Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“But I don’t care about football,” I said, and then realized my words had been said aloud.
“So you told me,” Jacob answered. He stopped. “Well. We’re back.”
I looked around, surprised to discover that Jacob was right. We were back at the Manhattan, which seemed to have gotten infinitely busier while we were gone. Jacob didn’t move.
“Oh,” I finally said.
“But…” Jacob said, as he pulled a key ring out of his pockets. I tensed— he wasn’t going to ask me to his apartment, was he? Just because I’d been thinking about my mouth on his cock didn’t mean I wasn’t totally overwhelmed by the idea of being in his home.
“I could show you something, if you want. Something I promise will be void of football and any further mentions of sexual favors,” he said.
“What is it?” I asked. “And don’t say it’s a surprise. I’ve seen enough 20/20 reports to know better.”
Jacob looked exasperated— he clearly had intended to say it was a surprise— but then said, “I have access to all the athletic buildings on campus after hours, including the pool in the alumni resort.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’ll have to see for yourself— it’s not a surprise. I just can’t explain it. I’m a lowly accountant, remember?” Jacob said. “Want to go?”
I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
The alumni resort was an enormous building that had clearly belonged to someone exceedingly wealthy— like, visiting royalty wealthy— at one time. It had been divided into rooms named after star alumni of the past, specifically, I suspected, those who had donated an insane amount of money to the school. We entered the main doors— no key needed— and brushed past a concierge who nodded and smiled at Jacob, then returned to his phone. I slowed down without entirely realizing it— it felt like I was in a movie. Gold and green decorations everywhere, ornate versions of the Harton Ram mascot on the stair rail, a fireplace with a portrait of the school’s and dozens of tufted leather armchairs surrounding it.
“I forget how nice it all is,” Jacob said, and I turned to look at him. He was smiling, watching me. “I’m used to being here. At this school. On the team. I forget how nice it all is.”
“I don’t see how,” I said, turning back. I heard Jacob exhale and then felt his hand slide over mine. My own fingers were tiny in his, and when I looked down, I realized he easily encapsulated my entire palm.
“Come on,” he said. “It gets better.”
He led me down a grand staircase, then through a spa-like locker room.
Finally, Jacob had a need for his key— there was a sign on the door ahead that said “Pool and Spa Open 6AM-9PM”. Jacob unlocked the door pushed through, guiding me through first.
“Oh my god,” I said, eyes going wide. It was the kind of pool that five star resorts have— salt water, I suspected, based on the cheerful acidic scent. The tile surrounding the pool was, of course, green and gold, and the lights underneath the water made them sparkle like gems. Above them were stars— the pool had a glass, greenhouse like roof and walls, which were surrounded by roses on the exterior, blocking the pool from view.
“I have never in my life stood somewhere this nice,” I said, overwhelmed. I turned to face him. “You can come here any time you want? Seriously?”
“Football star perk,” Jacob said, grinning. “I usually use it to swim laps, honestly. The pool tends to get crowded with fans when I go swimming.”
“Ah, the struggle,” I said, shaking my head, but I couldn’t stop the smile from taking over my face.
Jacob laughed and then sat down on one of the teak lounges. He immediately began taking off his shoes. I watched for a moment, then sat down on the one opposite and removed my shoes as well— it’d be nice to say I’d literally dipped my toes in the pool of wealth and fame.
But then, Jacob stood and stripped off his shirt.
It caught me by such surprise that I simply stared for a moment, first at the act itself, then at him. He looked like a statue, not a person— carved and muscled and smooth like marble. I wanted to drag my fingers along the lines of his stomach, the valleys underneath his hipbones, the place where his chest muscles curved up and met with his shoulders.
Jacob gave me a cocky smile that I almost missed, being so focused on his body rather than his face.
I tried to come up with something to say that would redeem me, but my mind felt empty. This seemed to further satisfy Jacob who, after studying me for a moment, unbuttoned his pants.
“What are you doing?” I asked frantically.
Jacob looked up, still smiling— he was always so damn pleased with himself. “Going swimming.”