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But fuck, is he good at touching me.
His mouth.
His hands.
I shift again on the seat, and then Logan shoots out of the water again, and my dick is fully erect.
I should get out of here. This was a mistake.
Yet, I stay riveted to my seat, unable to tear my eyes away from him. I watch the entire game until the very end, and when it’s over, I sit and watch some more. I try not to drool as Logan pulls himself out of the water, slaps a teammate on the back, and smiles widely. He even has nice teeth. Perfection, that’s what he is. Everything about him is flawless.
I need to get up and walk away, but my ass is planted on this seat, and I’m squinting my eyes to make out the shape of his dick under that tiny spandex.
Shit. One more day until I can resort to sexual favors again. I know that without this arrangement, I’d never get the opportunity to see his cock. I’ve been fantasizing about it. I lie awake at night thinking about it. I felt it against me a couple times and I know what we did got him hard. I wonder if I can make him come, even if he’s not physically attracted to me.
It’s happened before, a long time ago. Although, that guy did close his eyes a lot. Logan never does. He always watches me carefully.
A small, niggling part of me thinks continuing with this entire thing is a bad idea, but then again, when has that ever stopped me? I usually do what I’m not supposed to. Plus, he’s a big boy and he agreed to this. If he really didn’t want to suck my dick or jack me off, he could have told me, and I would have let this whole thing go.
But I’m enjoying him a lot more than I thought I would, and I find myself hoping he enjoys it too.
Logan disappears through the locker room door, and I stand up quickly, needing to make my exit.
I get stuck behind people lingering in the stands, and the next thing I know, I hear my name being shouted from across the gym. It echoes off each corner with so much force that people turn to stare.
“Theo!” Logan shouts again.
I freeze, turning slightly, my cheeks flushed.
Fuck.
I point to myself, in case I’m wrong and he’s calling out to someone else—there are thousands of Theos in this world—but he just smiles widely and points and yells, “Yeah! You!”
Shit.
I watch in mortification as he jogs over to where I stand. His curly hair is still damp, and hell, he smells like watermelon.
“What are you doing here?” Logan asks, adjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder. “Do you know someone playing tonight?”
No, Logan. I came to see you, against my better judgment.
I swallow roughly and shrug. It’s best not to answer, but this guy is more intelligent than I thought because his eyebrows rise, and a slight smirk comes out to play.
“Oh.Oooh. Hell yeah. Did you come to see me play?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Never.”
My face flames as his lips pull up into a wide grin.
“Knew it. You’re a bad liar. What did you think? Impressive, right?”
I shrug and press the back of my cool hand to my hot cheek.
Fuck, I’m embarrassed.
Logan thinks this is fucking funny, too, because he nudges me and waggles his eyebrows like this is all a joke. He has no idea I hate being teased like this by guys like him. It triggers something ugly inside of me.
“You saw my abs the other night and had to see the rest of me, huh?”
