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“Oh.” He scanned the place again with the new information. “It’s really messy in here.”
“You think?” I frowned. “I tried to clean it up. It’s not that bad, is it?”
“It’s just disorganized. If you put those boxes on the shelves you’d have more room for those carts,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “Then you could open the door all the way.”
I grunted. “Don’t guess you want an equipment manager job.”
“Hard pass. I’ll help you move them, though. For a price.”
I smirked. “Yeah, name it.”
He slid his eyes over me, inspecting, examining, a little curious, like my uniform was baffling him a little, but he definitely still wanted it. “Can I—”
“Yeah,” I blurted out, interrupting him. “Whatever you want. Do it. Sold. Green. Gray. Peel my clothes off. Suck my dick. Organize the shelves, I don’t care.”
His eyes lit up, part laughing, part definitely not, and he came toward me, reaching out and groping across my abs, up my ribs, rubbing his thumbs across my nipples and exploring my pads a little, shoving his fingers underneath, tugging them around on my shoulders.
“Hot,” he finally said, and I grinned, glad I’d dragged them back on even though they were heavy and sweaty. “Show me the rest.”
He barely stepped back enough to give me room, but I slid my hands down and opened up my pants, spreading the fly and letting him look at the elastic band, get a glimpse of the pouch, just enough to get him going before he reached out and tugged them down more, halfway down my thighs, and then stepped back and stared.
Guys looked good in jocks, that was nothing new. Made your v look like a fucking welcome mat and made every ass look like a bubble butt. If you were already slamming, it made you look even better. I knew I looked like a god.
“Fuck,” he breathed out long and slow, reaching for the waistband and dragging his fingers across the top, so light it tickled a little and I shivered even though it was a million degrees. “I should have dipped into your backpack stash. I’d kill to fuck you right now.”
My grin got wider. Cockier. God, I loved hearing him talk like that, fucking bookworm Caleb Heath all nasty for my ass. Incredible.
“Next time. I’ll get stuck with clean up again. I’m a fuck up.”
He lifted his eyes up from my jock to my face. “What did you do?” he asked me, like he was finally putting together that clean up was an actual punishment.
I shrugged. Truth was, nothing much, nothing too terrible anyway, but this seemed like a truth-stretching situation if there ever was one. “Missing cues. Being lazy. Thinking about my boyfriend instead of keeping my head in the game.”
It felt a little awkward saying that, a little embarrassing maybe. Thatboyfriendword didn’t come natural, even when I was kind of fucking around, but it was worth the cringe to see the surprise on his face, the dirty smile.
“Is that right.”
“Yeah. Got knocked me on my ass like a dozen times because I wasn’t paying attention. Coach T wasn’t happy.”
“Sounds like you weren’t giving a hundred and ten percent… Prescott.”
He said my name with the same kind of hesitation I saidboyfriend, like it wasn’t totally familiar, and it did sound strange coming out of his mouth, teamspeak when he wasn’t a team guy. But he hit the letters hard, hissing and strict-like, and I swear I’d never paid that much attention to how anyone pronounced me before.
I shook my head and licked my lips. My mouth was dry and my face was hot and it wasn’t just because the equipment shed was a sauna. Mostly I’d forgotten where we even were, everything was a little blurry around the edges like this was more dream than reality.
Usually fooling around got me amped up, dialed in. But I just felt something real different with him, the way he looked me over just wiped out half my brain and filled it with cotton candy or some shit, turned me all drooling and stupid and greedy and soft and I’d have missed a semi driving through the side of the building probably because I was screamingmoreso loud in my head.
“Yeah, I was slacking big time,” I told him, and that wasn’t entirely true, but Ihadended up on clean up, so maybe it was truer than I thought. I was slacking more than I usually did, that was for sure. I didn’t have a lot of off days, even tired, even hurt.
“Well, we can’t have that,” he told me, crowding closer, dropping his shadow over my whole body when he looked down at me. “Not when you’re working so hard to stay on the team.”
He stroked his thumbs over my hips and curled his fingers around, teasing the elastic in the back, groping at my bare ass and swallowing so hard I saw it in his throat. He was so not ready to see how good I looked in a jock and I almost laughed, but the steady serious way he held my eyes kept me from it.
“You’re not gonna spank me, are you? In my uniform? At school? That’s so embarrassing.”
Role play, yeah, not really my strength, and my flirty virgin shit was not convincing anybody. But I liked the way he grinned, not so much laughing at my effort as enjoying it, and he yanked me closer.
“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You need some discipline to keep you on track. Might be embarrassing, but you need to learn your lesson.”
