by C. A. Rene
I take the first set of steps upward and come out on a platform, overlooking the large stadium field below. Rows and rows of seats that I can see rounding the arena, imagining them being filled with screaming fans. I can’t stop the excitement that bubbles in my chest and the feeling works its way up and over my face. I’m beaming into the early morning sun and the feeling reminds me why I’m here. This euphoric feeling and the rush of adrenaline it brings, this is the exact reason why I’ve worked myself so hard for the past twelve years. I give myself ten minutes to stand here, feeling that excitement, and letting the warmth of the rising sun soak into my skin.
Before I leave, I make myself a promise that I won’t let anyone ruin this for me, and that includes Sebastian. His issues are not mine and if he continues down this path of fighting me, I will fight back. I won’t let him or anyone else take what is rightfully mine.
I get back to the front and the lady is there waiting, just as she said. I notice she gives me an appreciative once over and I grin. Maybe it’s time I get out a bit.
“What’s your name?” My eyes trail down her body and come to rest on her dark eyes. I watch as a pink blush coats her cheeks.
“Danielle,” she replies, her voice smooth but shy, “my friends call me Dani.”
“Can I call you Dani?” I smile at her and that pink blush turns red. Fuck, she’s beautiful and her features tell of an exotic mix. Maybe Asian and white.
“I don’t know,” she bites down on that full bottom lip, her teeth sinking into the flesh, and capturing my full attention. “Are we friends?”
“Not yet, Danielle.” I toss her a wink as she leads me towards a large set of red double doors, “but I want to be.” My voice drops an octave. She’s tall and lean with curves in all the right places. Her ass is plump but looks firm as I watch her take long strides. I bite into my lip when her calves flex with each step, she’s fit.
“Okay,” she whispers. “This is your locker room and the Coach’s office is right across the hall.
“Thanks,” I tell her, looking around the space, “do you work here?”
“Yes,” she smiles wide, “you’ll see me around.”
“Perfect. Later.” I head inside.
Zeal is standing in the center of the room as I walk in and I grin as I watch him. He has his hands on his hips and he looks from left to right. I watch as he inhales deeply, his back widening, and his shoulders lifting. Then his body deflates with his exhale and I chuckle, the noise making him look at me over his shoulder. His face breaks out with excitement and he shakes his head.
“I think I smell victory this year,” he says as I come to stand beside him.
“There’s no thinking about it,” I grab his shoulder and give him a squeeze. “I know it.”
I walk along the lockers and when I spot my locker and Jersey number, my heart triple beats out of my chest. Number eighty-eight. I’ve had it since high school and it’s been with me through my struggles, but always had my back. I run my fingers along the smooth engraving and smile. We fucking made it.
“Offense is always on the same line.” He remarks quietly and I look to my right, seeing Avando’s name on the locker right next to mine. Like fate just can’t stop laughing her ass off at me.
“It’s all good,” I shrug, “everything is fine.”
“They’ll come around.” He repeats his sentiment and I refuse to burst his bubble, because we may never come around.
I nod instead and open my locker, gazing inside. The royal blue color gleams back at me, telling me this locker room was given a fresh coat of paint; and just like me, is starting over. Camp experiences aren’t going to affect my game here and I can feel how ready I am to be a part of this team. I want the fucking championship.
The quiet moment is short lived as the doors slam open and our teammates begin to pour in. I grab my practice uniform hanging on a hook under my locker and toss my duffle bag inside. I want to get down to the field and run a couple laps before everyone gets there, it’s a tradition I’ve maintained for years.
My head is down but I see his shoes as he walks by me, slowing in front of the locker beside mine, and I’m shocked when he says nothing. I finish tying my shoes and stand to close my locker door, feeling his eyes on the side of my head. I don’t look at him and I don’t acknowledge his presence, I won’t let him be a part of my first experience here. I turn on my heel and head back for the doors, clapping Zeal on the back as I pass.
“I’m going to run a few laps, see you down there.” I watch as he beams.
“See you there.”
I step through the double doors and out into the wide hallway. To my left is the set of stairs we came down from the entrance and to my right is another set of double doors. I know those lead to the field. I hear talking straight ahead and see Coach sitting at his desk talking to Danielle, her face a mask of determination. I jog across the hall and rap my knuckles on the door catching both of their attention.
“North!” Coach booms and stands up, “how are you feeling?”
“Great,” I feel amazing, “I was just about to head out to the field for a couple laps.”
“Dani,” Coach grabs her shoulder, motioning toward me, “this man here is the human Flash.”
I shake my head with a grin, feeling good under his praises, and hoping like hell it convinces Danielle I’m worth her time.
“I can’t wait to see that.” Her husky voice hits me in the stomach.
“This is my daughter. Danielle.” Coach introduces us and my body feels like it’s being doused in ice water. Daughter?
“We’ve met.” She beams at my expression. No Danielle, we actually didn’t. If I knew she was Coach’s daughter, I wouldn’t have flirted with her, and now shit is about to get awkward.
I give them a quick nod and turn to head out to the large imposing steel double doors. The sunlight is streaming in through the cracks and I can already feel the energy spreading through my legs, I want to claim this track with my feet. I throw open the doors and step out onto the concrete ramp that ascends to the field, the walls climbing on either side filled with seats. I jog up to the top of the ramp and stand there, my toes grazing the green grass.
The goal posts stand tall, gleaming a bright yellow, and the paint fresh. The grass is a crisp green and the lines freshly painted as well. And then the Buffalo Bills logo painted into the center, prominent and proud. I dig my feet into the grass and fly forward, pumping my legs as I circle the field. This feels like home.
Chapter eleven
Sebastian
Dani has not taken her eyes off Dixon the whole practice and it’s fucking pissing me off. I’m not jealous, I fucked the bitch last season, and she wasn’t that great of a lay anyway. It’s the pure desperation I see in her eyes and it makes her look pathetic. I hate pathetic people. Dixon has noticed her, I’ve seen him glance a few times but he hasn’t really acted on it, and that makes me want to laugh in her face. She’s twenty-three, acts demure and innocent but she’s fucked almost half the team; her ass has been around this field as much as the ball.
Dixon has a quick word with Coach and then he’s heading off the field towards the locker room, Dani running to catch up with him. I watch their interaction closely and when she talks to him, he barely acknowledges and gives her a tight nod. I laugh out loud before I can stop myself and Jameson cuts me a curious look. I clear my throat and shrug, guzzling down a mouthful of Gatorade. I look back to the double steel doors and see Dani walking back, looking dejected and rejected. Dumbass whore, I bet she thought she had a chance with Dixon, but even I know that guy has higher priorities. He has a little brother and mother he needs to pull off the streets. I think of the scuffed old bus pass I still have tucked into my wallet and grin while I take another drink. I fucking like that he ignored her advances.
I grab my towel and dry my face as I follow the guys back inside. I need a shower and then I need to smoke the blunt waiting for me in my car. It’s been a long ass day a
nd my body is dog-tired. The guys all rush for the showers and I hang back, not really in the mood for small talk today. Jameson crooks an eyebrow at me as I sit on the bench and I wave him off, watching as he and Ortiz hit the showers. To be real, chilling with them is becoming a mundane chore, and all I crave lately is to be alone. Besides, my plans for Rookie no longer require their help, and I can’t trust that they’ll keep their big mouths shut. I watched him out there on the field, running his times, and beaming like a little bitch every time Coach praised him. He must have some serious daddy issues if he needs that constant approval.
What are the odds that North’s locker would be right next to mine? I look up at it and roll my eyes, it’s like someone is getting the last laugh with me. Not that it matters, he’s doing real well pretending I don’t exist, and that alone is irritating the hell out of me. I still haven’t dealt with him for punching me and then spitting in my face. That, he can’t get away with. I see the red light on the outside of the sauna and my eyebrows crash together in confusion. None of us really use that thing, preferring to use the ones we all have in our houses. Except, one of us doesn’t have an extravagant home with a sauna; he would prefer to save his money I bet and use all the team’s facilities instead.
I head towards the light, hearing the showers running in the next room, and the guys all talking animatedly. Would North really be in here and alone? I open the door and the steam cascades around my head, blocking my vision of the inside, and effectively blocking me as well. But I know he can sense me, just as well as I can sense him, and the atmosphere in here plummets.
“What do you want?” he sounds perturbed and that makes me grin. I affect him, no matter how much he tries to ignore it.
I drop my clothes to the side and grab a hot steamed towel off a hook, wrapping it around my waist. I step further into the heated room, my muscles already loosening, and the tension in my chest disappearing. He’s sitting in the back right corner, watching me warily, and I move straight ahead, sitting in the middle of the bench, about three feet from him.
“Are you saying I can’t use the sauna now, Rookie?” I sneer at him and he scoffs.
“I know you have one at home,” he retorts, “Zeal told me no one uses this. So, what the fuck do you want?”
Zeal has a big fucking mouth.
“I saw you talking to Coach’s daughter,” I say as I lean back against the warm wood behind me.
“I didn’t talk to her.” He sounds defensive and it takes everything in me not to laugh.
“Why? Not your type?” I dig at him, “what would Dixon North rather have in his bed?”
“Why is Sebastian Avando so damn interested?” he snaps back and my head swings to look at him.
“I’m actually concerned for Dani,” my lips curve upward, “she is Coach’s daughter after all and what do we really know about some punk kid from Baltimore?”
“There’s no need for your concern,” he says, his voice relaxing as he lays his head against the wall, “I’m not interested in Coach's daughter.”
His eyes are closed, like he’s so sure I won’t do anything, and the sight of his relaxation in my presence bothers me. The fact that the skin on his face is smooth and free of imperfections also pisses me off, what hardships has he endured? My gaze falls lower, over the beating pulse in his neck and then to his swollen chest. North is stacked and his abs are defined perfectly, he must work out hours every day. My eyes land on the towel he has secured around his waist and I see that it’s damp with his perspiration, the beads running down between the ridges of his abs, then soaking into the fabric.
“Now who’s watching whom?” his voice is quiet and my eyes skip back up to his. He’s wearing a smirk and looks smug like he caught me tripping.
“You can never know your enemy too well, Rookie.”
“That’s what I am to you,” he scoffs, “an enemy? And why? What the fuck did I ever do to you?” his voice begins to rise.
I snicker as I get up out of my seat; happy I can pull a reaction out of him, and proving I’m not being ignored, despite his best efforts. “You were fucking born.”
I step down from the wooden platform and before I can take another, I feel his hot body on my back. He turns me around and slams his fist into my cheek, then shoves me against the wall. I snap out of my shock quickly, anger growing hard and fast as I grab him by the throat, and switch places, slamming him into the wall. He shoves me off him and I take that opportunity to smash my fist into his cheek, watching as his head cracks to the side.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” I growl and he shoves me again, his chest heaving. “You have a motherfucking death wish.” I point into his face.
He slaps my finger away and growls, making me once again grab his throat, slamming his head into the wall. Both of our chests heaving and hatred shining bright from our eyes, my fingers curl tighter. He doesn’t react and I hate that about him. He works so hard to be unaffected by me. I hate it so much. I squeeze tighter and that anger once again burns hot, just as his hand comes up and wraps around my throat, hauling me into his face.
“What the fuck do you want?” He growls around my grip on his throat.
Maybe I need a reaction or maybe I’m out of my fucking mind, but I slam my mouth onto his, and his hand twitches around my throat, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t react either which has me growling into his mouth, preparing to force his lips open with my tongue; and then shock courses through me when he opens them without a fight. His tongue clashes with mine in a rough battle of teeth and lips, and his hand releases my throat to skim around behind my head and yank me in closer. My growl ends on a groan and I’m kissing him like I’m starved for the very air he’s breathing into his lungs. I suck his tongue into my mouth and step into him, our bodies flush. His chest pressing against mine and his hard cock digging into my groin.
He’s hard and so am I.
Finally, something inside me wakes the hell up, and I push off North. I look into his face and see shock plainly coating his features. Our chests heaving, my heart is thumping and my insides begin to quake, uncertainty making me volatile. I curse as my fist slams into the wood beside his head and I yank open the door, quickly putting distance between us.
I wanted a reaction and I guess I got one.
“Fuck!” I scream into the steering wheel.
What the fuck was that back there? Why does he bring out the worst in me? It’s taking everything I have not to storm back in there and beat him to death. My need to one up him is getting out of control and I crave his fear like an addict. I don’t know what happens to my head when he gets close and I can’t control my actions when he’s in my personal space. I punch the side of my head, the pain skating across my skull, and still, it’s not enough. I need to go home and soak my brain in powder and just forget what happened today. Because if I don’t, I will end up killing North, and my whole life will be over.
I slam the vehicle into drive and burn my tires as I speed out of the parking lot. I weave through traffic and cut people off, their horns sounding at my back. I don’t care. There’s something rattling loose inside my head and the more I try to avoid it, the more it’s fucking me up.
My tires squeal as I turn into my driveway, I’m home without killing anyone, and that’s a miracle. I rip myself out of the Hummer and tear into my house, slamming the door behind me. My body is shaking with an energy I can’t release and my head is consumed with a fog and him. Why did he kiss me back?
No.
I scrape my fingers over my scalp and when I feel the skin underneath grow wet with blood, I moan in relief. Everything is fine, I close my eyes, and try to breathe. I’m not actually gay. Then I think of us in towels, pressed together, and our cocks…
NO!
I turn quickly and slam my head against the wall, causing the Sheetrock to crack. I’m not fucking gay! I know what I want and it’s a woman under me. I’ve had so much pussy, free pussy. It comes with the sport. I turn quickly and pull my phon
e out of my pocket. That’s what I need, it’s been too long, and my body needs a release that only a woman can give me, that only a soaking wet pussy can give me.
I dial Jameson’s number and he picks up after two rings.
“Sup?”
“I need to chill.” I can hear the tight, anxious tone in my voice, “get over here with some girls.”
“In your house, Avando? We can hit up Neon Girls…”
“No,” I cut him off from suggesting the local strip club, “here.”
“Alright,” I can hear the grin in his voice. “Give us about an hour.”
“Make it thirty minutes.” I growl and hang up the phone.
Sure, I could take myself over to Neon Girls and grab my regular, she knows how I like my dick sucked. But I know that won’t be enough today, not after what happened, and besides, I need more than a blow job. I need to sink into a hot, wet pussy and pound the shit out of it. I get upstairs and take a shower, feeling the sting of the shampoo as it seeps into the scratches on my head, and glare down at my hardened cock. Why the fuck did it betray me like that? Getting hard for that little bitch rookie.
I have yet to soften since the sauna and I know it’s because I’ve gone too long. Maybe I should’ve tried to fuck the bitch from the club. Maybe then my brain wouldn’t have shut down and what happened with North would’ve never happened. Because that’s my real problem, I have certain needs, and when they aren’t met, bad shit happens. I ignore my cock as it pulses, begging me for relief, and I grit my teeth against the temptation. I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist, not letting myself think of the towel I wrapped around my waist inside that sauna. I swipe the steam from the mirror and look at my face critically.
I have scrapes on my scalp but they’re turning pinker and less red. I have a small cut on my forehead from the wall and it looks a little bruised, but all in all, I’m ready to let myself go today. I can’t end it with what happened in that sauna room, I need it to end differently, I need to wipe that shit out of my head.