double take. Wait a second…that’s my number.
I motioned for my passing partner to hold the ball, then swam toward Gabe.
“Hey. How’s it going?” I asked in a friendly tone.
“Good,” he replied, keeping his gaze straight ahead. When I didn’t speak or move on, he shot a sideways glance at me. “Did you need something?”
“Um. Actually, yeah…I need my cap.” I gestured toward his head. Then I swam in front of him, intercepted the ball, and threw it to Troy before turning to Gabe with my hand outstretched.
He flashed a lopsided smile and shook his head. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Vaughn. Looks like it’s mine now.”
In a perfect world, I would have laughed off his insolence and pretended to understand his warped sense of humor. I might have even made the effort to find him a different cap and then brought our teammates into the discussion, publicly anointing Gabe’s new number. I could have made it funny and best of all, the “welcoming” duties I’d avoided for three weeks as captain would have been complete. There were so many ways to maturely turn this to my advantage and shine as a leader.
Unfortunately, I saw red.
The haze of anger was so strong, it was impossible to think or see straight. I didn’t give a fuck about the cap. I just wanted to wipe the smirk off his face. So I did what any rational person would do when he’s been pushed a smidge too far. I jumped on top of Gabe and wrestled the damn cap off his head. And because he was a complete asshole, he fought back. He pulled me under and grabbed the cap from my hand, then shoved me hard. I caught his foot and yanked him with me before swimming to the surface for a gulp of fresh air. The water churned around us angrily. We probably looked like a couple of sharks battling over dinner. The crazed, frustrated energy in no way fit the crime. This was personal.