Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Brad reaches in his collar, grabbing hold of his necklace again.
As he pushes off me, there’s still a buzz from him being up on me, but now it’s like my body wants him back on me, craving that sensation again. I’m fucking empty inside without it.
What the fuck are you doing to me, Brad Henning?
As I try to get up in a way that’ll make my hard-on less obvious, I notice his isn’t as bad, maybe because of whatever the hell he’s doing with his necklace. Frustratingly, I’m the one who ends up getting looks and chuckles from the others on our team.
“Look who’s getting hot and bothered from all the action,” Alexei teases as we get into positions for our next play.
I roll my eyes, my gaze turning to the bleachers, where one lone student sits in the stands beside a backpack.
The guy looks familiar. Shorter than me, with blond hair. When I see him, he’s typically with Brad and Seth, but I can’t remember his name.
He’s too far away for me to be sure, but I have this feeling he’s looking at me.
He tilts his head, and Ross, our team captain, calls my name, pulling me back into the game.
I don’t give the guy in the stands much thought until the game’s over, but when I look for him, he’s gone, which gives me an uneasy feeling. Of course, most things do when it comes to that crew.
After the game—which my team lost—I head back to the dorm to shower off. While I’m scrubbing myself down, I notice my dick’s still a little aroused as my thoughts keep returning to the moment when Brad was lying on top of me. It felt good to have his weight on me.
Fuck, no, I hate that asshole. And I’m fucking straight!
But the more I fight it, the harder I seem to get.
I give my cock a stroke, closing my eyes and imagining Brad pulling back the curtain and coming in here, pushing against me, locking his lips against mine.
I hate myself for the fantasy, but I can’t help what my dick wants right now.
I give my cock another stroke, when suddenly my fantasy shifts, and I’m a kid with Mom and Dad at Christmastime.
The hell?
Flashes of memories with my parents come flooding back. I’m very young. Making Dad’s birthday cake with Mom. Going out to picnics at the lake.
My mind’s out of control, taking me back through vivid scenes from my past.
I press my hand against the shower wall, taking deep breaths as I try to push them back, but the memories come even stronger than before.
I’m at the hospital with Mom. I can see in her teary eyes that the news isn’t good. What’s wrong with Dad? A familiar grief overtakes me. I’m back in that nightmarish moment.
As I struggle to pull myself from the scene, the image of the guy from the bleachers pops up.
Blond locks.
Eyes closed.
He’s muttering something.
I focus on this scene, hoping that will keep me from going back to the memory.
He’s in a dark room, kneeling on the cement floor in a chalked-out pentagram.
“I’m so sorry, Luke,” Mom says, straining to go on.
“No,” I say, returning to the image of the guy from the bleachers, seeing him muttering to himself, sweat beading down his forehead.
What the fuck are you doing?
In an instant I’m struck by searing pain that cuts through me, straight into my soul. I know this pain so well…the depths of despair. I collapse against the shower wall, steadily sinking to the floor as memories haunt me.
“Daddy’s not gonna be okay, sweetie.”
“Stop it!” I scream, thrashing about.
My words seem to summon the blond guy once again. His eyes pop open and he gasps, and then it’s like I’ve been shot in the chest, my body propelled into the shower wall.
It takes me a moment to realize the hit knocked the wind out of me, and as I struggle to get some air back into my lungs, the shower curtain is drawn open.
Alexei stands outside, a towel around his waist, wide-eyed with worry. “Dude, you okay? What’s wrong?”
I pat at my chest, straining, and he rushes in to help me to my feet. I finally catch my first bit of breath when he has me out of the shower.
A bunch of the guys are standing around us in a semicircle, including Seth and Brad.
Despite the discomfort of having the wind knocked out of me, my mind has quieted from the memories, but I can’t shake the image of their friend. Cody. Somehow I suddenly fucking know it like I know my own name.
But how is that fucking possible?
As my breathing steadies, everyone seems to ease up. Alexei helps me to my locker and into my clothes. “We should get you checked out at the clinic.”
“It’s okay. I’m feeling better.”