Heat shadowed his eyes, and he glanced over my shoulder as he
slid a hand through his sweaty hair, then rubbed his jaw. There was
something about the combination of gestures that struck me as unset‐
tled. Good. And just when I was about to continue on my merry way to
the locker room, unwilling to stick around for his limbo antics, Eric
sucked a breath of air through his teeth and nodded. “You’re on.” Like
we were setting up a wrestling match or something.
Hell, sometimes it felt that way.
ONCE IN THE LOCKER ROOM, I stripped down next to one of the
benches, then carried my clothes and gym bag into one of the shower
stalls, dragging a towel from the cart after me before I yanked the
curtain closed. The stalls used to be open, but a while back there’d
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been some campus-wide movement on body consciousness or some‐
thing, so now the stalls all had shower curtains. Which was kind of
nice, since it meant I could take as long as I wanted without someone
eyeing me up and silently implying I needed to hurry the fuck up, as
had happened a few times before.
I turned on the shower and stepped under it, enjoying the contrast
of the cold tiles against my feet and the hot spray beating down on my
shoulders. Tipping my head back, I let the water cascade over my face
and whoosh through my ears, occasional conversation of guys coming
and going, then silence. A deep, satisfied exhale rolled from me, and I
ran my hand over my cock, thinking about Eric on that weight bench
earlier—this time my mind providing the bonus version: him stripped
naked, looking up at me with that sex-stoned gleam in his eyes as I
lowered myself on his cock. Fuck yeah, that was sexy. We hadn’t done
anything like that before, and I was kinda curious if he’d even be
down for that, given how he liked to take over and plow me.
Even better was imagining him in a darkened car, his hand on my
head, forcing me down onto his big dick, invading my mouth and
making me splutter. I gave a gentle tug to my balls, then a harder one
like he would, and swallowed a groan. Eyes still closed and centered
on that mind’s-eye image, I fumbled blindly for the shower gel
dispenser screwed into the wall, ready to take care of what had been
building up all morning.
A low, hushed chuckle rose as I knocked into the dispenser, and I
jerked my hand away, eyes flying open to find Eric standing in the
little changing area on the other side of the shower curb.
What the fuck? I mouthed.
He shrugged casually in return and lifted his index finger, circling
it around. Voices filtered in from the other side of the curtain, rising
in volume as what sounded like a crew of guys entered.
A month before, this would have terrified me. Today, I was
intrigued. And okay, a little terrified, too. Both sensations twisted
around in my stomach like a Möbius strip, endless and confusing. My
dick bobbed and twitched in the air, suffering none of my internal
turmoil, and Eric fucking smiled like I’d answered my own question.
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He repeated the motion with his finger, and I arched my brows at
him to let him know what I thought about his request before making
a quick circle. He shook his head and slowed the motion of his finger
down. Slower.
I fixed him with a hard look a second before I complied, feeling the
water sheet down with varying intensity as I did another 360, giving
him plenty of opportunity to take in the sight of me twirling like a
damn ballerina in a music box just for him. This time when I circled
back around, he nodded, seeming satisfied as he tugged at the front of
his shorts, adjusting himself so his cock lay thick and visible down the
side of his thigh. Pinned in place, I guess, by his briefs.
Without taking my eyes from him, I finished what I’d intended to
do before he interrupted, pumping the soap dispenser into my hand
and soaping up my dick in a slow glide. His gaze went hot and dark
before he slid his hand into his shorts, and fuck, I’d never had this
kind of view of him before. It was mesmerizing, watching him stroke
himself, getting only this frustrating glimpse of his hand moving
behind his shorts and wanting desperately to see him exposed.
I got that there was some kind of exchange going on, but I wasn’t
entirely sure what the parameters were. To test my theory, I stopped
jacking myself.
He stopped, too.
I ran a soapy hand over my chest and pinched my nipple until my
eyes watered and my chest shuddered and the skin went red and
angry around it, then started stroking my cock again.
Eric pulled his shorts down a couple of inches, keeping his gaze on
mine as he licked his thumb and circled the fat head of his cock
with it.
Without really even thinking about what I was doing, I lowered to
my knees on the floor of the shower, the tile rough and frigid on my
kneecaps.
I don’t know who was more surprised, me or him, but it showed in
his expression and I fucking loved it. He seemed to consider his next
move before pulling his shorts back over his dick, stepping forward to
the edge of the shower curb, and dropping one hand to the top of my
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wet head as I leaned in and pressed my face into his crotch. If I’d
stopped at the moment to actually think about what the fuck I was
doing, I would’ve been mortified. So I didn’t. I just fucking acted. Just
did exactly what my body was aching to do.
His shorts were damp with sweat, a musky, masculine, metallic
scent surrounding me as I rubbed my face against him and closed my
mouth around the shape of his cockhead through the fabric, licking
and sucking him through it. Eric shifted his stance, spreading his legs,
letting me tease him until his dick was straining against the spit-
soaked cotton before he grabbed me by the jaw and bent low to
whisper in my ear. “You might be fucking crazier than me.”
No fucking surprise there. I’d clearly lost my mind the first time I
invited him into my room. Unlike in the library, or at the fundraiser,
we were surrounded by people. I could hear the pattern of the water
spray change as the guy in the next stall moved around, smell the waft
of soapy steam, hear the booming laughter of someone out in the
changing area. And I still wanted nothing more than to struggle to
keep my shit together while he took me apart. Yeah, it was probably
safe to say I’d fucking lost it.
Swallowing hard against the mix of fear and arousal lodged like a
rock in my throat, I lifted my eyes to find Eric’s as he rose again,
waiting to see what the fuck he was going to do with me now that I
was on my knees.
Apparently nothing, because he hauled me up, speaking quietly in
my ear again. “Didn’t tell you to do that, though it’s a sweet gesture,
frat boy. I actually came in here for something else.”
It had better be to get me off, but I’d ha
rdly even given him a ques‐
tioning look before he laid his hands on my cheeks and kissed me.
Soft and slow—so damn slow—a stark contrast to the way we’d come
together the night before, when it’d felt more like a wreck of primal
urges than sensuality. And unlike this morning’s tease, this was the
full onslaught, like something you’d do while lying in bed post-fuck.
Lingering and indulgent, his tongue stroking my lips, opening them
to slide inside.
His fingers drifted down to my chin, pinching, guiding me like a
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rudder as he covered every inch of my mouth as if he was mapping
out the damn territory. But goddamn it was a good kiss, and my
whole body hummed and glowed with it.
I’d never even given that much thought to kissing, but Eric made it
as sexy as anything else he did. He was like a one-man band of eroti‐
cism, and no instrument was beyond his capability. Though I thought
maybe I liked his mouth the most. Not just for the way it felt on me,
but for the things that came out of it. Things I’d never imagined
myself wanting to hear before him. I imagined us in his bedroom, no
one around. Quiet and dark. All the time in the world to explore and
be explored. There were parts of him I’d not even touched and fuck,
now I wanted to.
Some guy a couple of stalls over started singing jokingly, and a
couple of other guys laughed and joined in. Eric scraped his teeth over
my lower lip, bit my chin, and pulled away, taking a step back.
I caught him by the wrist and dragged him back to the edge of the
shower with a shake of my head, because fuck that, he wasn’t going to
leave me in this state again.
The look he gave me was both appraising and curious at once,
then he mouthed, “Really?”
I nodded resolutely and we both stared down at the front of his
shirt, damp where I’d pressed against it. He reached at the same time I
did, took another step out of my reach, and peeled his clothes off,
dumping them unceremoniously to the floor, along with his shoes. I
watched, transfixed by his thick, bobbing cock, the sinewy definition
of his abs and thighs, flushed with blood from our workout. Then, I
lifted my hand and crooked my finger at him, loving the amused quirk
that tipped the corners of his lips. That was the beginning and end of
my demands, though, because as soon as he stepped into the shower
basin, he shoved me under the spray and it was clear I was all
his again.
Eric pumped the soap dispenser and lathered his hands, but
instead of going for my cock or my ass like I expected, he went for my
shoulders, soaping up the tight muscles, sliding his hands up and
down my arms and leaving a trail of bubbles in his wake. My back, my
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thighs, my calves, my chest. He washed me unhurriedly, thoroughly,
his gaze focused and attentive as I shifted and swayed under his
caress, because fuck it was good. Firm and tantalizing at once. A
different flavor of encounter, but still just as sexy.
When he finally got around to my cock, I was so blissed-out and
relaxed that instead of a jolt of arousal, it was a slow, mellow warmth
that began building inside me as he stroked his hand up and down my
shaft. And just when I’d start to buck into his hand, he’d drop down to
my balls, tug and massage them in his slick grip, or run his fingers
down my crack and tease my hole, press his finger against the muscle
until it gave and let him in, and then he’d be gone again.
His dick bobbed against mine, and eventually, he took them both
in his hand, the soft friction of his cockhead combined with the tight‐
ness of his grip driving me crazy. My breaths deepened with the effort
to keep quiet, my mouth falling open as he pushed and pulled and
tugged me ever closer to the edge. He leaned in, licking a hot stripe up
my throat and sucking on my lower lip and was in my ear again
before I could capture his mouth with my own.
“Think you can be quiet if I pound that hole raw?”
I nodded, reaching between us to pinch my dick, stave off the
surge of arousal brought on by those words and imagining Eric
fucking me right here with god knew who else five feet from us.
When he leaned back, I could tell he had his doubts. His doubts could
suck it. I could do this.
Probably.
I started to turn and put my hands against the wall, but he grabbed
me by the shoulder and cranked me back around, pressing in close
against me as he ran his hands down my arms.
“No lube. Gonna fix that.” He spoke quietly into my ear, then cut
me a wicked smile and dropped to his knees in front of me, taking my
dick in his mouth so fast I didn’t even have time to appreciate the
sight of his lips wrapping me before my vision sheeted white.
He sucked me hard and fast, no fucking around, flicking his
tongue mercilessly against my head, driving it into my slit while his
hand pumped my base. My molars ground together as I tried to stay
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quiet, my chest rising and falling and my heart pounding so fast and
hard I heard it in my ears. Pleasure roared wild through me in hard,
endless streaks, assaulting me from all sides as he tugged on my balls.
He pushed a wet finger into my hole, working me open with
shallow thrusts until I was shaking, then slowed down, stopped taking
me all the way to the back of his throat, and rubbed his lips around
my head, instead. Over and over, the friction concentrated and
intense, velvety hot and hard at the same time.
My mouth dropped open in soundless gasps, and my stomach
muscles contracted with the force of trying not to moan or whimper.
I dug my fingers into the meat of his shoulders so deep there was no
doubt I was leaving marks, and he didn’t even flinch.
My balls tightened up, and Eric took me deep in one long stroke as
I unleashed with a full-body shiver. He sucked me through it, turned
me inside out and kept going until I was shaking and shoved him
away from my sensitive head. My cheek hit the cold tile wall with a
light smack as Eric manhandled me into it. Then he stretched my
arms out over my head, yanked my hips back, and bent me over.
He pulled my cheeks apart and opened me with his thumbs; then
came the warm hit of his lips and a flood of heat. Oh sweet fucking
goddamn. I understood then what he was doing, and my dick started
twitching all over again. My own jizz coated my hole, slid down my
legs, and the idea that he was going to use my load as lube felt so
fucking dirty and hot at the same time that I had to sink my teeth hard
into my lower lip to stave off a moan.
Eric gripped my asscheek with bruising firmness, and I knew he
wished he could smack it like he had the other night, but that was a
no-go in an echoey shower stall. So instead, he was gonna brand me
with his fingertips. Unsurprisingly, I was down for that.
The tip of his cock pushed inside me a second later. Just him, no
barrier. Just his hot skin gliding against mine as I gulped air and
scrabbled for purchase against the wall. In one smooth stroke that had
me grinding my teeth, Eric buried his cock so deep I could feel the
quiver of satisfaction that ran through his body like it was my own.
He closed his hand around the back of my neck, holding fast as he
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fucked me, and I loved every second of it. The control in the near
silent glide of his body, the way each thrust forced me onto the balls
of my feet and made me tense my thighs to stay balanced. I wasn’t
even sure how the fuck he was managing to be so quiet until I twisted
a look over my shoulder and caught his expression. Taut and strained
with how he was holding back, his lips pressed together and rolled
inward, pale with the pressure. His glassy-eyed gaze focused on my
ass as he pumped in and out of it. I locked eyes with him in a silent,
desperate exchange, and he slid his hand from my neck down my arm,
yanking me upright to close his fist around my dick again.
I jerked—too much intensity too soon after I’d blown my load—
but when I pulled his hand away, he came right back, pressing insis‐
tently into me and speaking softly in my ear.
“You’ve got another one in you, and I want it. Gonna fuck you ’til I
get it.”
He slammed into me hard at the same time he gloved my dick with
his hand and I cried out, shouted, whatever; I made enough noise in
protest of the pairing of pleasure and pain that Eric clapped a hand
over my mouth and hissed in my ear just as someone the next stall
over called out.
“Okay over there, dude?”
We both froze. Eric’s hand slid from my mouth to my throat, a
firm, warm assurance as he spoke. “Banged my head on the dispenser.”
“Done that before. Sucks. Just checking.”
“S’allgood,” Eric slurred out.
Against my back, his shoulders started shaking with laughter.
His soundless laughter set off mine, and that might’ve been the
bigger challenge than staying quiet while he was fucking me, because I
couldn’t seem to stop once I got started. It was like an amped-up
version of what happened in a church or in a big lecture class some‐
times: that near-hysterical rush of emotion looking for release in all
the wrong places. My chest heaved and my stomach ached with it.
Eric squeezed my biceps and slipped from my ass, guiding me
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