The Quarterback by Tal Bauer

Chapter Twenty

Nick stoppedat Colton’s cubicle on Friday afternoon, leaning against the side of the desk. Colton’s gaze lasered to his ass, cradled in form-fitting khaki, before gliding up Nick’s body. “Hey, you.”

Nick’s eyes met his, then bounced away. His hands were in his pockets, jiggling like he was shaking change or bouncing his keys. “I’m going to head home early.”

“Yeah?” Colton frowned. “You okay? Something at lunch bother you?”

“I’m good.” Nick shook his head quickly. His eyes darted to Colton, then shifted away again. “I have some stuff to do at home.”

“Oh, I’ll help. What do you—”

“No.” Nick cut him off. “No, what I have to do is for you.” Finally, his gaze landed on Colton’s and stayed.

Oceans boiled in Nick’s dark eyes, filled with an intensity Colton had never seen before. Hunger blazed from him, and his eyes flicked down Colton’s body before sliding back up and stalling at Colton’s parted lips.

Nick swallowed. “Do you still want to—”

Nick hadn’t said a word about what Colton had asked him for in his back seat. They’d fallen into bed after the fair, too tired to do much more than kiss and cuddle before falling asleep in each other’s arms. The next nights, they’d stuck to their routine: football in the park and then dinner on the balcony. Some Netflix and PlayStation. In bed, they’d traded blow jobs and made out. One night, Nick had eaten his ass for almost half an hour, and Colton thought it might be a prelude to something more, but no. The most Nick had done was trace his finger around the rim of his hole as he was blowing Colton.

Colton hadn’t wanted to bring it up again. It was hard enough to ask the first time. He’d said what he wanted, and now Nick knew.

Maybe Nick had thought about it and decided he didn’t really want that with Colton. Or maybe he’d been humoring Colton that night. Maybe it was one of those things that never got mentioned again. Which was okay. He’d be okay if Nick didn’t want to make love to him like that. Maybe a little bit empty, in some way, always craving more of Nick than what he was given, but he’d be okay.

But… “Yes. I do.”

Nick nodded. “I’m going to go, um…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

Colton checked the time. Just after three p.m. Two hours, if he managed to stay at the office until five. “Okay. Should I—”

Nick put his hand on Colton’s chest, stilling him. Colton froze. They didn’t touch at the office. At least, not outside Nick’s office. “Give me one hour. There’s some things I want to do. For you.”

He nodded. He couldn’t say a word.

Nick’s fingers curled into his shirt, clutching his polo like he was going to pull Colton out of the chair. He dragged in a ragged breath, then leaned down and dropped a kiss to the top of Colton’s head, lightning fast. If someone were walking by Colton’s cube, their secret would be out, but they were alone. Lizbeth’s keyboard clattered across the bullpen, and Jim had left after lunch, wishing them both a good weekend.

He wrapped his hands around Nick’s thighs and turned his face up. Nick’s lips met his and froze.

They could have stood like that for a second or an hour, still life captured in a single press of lips on lips. Colton wanted to deepen the kiss but clawed himself back. No, not yet. You can’t be open about this. Not yet. Not yet.

One day.

Nick tore away from him, striding out of Colton’s cube and hurrying across the office to the elevator. He left Colton clinging to empty air that used to hold his lover. He could still smell Nick, his Irish Spring and his dry cleaning and his summer skin, tan from their days in the park throwing the football. Nick’s scent, as familiar to him now as his own. As comfortable as the smell of a football and fresh-cut grass.

He pitched forward and buried his face in his hands. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven… He started counting seconds, would count down the minutes, sixty times sixty, until he could follow Nick home.

And then—

Fifty-six. Fifty-five. Fifty-four.

* * *

One hourand the seven-minute run from the office later, Colton slid his key into the front door and turned the lock. He shoved it open, barreled into the condo—

Darkness enveloped him. Nick had drawn the curtains over the floor-to-ceiling windows along the back wall. Colton hadn’t even realized there were curtains, but apparently there were, and they enclosed the condo in a thick stillness. Soft music—instrumental blues, Nick’s second favorite—poured out of his wireless speakers.

Every surface was covered in clusters of candles. Tea lights, the kind that fit six in Colton’s palm. He counted a dozen each on the end tables and bunched on the concrete floor, another two dozen or so spread the kitchen counters. More on the island, flickering wildly from the breeze of the front door opening.

Nick was waiting for him in the kitchen. He’d changed, trading his khakis and polo for a pair of old jeans—his tightest, the ones Colton liked best—and an undershirt. His hair was damp. He’d showered. Shaved.

He slid a glass of red wine across the island to Colton. “Welcome home.”

“Is this all—”

“For you? Yes.” Nick’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He bit his lip, rolled the flesh between his teeth. His pupils caught the dancing flames as his eyes traveled down Colton’s body.

Colton’s fingers shook as he lifted the wineglass to his lips.

Summer red. His favorite from their winery. He took a gulp—too much. The wine, the candlelight, Nick, everything went right to his head. He blinked, and the world seemed to soften. Shift slightly, like he was stepping on a carousel starting to spin.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Nick asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll…”

Nick followed him into the bedroom, then into the bathroom. He leaned against the counter and held Colton’s wineglass as Colton stripped. Colton didn’t think it was possible, but the fire in Nick’s eyes grew hotter. Darker. Like a star collapsing inward.

He left Colton in the shower and disappeared to the bedroom.

Colton tried to be both thorough and quick and ended up fumbling the soap like a freshman receiver on the practice squad. His hands were shaking and his vision was blurring, and all he could think about was Nick. Nick coming home and lighting a hundred candles for him. Nick planning this, imagining this, preparing this for the two of them. Nick thinking about this. Nick wanting this—him—too.

He dried off and raced into the bedroom, naked. His cock was already hard, achingly so, weeping precome that smeared on his belly.

His wine was on the nightstand, next to Nick’s half-full glass, but Nick was—

“You’re beautiful, Colton. Sometimes I can’t breathe when I look at you.”

Nick leaned against the bedroom’s doorframe, his body silhouetted by the flickering candlelight from the kitchen. There were candles in the bedroom, too, scattered on the dresser and the nightstands and clustered on the floors in the corners. Just enough light to make out the way Nick’s jeans clung to him like a second skin. The way his cock bulged from his fly—his unbuttoned fly, undone like he couldn’t hold himself back any longer—and how his undershirt followed the tight lines of his shoulders and his chest.

Dark, heavy masculinity came off Nick in waves, crashing into Colton.

“You’re the gorgeous one.” His hands fluttered in front of his belly, suddenly shy in a way he’d never been before. He’d been buck-ass naked in front of his teammates and coaches—and Nick—but this, somehow, was different. Nick’s gaze took in every plane and valley and crevice of his body, traveled over his muscles and the lines of his legs. His cock grew harder. So hard it hurt.

Nick crossed the bedroom in three strides, pulling his T-shirt over his head as he moved. He tossed it behind him, far away from the candles, then unzipped his fly and shoved down his jeans. He wasn’t wearing boxers, and his cock sprang out, as hard as Colton’s. He stepped out of the jeans and closed the inches between them to seize Colton, wrapping him in his arms and guiding him backward to the bed.

Colton collapsed to the mattress. Nick followed, and Colton spread his legs for Nick to make a home between his thighs. He grabbed Nick’s waist as Nick crawled over him, his chest fur tickling Colton’s belly and ribs and pecs. He kissed Colton once, twice. Softly. Almost chastely. Colton whimpered and tried to deepen the kiss.

Nick pulled away, gliding down Colton’s body. His hands trailed over Colton’s arms, pressing him to the mattress and pinning him in place when Colton tried to sit up and follow him, chase the kiss he wanted to make last forever. Instead, Nick’s lips trailed from his chin to his neck to his clavicle and then down to the valley between his pecs. Across to one nipple, then the other, before biting his way to Colton’s belly button.

Colton arched his back and gasped as Nick buried his tongue in Colton’s navel the way he’d eaten his ass the night before. Like he was giving Colton a preview of what was to come, how he was going to lick and taste and suck and take. Colton shivered, his hands clenched in the sheets, moaning when Nick swirled his tongue deep inside his belly button.

Nick bit down on the taut skin below Colton’s navel, right next to his purple, aching cock head. He nibbled his way back up Colton’s chest and stopped to suck a kiss bruise into the low, hidden angle where his neck and his shoulder met. Low enough to hide under a T-shirt, but close enough to the collar to be scandalous. It was possessive, like Nick was laying claim to him, something he’d never done before.

The bed shifted as Nick stretched out on top of Colton again, dragging his hands back up Colton’s arms, over his shoulders, and then into Colton’s damp hair. His cock, heavy and thick, pushed against Colton’s. It felt harder, seemed larger than it had before. His cock head pulsed against Colton’s, and his balls lay heavy atop Colton’s.

Instinctively, Colton’s thighs fell open wider.

Nick’s gaze captured Colton, his eyes seeking something deep inside Colton. Colton’s lips parted, and he panted as he opened everything he was to Nick. I’m yours. His mind was static and screaming, three words repeated on a loop. He was thinking so loud Nick had to hear him, had to know what his whole body was vibrating with. I love you I love you I love you I love you—

Nick’s lips caressed Colton’s, their softness so at odds with Nick’s dark intensity. Colton melted, keening into the kiss as he scraped his nails up Nick’s back, tightened his thighs around Nick’s waist. Nick’s tongue glided against his, slipped into his mouth, sought out his hidden places.

Nick shifted, rocking his hips just so until his cock slipped between Colton’s thighs and behind his balls and into the tight heat of his clenched ass cheeks. He deepened the kiss, moaning into Colton’s open mouth, and thrust, pressing his cock into the valley of Colton’s ass.

He broke the kiss and grabbed Colton’s thighs, pushing upward and folding Colton in half. His tongue was on Colton in an instant.

Colton gasped as he hooked his hands beneath his knees. He arched and moaned and bore down, trying to grind into Nick’s lips and tongue. Nick grasped his cheeks and spread them, as if he could open Colton more, work his mouth deeper, burrow farther inside. Yes, please, all the way. I want you so fucking deep inside me. He could feel himself loosening, his hole getting wet and slick and loose as Nick ate him out. Saliva soaked him, dripped down the cleft of his ass. Nick was devouring him, and he was moaning, too, like he couldn’t get enough.

Then Nick was gone, and Colton blinked at the flickering candlelight playing peekaboo with the ceiling. Where? What? He tried to sit up—

Lips on his, soaking wet, slick with spit and drenched in his flavor. He grabbed the back of Nick’s neck, trying to hold him there as he kissed back.

Fingers, wet and slick with something more than spit, slid down the crack of his ass.

He broke the kiss and dug his forehead against Nick’s as Nick pushed a lubed finger inside his hole.

“Okay?” Nick asked. His voice was testosterone darkness, lust and candlelight, need and craving.

Colton nodded. I love you I love you I love you.

Nick fingered him slowly. First one, all the way in and out while his thumb played on the rim, stroking around and around the puckered, slick edge. Then two, and Colton shivered, pulling his thighs wider as if he could will himself to open for Nick. He lifted one leg and wrapped it around Nick’s waist. So much pressure. So much stretching. His eyes were crossing, and his chest heaved. Heat built in waves, flowing out from his ass and soaking him in liquid joy.

Three fingers slid into him. His toes curled. Pleasure ignited everywhere, all at once, when Nick dragged those fingers against his insides, behind his cock, above his balls. He screamed as he threw his head back, clenching down on Nick. He trembled and couldn’t stop.

Nick buried his face in Colton’s neck. “Colton,” Nick whispered. “Are you ready?”

I love you I love you I love you.“Yes.” His back bowed as Nick stroked that spot again. Every muscle clenched and held, like a football sailing through the air, hanging, hanging, never going to come down. “Please…”

Nick’s fingers, soaked in lube, pulled out of Colton’s ass as he backed away, leaving Colton empty, wanting, and he blinked, reaching wildly to pull Nick back—

Nick knee-walked up the bed, pushing Colton’s thighs farther apart. One shaking hand slid down the back of Colton’s leg and cupped his ass. Squeezed.

Something hot, and thick, and hard pushed up against his hole. Nick’s cock. That’s his dick.

Fuck, he felt huge. Nick ran his length up and down the cleft of Colton’s ass, every inch of him sliding over Colton’s soaked hole. “Jesus, Colton. I’m so fucking close to coming already.”

“Inside me,” Colton pleaded.

“Fuck,” Nick hissed. His fingers dug into Colton’s meaty ass, and his dick throbbed, leaping against Colton’s hole before the tip nudged at his opening. “Colton—” He bit his lip, as if he was stopping himself from saying more.

Pressure. A push. Slickness suddenly sliding against slickness. Nick’s cock moved into him faster than he expected, maybe faster than Nick expected, too. They both froze, Nick falling forward and digging his hands into the mattress by Colton’s head as he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Colton clawed at Nick’s shoulders and squeezed his thighs around Nick’s waist, his head thrown back as he struggled to breathe.

Stretching. Pulsing. Nick inside him, but not all the way. Not yet. “More,” Colton gasped. “Nick, more.”

Nick shuddered and then thrust slowly, gliding the rest of himself—all of him—inside Colton.

Colton screamed, but no sound came out. His lips moved as his lungs seized, and he tried to fuck himself against Nick, trying to get more of Nick inside him, greedy, desperate for more. Come in me. All the way in me. He dug his nails into the quivering muscles on either side of Nick’s spine. Everything in him clenched around Nick. Like someone had wrung him out from the inside.

He could feel every inch of Nick’s cock inside him. So deep inside him.

He ground against Nick. Nick made an animal noise, a grunt or a growl, something dark and instinctive as his hips started to respond. He pulled back, then eased, agonizingly slowly, into Colton.

Colton panted, his lungs dragging in tiny puffs of air that got punched back out with every roll of Nick’s hips. Precome soaked his stomach. Nick’s belly slid against it, smearing it between them as he pressed their bodies together.

Gentle movements gave way to longer strokes. As Nick pulled out farther, his cock head dragged across the place his fingers had caressed, shooting raw joy like a drug throughout Colton’s body. He screamed again, grabbing Nick’s head in both hands. He spread his thighs wide and planted his feet on the mattress before bucking up and meeting Nick’s every thrust.

Nick groaned, the sound wrenched from deep inside him. He sank into Colton, hard and strong, then pulled all the way out. Colton gasped, bending forward and trying to chase him, but Nick pinned him, his fingers squeezing on his nipples as he lowered his head and swallowed Colton’s cock.

Sensation. Too much sensation. Suction. Heat. Emptiness. He thrashed, bucking into Nick’s mouth as Nick sucked once, twice, three times—

Nick pulled off and rolled Colton, manhandling him like Colton was half his size. He flipped Colton onto his belly and spread his thighs, then pulled his hips up until his spine was arched like a ski jump. Colton grabbed the edge of the mattress over his head and buried his face in the sheets.

Pressure, again. The slide of Nick entering him. He howled, the sound muffled in the bed. Nick’s shaking hands squeezed his hips, then roamed to the small of his back and over his ass cheeks, gripping the meat there.

“Yes,” Colton grunted, turning his face to the side. Behind him, Nick was painted in shadows and candlelight. “Nick, yes.”

“Colton…” Nick’s eyes closed. He squeezed Colton’s ass again.

It was, hands fucking down, the most intense experience of his life. Pleasure raced up and down his spine, spread like wildfire along his nerves and veins. Pooled in his stomach and his burning thighs, then swirled around his arms and out to his fingers and his feet. He tore the sheets from the corner of the bed, curled his toes in the rumpled bedspread. Grunted with each thrust of Nick’s cock inside him. Every push touched something buried in his core, something dark and mysterious and needy, a place that wanted Nick with a hunger that made his eyes tear up and his vision blur. Shameless need made him moan. Made him plead and whisper Nick’s name.

Nick pulled out and rolled Colton again, covering him with his body and kissing him desperately, his tongue thrusting inside Colton almost as deep as his cock had gone. Then he was back between Colton’s legs, pushing his thighs up, hooking Colton’s knees over his shoulders. “Want to see you come,” Nick breathed. “Need to see you.”

Colton nodded. He couldn’t speak, not anymore. He felt every inch of Nick as he drove in and out, harder, faster than before, sometimes pulling all the way out before slamming inside Colton again. He clung to Nick’s arms, his fingers leaving ten perfect bruises in a fan over Nick’s biceps. Explosions burst inside him, fireworks that started low in his belly and rose, consuming him like he was burning alive.

Sweat-soaked skin slapped against sweat-soaked skin, Nick’s hips against his, over and over and over again. “Colton.” Nick’s voice was an urgent growl. “Colton, Colton…”

He moaned. Gasped as Nick’s cock pounded his ass, pounded that place, dragged a thousand nights of perfect pleasure from him, like every second was the moment they’d won the championship. No, it was better than that. Nothing could ever beat this moment, this feeling of Nick and him. Nick inside him.

Nick’s eyes went wide, frantic, and he stared down at Colton like he was trying to memorize everything about him. He thrust, then shouted he pushed his cock as deep as he could into Colton.

Liquid heat scalded Colton’s ass, a flood of Nick’s come filling him.

White light seared him, like he was staring at a nuclear blast. He arched his back and ground onto Nick’s cock, his own dick spasming as he screamed and his entire body seemed to tear apart. Shatter and then reform, like an explosion going forward and backward in time at the moment of detonation. Perfect, pure pleasure, so much he thought he’d died.

Nick kept going, thrusting into Colton as he collapsed on top of him. He buried his sweaty face in Colton’s neck and groaned, his hips and his dick still trying to merge with Colton. Come squelched with his every movement, a river soaking Colton’s ass and the mattress beneath him.

Hunger softened, eventually. Nick’s lips carved a path from Colton’s neck to his jaw, then to his quivering mouth.

I love you I love you I love you—

“Colton,” Nick whispered.

Colton cradled Nick’s face and kissed him as his vision went watery and burning tears began a slow slide down his temples.