We head back in. No more drinks; we’re belligerent enough. We dance our faces off for another forty minutes. Our entire group is sweaty and messy. And all over the place.
At exactly midnight, I grab Evan. Nate grabs Christina. We sneak toward the exit while everyone else is still deep in some trance, jumping up to the music.
Outside, Evan says, “We’re really not saying goodbye?”
I shake my head. “Does it look like I’m saying goodbye?”
Christina grins. “Smart. Last thing we need is them convincing us to stay.”
I stretch. “I agree, I can be easily persuaded. Let’s head home. I need to pass out.” Evan and Christina nod in agreement.
Nate looks over at me, with his eyes low, lips curled into a sly smile, and I know exactly what’s on his mind.
When all four of us stumble into my massive apartment, Evan and Christina immediately raid the kitchen for snacks and disappear into the furthest guest room with some bags of chips and pretzels.
I glance at Nate, grab his hand when no one’s looking, and pull him into my bedroom. I toss him onto the bed and grin. “Wait here. Give me two minutes.”
I rush into the bathroom to clean up and get myself ready for him. When I come back, his pants are already off, his underwear around his ankles, and his shirt tossed on the floor. His tight, cut body is on full display, and the sight of him sends a thrill straight through me.
I climb onto the bed and on top of him, kissing him like I can’t help myself. He flips me over and climbs on top, kissing me even harder, just as turned on as I am.
His hand reaches for my bedside drawer, pulling it open, and grabs the lube. Nate nudges me to roll over, as he what feels like, empties the entire bottle of lube on my hole. He begins to massage the area and slowly inserts one finger. Not soon after, he slips his second finger in. After only a few seconds, he stops and says, “Ready?”
“I’ve been ready, babe, but thanks for warming me up.” I snark.
He rolls me over to a spooning position and comes up behind me with his fully erect dick. I feel both hands on my shoulders, as the pressure of his dick inside me mounts. It feels so good, I can’t help but move my ass back towards him for more. Nate starts slow, but gradually increases his speed and thrusts.
With each thrust, I let out a louder moan. Each time Nate slows down and whispers, “Shush.”
“I can’t help it; it just feels so good,” I groan.
After only two full minutes, I can feel Nate's body tense up. I take this moment to start stroking myself, knowing it's almost time for Nate to finish inside me. Right on cue, I feel Nate’s legs quiver and warmth spurts inside my body.
Nate, acknowledging that I haven’t finished, keeps thrusting for a few more seconds. After the third thrust, Nate covers my mouth with his hand, sensing I am going to moan. He is right,I let out a loud moan behind his hand, and release all over the sheets.
Nate slips out of me, and we both roll on our backs, next to each other. Nate looks at me and says, “We need to start putting a towel down.”
I smile and say, “That we do, bae, that we do.”
We are both so tired and discreetly rush to the bathroom for a quick shower. After our quick shower, we hop into our pajamas and get under the covers.
Nate looks at me with so much love in his eyes and says, “I love you. And I’m so proud of you.”
I smile at him, heart full, and reply, “I love you more. And bae? Thank you for being there for me tonight.”
Nate gives me one last sleepy smile as he starts to drift off, and I follow right behind him, feeling more at peace than I’ve ever felt in my life.
***
I wake up at 11 a.m., giving me about two hours before I need to head to the Hawks' facility for a light practice. My head is pounding, and I stumble my way to the bathroom, half-awake and miserably hungover.
After taking a piss, I peek into the guest room to check on Evan and Christina. They’re passed out, snoring loudly. Clearly, all four of us went way too hard last night.
I shuffle back into the bedroom to kiss my sleeping boyfriend. Not ready to wake Nate just yet, I grab my phone to see if the night out has officially turned me into a public pariah. Lo and behold, I have tons of messages.
Most are from my teammates, a few from my family, and one from the Hawks Public Relations Department. But the one that immediately spikes my anxiety is a text from CarlosHernandez, the general manager of the Hawks. All the text reads is'Let’scatch up.' The email provides no details about the meeting's subject matter.
What does he want to talk about? Is he pissed? Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. I’ve never spoken to him one-on-one, just passed him in the hallways a few times. He’s always on his phone or talking to someone.
