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“Nice? Come on, being in a locker room with naked guys is practically your job. I’m sure you’ve seen dozens of dicks. Tell me mine doesn’t sound spectacular.”
“I guess. I mean, I haven’t really compared…dicks.” I run my fingers through my hair, smoothing non-existent tangles just to give my hand something to do.
“Have you touched one? Besides your own?”
“No. I mean, I’ve seen guys touch theirs before, but...”
“Ooh, do tell.”
The gleam in his eye has me talking before I can think better of it. “I spend forty nights a year in hotel rooms with a roommate. Privacy is hard to come by.”
“So, you’ve watched people jerk off but never jerked anyone off?”
I have no idea how he connected the dots so fast, but he’s not wrong, and I feel my face heat as I answer. “Yeah.”
“That embarrasses you?”
“I probably shouldn’t have admitted that. It’s not the kind of thing my teammates would want people to know.” I bite my lip to stop it from flapping.
“We aren’t talking about them, we're talking about you. Did you like watching?”
“I mean, I didn’t hate it. It didn’t do much for me though.” Our star forward, Luca, needs to get off before games, and he usually needs an audience to cross the finish. More often than not that audience is me, because the act doesn’t make me as uncomfortable as it does some of the other guys. What the team doesn’t know, what I’ve never told them or anyone, is that I’m indifferent to the whole experience.
I’ve watched Luca fuck women and jerk himself off, and I didn’t react to either situation. I wanted to—so much that I’d have been happy to get excited by either or both scenarios—but I didn’t. On the surface the logical conclusion is watching other guys doesn’t do it for me, especially if that guy is a teammate, but since the women didn’t affect me either… I’ve made an effort to focus on hockey instead of attempting to answer why that is.
“So, you aren’t into dicks?” Tripp almost sounds disappointed as he puffs out his lip in goofy pout, though whether that’s real or for show I have no idea.
“Not my teammates. They’re like brothers to me.”
“If it’s not a teammate, you’d be into it then? Touching one?” That mischievous grin is back.
“Why, you offering?”
When Tripp doesn’t laugh at my joke, I wonder which one of us missed the punchline. “Hell yeah, I’m offering. Take it out if you want.”
I’m the one who missed the punchline. Great. “While I’m sure it’s every bit as spectacular as you say, I’m good.”
“You sure?” He smooths his hands over his shorts, emphasizing the bulge between his legs, and for a second there I’d swear I feel some sort of twinge between mine. Was that? No, it couldn’t be.
“I’m sure.”
“Suit yourself.” He hops off the trunk and walks to the driver’s side door, not even attempting to hide the fact his shorts are tented. “In case you change your mind, there’s no expiration date on that offer. See you around.” He winks at me before falling into the seat and driving off, which should make me feel relieved. Instead, I’m more confused than ever.
Did my cock just try to come alive around Tripp? Did I want it to?
Chapter 4 - Tripp
Something is seriously wrong with me.
It’s been well over a month since Noah almost touched me, and in that time no one else has seen me naked, much less been close enough to put their hands on me. If anyone knew I haven’t been railed in weeks they’d have me on a therapist’s couch faster than I can drop my pants and bend over. Fortunately, summer means vacation, so people I’d normally see on a regular basis aren’t around to notice my dry spell.
Even Xander, who’s been in Sweden visiting Niko’s family for the last few weeks. I’m almost disappointed he gets home tomorrow. He’ll undoubtedly notice when I don’t bombard him with tales of my escapades during his absence.
Yes, I’ve had this weird infatuation with the big guy since I first saw him, and yes, I tempered my antics after we met. But I wasn’t celibate. I thought that word had been stricken from my vocabulary, yet since Noah nearly touched me in his driveway, my dick hasn't received any attention. By choice… I might as well have joined a convent.
I’ve replayed the encounter in my head more times than I care to admit. When Noah’s skin nearly brushed over mine, I swear every nerve perked up, like someone hollered out free condoms. My entire body prickled with awareness, and the spot where he nearly made contact seemed to sizzle like an invisible current flowed between us.
No, not a current, a seismic force, like the damn tractor beam from Xander’s space movies. It had me fully in its grasp, helpless to resist. My lungs seized up, and not from some coy attempt to hold my breath. I wanted his touch so bad, and didn’t want the subtle rise of my chest to spook him. I think I might’ve prayed to a God I don’t believe in for Noah to lay his hands on me, and when he didn’t… When he resisted the pull…it nearly killed me.
