Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Oh, that made sense, but… “Not really, because I’m better than everyone else. It’s almost like being with a god.”
He shook his head but grinned. “You know what I mean. Right now, I can lie to myself, but if we do this, I won’t be able to go back. How will I be able to be with women or go without having a man again? At least this way I can’t miss what I haven’t had.”
I closed my eyes, sadness pulling me under, drowning me. For him. He shouldn’t have to live that way. It shouldn’t fucking matter. “Football is worth that much to you?”
“Football is who I am.” He always said that, but it wasn’t. It so fucking wasn’t.
“One night. Give me one night with you. I’ll fucking cherish you as I ravage you from head to toe. You deserve one night.” I shouldn’t have said it. The words were another mark in the Selfish-Weston category. He was afraid of having it and missing it, and there I was, begging to have him, but fuck, I wanted him to know what it could be like. I wanted to give him one perfect night.
We watched each other, Anson’s eyes holding me, searching me, prying open places others never looked. After what felt like an eternity, he said the word I’d been dying to hear. “Yes.”
Chapter Fifteen
Anson
As it turned out, planning a night together was easier said than done. It was the beginning of November, and I had a game coming up, while Weston had important work to do in California. The week after that, he was in session all week and couldn’t leave DC, which was extremely strange to think about. I was trying to make time to have sex with a senator. Someone who was in session and had constituents to work for, someone bound by Congress’s schedule.
That, of course, led to thoughts about what we were planning. I hadn’t asked if our night together would include dick-in-ass sex. If so, did he want to put his dick in me? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It seemed like something I would need to work up to, but there wouldn’t be time if we only had one night. So yeah, my brain was a whirlwind of thoughts, not just about when we could meet, but what we would do.
The week before Thanksgiving was my bye week. The team had no games or practices. Weston wasn’t in DC that week, and he said he could likely move some things around in his schedule. We hadn’t discussed if I’d be going to California or if he would come to Georgia, but we were going to make it happen. It was all I’d been able to think of since we’d spoken the previous night.
“Hawkins! Get your fucking head in it!” Coach Jones called, and I cursed. Fuck. I really needed to get my shit together.
“Sorry. I’m good,” I called back. I busted my ass the rest of practice, and after that, Coach made me run extra drills for spacing out. We hadn’t even finalized our plans yet, and I still had a couple of weeks until I could see him, but he was always on my mind.
By the time I made it to the locker room, pulling off my heavy practice gear as I went, Darren was the only player left.
“What’s going on with you?” He thumped the side of my head.
“Ouch, fucker.” We played around, grappling with each other for a minute. It was a moment where I felt like me, where I wasn’t stressing out about a guy and what it meant for me to actually have the chance to do something I’d thought about my whole life. Which, of course, made me think about my arrangement with Weston again. I wondered how Darren would feel if he knew. Would he be one of those guys who were uncomfortable being in the locker room with me? Would he not want to play around with me the way we were? That would be fucking stupid. Being attracted to men didn’t mean I wanted every man I saw. In fact, there was only one man I wanted…
“Seriously, bro, what’s up?” he asked when we separated. I sat down on the bench.
“Nothing.”
“It doesn’t look like nothing. You’re my boy, you know that, right? We can talk and shit.”
I chuckled. “We can talk and shit, huh?”
“You know what I mean.”
Yeah, I did. But I couldn’t tell him this.
Darren plopped down on the bench beside me, two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle, and nudged me. “So…the hookup?” My head whipped around, and he waggled his eyebrows at me.
He knew. How the fuck did he know? I was sweating bullets. My head thudded like someone was trying to tackle me from the inside. “I… How…”