Chapter 5: Hidden Scars: Chapter 4

beat.

Muscles I didn’t know I have are tired. We have two weeks to pull our shit together before our exhibition game against University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and with the extra practices and workouts Coach added this week, homework has been a bitch to keep up on. Of course, our first game is an away game so we’ll be in a hotel. Hopefully, someone else will be stuck with mister fucking perfect Carmichael.

He’s so weird. I’ve never seen him shower or change in the locker room, he just shows up changed and showers at the dorm. I don’t get it. The man is quick to tell us all how much we suck, yet no one calls him on it. It’s like what he says is law.

An hour before practice, I’m sitting in the locker room waiting for Brendon. We’ve tried to hook up a few times but our roommates keep interrupting. Today, we’re trying this. Maybe getting off right before practice will help me keep a calmer head and Carmichael won’t get to me as much. It’s worth a shot, right?

The door squeaks open and Brendon walks into view.

A smile lifts my lips and he grins at me. About fucking time.

When he gets to me, I stand and we head for the showers. It gives us an extra few seconds in case someone comes in early.

Brendon backs me into a corner, kissing and sucking on my neck. My dick is hard when he runs a hand over my pants.

“Someone’s eager,” he snickers into my skin.

“Yeah, I am. Hurry up before we get caught.” My stomach drops at the idea of someone walking in, the awkwardness and possible hostility from a few guys on the team. Most don’t know Brendon is bi, the few that do keep the secret for him.

He grips my ass and pulls me against him, taking my lips in a hard kiss and grinding against me.

God damn it. Focus.

I slide my hands under Brendon’s shirt, dragging my fingers over his skin and sliding into his pants.

He groans against me, pulling his lips from mine.

“You want to fuck?” Brendon lifts a lube packet.

“Yeah,” I’m breathing faster and spin around, pushing my pants and boxer briefs down, then putting my palms on the wall next to the shower entrance.

My dick isn’t as hard as it normally is at the idea of getting laid but I’m trying really hard not to think about it.

Brendon’s slicked finger slides against my hole and pushes inside. He takes a few minutes to work me open, one finger becoming two, pushing in and out.

“You ready?” he asks, his mouth next to my ear. Asking permission is not what I want. I want him to hold me down and take what he wants, but he’s too nice for it.

The head of his cock pushes against me and I push back hard enough to surprise him. Taking all of him in one thrust.

“Fuck, dude.” He grips my hips and drops his forehead to my shoulder, thrusting slowly at first.

“Just fuck me, I don’t need slow,” I grit out, dropping my forearm to the tiled wall and wrapping a hand around my dick. Brendon’s ragged breath fans across my neck while I jerk myself too hard. Fuck.

I close my eyes and Preston appears in my head. Fucking A.

. I don’t even know if he’s into guys. If he’s straight, I really, need to stop thinking about him.

Plus, he’s an asshole.

The squeak of the locker door opening has me pausing but Brendon doesn’t seem to notice. Soft footsteps pad across the cement floor while my heart pounds in my chest. We’re about to get caught. Fuck. I lean slightly so I can see who walks in.

My damn roommate appears around the corner at the same time Brendon grunts. Preston stops moving and takes a step back, peering around the corner until he finds me. I don’t know if he can see who’s with me but he lifts an eyebrow and watches me watching him. My cheeks flush and cold fear floods my stomach. Jerking back, I stand back up straight so I can’t see him.

Why is my dick getting harder?

My breathing is ragged and it has nothing to do with Brendon pumping into my ass.

Footsteps are quiet and movement from the corner of my eye has me focusing on Preston leaning against a bank of lockers. In the six-inch gap between the wall and the lockers, I see him. He centers himself in the space so I can see him from head to toe, but only a strip of him. His hand slides down his abdomen and into his base layer compression leggings. My gaze focuses hard on the show he’s putting on.

Pulling his dick out of his pants, he strokes himself, already hard as fuck. My tongue drags across my lower lip at the drop of precum glistening on his tip.

My own cock throbs and arousal hums through my veins as I watch him jacking off to me getting fucked. Jesus, what is happening?

I’m not questioning it. Wrapping my hand around my dick once again, I pump fast. My eyes locked on Preston’s like he’s told me not to look away. He’s holding me there, demanding my attention without a word. His neck flushes, the blush of lust climbing up his jaw onto his cheeks. He bites his lower lip while his hips thrust into his hand.

Oh, fuck, I’m going to cum. The electricity shoots through me, my balls tingling and drawing up into me. Cum splatters on the wall in front of me with a groan from my chest. Holy fuck. My knees want to give out. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before.

Preston cums, dripping on the floor of the locker room and not giving a shit about the mess. Brendon grunts behind me, filling the condom and almost collapsing against me.

“Damn, that was good.”

Unease kills the post orgasm high, but I give him a “yeah,” while he cleans up and I pull my pants up.

He leaves the shower area before I do but stops short at Preston standing there with his arms over his chest.

“Oh, uh. Hey, man.” Brendon crosses his arms over his chest too. From calm and relaxed to tense and unsure in an instant. The uncertainty hangs in the air around us like a damn weight. We don’t know how Preston will react to this but I have a feeling it’s not too bad since he obviously enjoyed it. Though Brendon doesn’t know that.

Preston just raises an eyebrow at us but says nothing. Dude is weird.

“Come on, let’s get ready for practice,” I push Brendon toward his locker. From the corner of my eye, I watch the smirk twist Preston’s face but I keep moving. I’m not starting a fight right now. I’m pulling my shirt over my head when my phone rings in my pocket. Digging it out, my older sister Stacy’s picture is on the screen.

“Hey, what’s up? How’s my favorite girl doing?” Her scoff at my reference to her daughter makes me chuckle.

“You would ask about Ella first. Ass.” The little girl in question babbles in the background, trying so hard to speak. “She’s teething so it’s a real joy around here.”

“Aww poor baby. She needs her favorite uncle and some chocolate ice cream.” I slide my jeans and boxer briefs off, and grab my compression shorts.

“Better not let Keith hear you say that. He’ll fight you for favorite uncle.” Our little brother plays football and thinks he’s a badass, especially when his twin backs him up since he also plays. They’re both smaller than me, and even together, I can take them.

“Keith isn’t even Jordan’s favorite and they’re twins.” I hold the phone against my shoulder while I sit on the bench and shove my feet through the tight fabric of the compression shorts and stand to pull them up. “I’m getting ready for practice, did you need something or can I call you later?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. I just wanted to know if you were coming home for Mom’s birthday?”

Fuck.

“Uh, let me look at the schedule but I doubt it. I think we have away games that weekend.” Guilt eats at me. This will be the first year I don’t see her for her birthday. It’s during the season but when I lived in Muskegon, where the team I played for was located, I was able to see her. The best I’ll probably be able to do this year is video chat with her.

“Okay, let me know. If we can surprise her, I would like to. If you’ve got a game close to here, I’ll surprise her with tickets to the game.”

Guys start filing into the locker room, loud and rowdy.

“Okay, I’ll let you know. Tell Ella her favorite uncle says he loves her.”

She laughs and ends the call.

“Your sister single yet?” Paul asks, a shit eating grin splitting his face when I glare at him.

“Fuck off. Even if she was, she wouldn’t date your lame ass.” I finish getting my gear on and we file out onto the ice.