“Okay...”
“What are you gonna do? I've got him by the throat!”
“Duck now!”
With a little forced strength, Raven pulled his head down from Zavis's grasp to which Lysander pulled out his gun and shot the stalker point blank in his head. The knife fell from his hand and the man fell onto the bed, lifeless, with blood spilling onto the floor. Lysander put the gun back in its holster and went over to where Raven sat, untying him.
“Come on, I'll take you home...” he said gently.
“No...” Raven shook his head. “I want… I want to go back...with you.”
Lysander stared at the redhead then nodded. “Okay...”
The hot water was turned on full blast, and Raven stood under the stream, holding his body. The heated water trickled down his skin and warmed him, yet he still shuddered, his shoulders shaking and his legs trembling. His head was lowered and he felt like crying but he didn't.
“Shortie.”
Raven flinched when Lysander said his name and he kept his head down, his drenched red locks covering his eyes. “I'm sorry...that he did that in your club.”
“Forget that damn club. I'm more concerned with you.”
“Me?” Raven forced out a laugh. “What do you mean? I-I'm fine. I'm...really...alright…”
His body tensed up suddenly as Lysander's arms wrapped around him, pulling him against his chest. He began to shake.
“You...You're getting wet...”
“You were terrified, weren't you?”
The redhead closed his eyes. “I was… And, I-I was hoping that you would come and save me. I want to be someone that you want to protect.”
“You are.” Lysander sighed, running his finger through Raven's hair. “I know I said I wasn't gay but then again, you somehow managed to force your way into my life and I'll be dammed if you try to leave or someone tries to take you away from me.”
Raven finally looked up at Lysander. “Lys...”
“What shortie?”
“My body is going to get burned, can we get out now?”
“Yeah, alright.”
Back in Lysander's bedroom, Raven was sitting on the bed with a fluffy and loose bath robe on his body. Lysander had turned off the water and took off his damp clothes, now dressed in only a pair of loose pants that hung low on his hips. The redhead stared at him, practically mesmerized. He hadn't noticed until that moment what a great body Lysander had. Lysander looked over at him and frowned.
“What are you staring at, shortie?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing!” Raven turned his gaze elsewhere. “Um, it's okay if I sleep here tonight, right?”
“It is, but this is my bedroom...” Lysander crossed the room and stood next to the side of the bed. “And I don't think I'll be able to sleep, when the person I risked my neck for earlier is sleeping in only a robe right beside me.”
Raven felt his face burn with embarrassment at Lysander's words, but he managed to give him a sly smile, letting his robe slip down his shoulders. “I never said I wouldn't let you do anything to me.”
“Are you sure about this, brat? I don't want you complaining in the morning.”
“If it's you...then I'm okay with whatever you want to do.”
“You better not regret this...” Lysander said, one knee on the bed as he slunk his arm around Raven's waist, pulling him close.
“I won't.” the redhead whispered against his lips.
The kiss was heated, intense and passionate, as the two fell back onto the bed, Lysander holding Raven tightly as they made out. His hands moved the soft white robe off of Raven's pale skin, feeling the redhead shuddered at his touch. He moved down to Raven's neck and sunk his teeth into the skin, hearing Raven cry out in pain as he pushed his teeth deep into his neck, drawing blood as he did so.
“What the hell did you do that for?” Raven whimpered, rubbing the throbbing bruise on his neck.
“It's a mark. So that anyone who tries to get close to you will see that you already belong to someone else...”
Raven nodded, accepting another kiss from Lysander, who then kissed down his collarbone to his chest, running his hands down his sides. “Lys...”
“Hmm?”
“No foreplay...” Raven smiled down at him. “I just want you to take me… Please, carve yourself into my body… Hurry...”
Lysander didn't speak, but he moved back up, placing two fingers on Raven's lips.
“Suck.” he ordered.
Raven nodded and took the two digits into his mouth, licking and sucking on them seductively. He coated the fingers with his saliva and felt himself getting hard with Lysander's intense stare on him as he sucked. The fingers were taken from his mouth and soon pushed into his hole, slowly being pumped in and out. Raven cried out, locks of his hair falling in his face. Lysander frowned, seeing the slight tearing and dried blood from Zavis's anger/lust fueled playtime and he felt the anger that had surged within him on the phone grow once more.
“Lys...” Raven's heavy breathing and light voice pulled Lysander from his thoughts, looking up to see Raven bucking his hips and playing with his own nipples, drool sliding down the side of his mouth. “Lys… Hurry, Lys… I want you...”
“Shit… Why are you so damn good at making me lose my self control?”
He pulled his fingers from Raven's loosened hole, and lifted his legs onto his shoulder, holding onto Raven's hips as he slowly slid into him. Raven gripped the sheets, gritting his teeth. Lysander was much bigger than Zavis had been so he was being stretched out more than he was used to. Breathing heavily, Raven tried to calm himself and relax.
“You alright, brat?” Lysander asked, noticing the way Raven was contorting his face.
“I-I'm fine… You're just...really big inside of me… And why did you get bigger, you pervert?!”
Lysander leaned over him, tongue kissing him deep and hard. “Don't say cute shit like that and not expect me to want to mess up your body...” He thrust into Raven who yelped in surprise, the pain he had felt fading away to pleasure.
“Ahh, Lys…”
“Shit, shortie… You're freaking tight, relax a bit...”
Raven bit his lower lips, nodding and tried to, as Lysander continued to thrust into him, getting deeper and deeper. He suddenly hit a spot that made Raven cry out with ecstasy, arching his back and moaning with pleasure.
“Lys… Lys… I-I'm gonna...”
“Don't you dare.”
Raven's dripping erection was grabbed, and Lysander covered it with his thumb, preventing Raven from coming. The redhead looked confused and irritated.
“What...are you doing?”
“I don't want you cumming until I say so.” Lysander said with a devious smirk.
“You mega perv!”
“Raven...” Raven froze as Lysander whispered his name in his ear. “Listen good, because I'm only going to say this once: I may have only dated you in the beginning to boost my own ego, but I realized that I want to protect you from anything that might hurt you...because I love you, Raven.”
“Lys...” Tears welled up in Raven's eyes and he covered his face with his hands, trying not to cry. “You're such an idiot… Why couldn't you be this nice all the time?”
“You really want to say that now?” Another thrust had Raven crying out again. “I'm treating you nice now, or do you want me to get rough with you?”
“D-Do what you want...” Raven panted, his chest heaving up and down.
“Good boy.”
Lysander thrusted harder and harder into Raven, hitting that sweet spot over and over again as Raven writhed and moaned, unable to release his cum because of the hold Lysander had on him. He gripped at the sheets, trembling hard.
“Lys, s-stop playing around already...” he managed to say. “Let...me...cum...”
“What should you be saying, shortie?”
Flustered, Raven averted his eyes for a second then looked back. “P-Please let me cum, Lysander...”
&
nbsp; “That's a good boy...”
Removing his hand and lifting Raven's head up to kiss him, he thrusted one final time before releasing his cum inside of Raven. Raven's muffled cries against his lips and the stickiness on his chest signified that the other had came as well. Raven fell back against the pillows, his body covered in sweat and semen spilling from his hole, as Lysander pulled out of him. He looked over at the other to see him pulling out a cigarette and take a deep inhale of it. With what little strength he had, Raven raised himself up enough to lean against Lysander and took the cigarette from him, taking a puff from it as well.
“Brats shouldn't smoke.” Lysander told him.
“Bite me.” Raven joked.
“By the way...” Lysander held up the photos that Zavis had been holding, much to Raven's chagrin. “One of my employees found these when cleaning up that room.”
“Put those away!!” Raven cried out, trying to snatch the pictures away but failing due to the pain in his hips.
“What? Are you embarrassed, shortie?”
The redhead frowned and looked away. “No I'm not because it's my job. I make good money and I like the outfits they gave me. Mock me if you want...”
“I'm not going to mock you.”
“What?” Raven looked at Lysander.
“I'm not going to mock you...” Lysander smirked. “But I would like to have a word with your manager. Maybe he can give me a few special outfits to have to try on here in the bedroom.”
“You're such a pervert!” Raven cried, burying his face in the pillow.
Lysander laughed and leaned against his own pillow, putting the pictures on the bedside desk before closing his eyes. He felt Raven move and settle beside him, his hand and head resting on his chest. His arm moved and pulled the other close, sighing softly.
“You know… I think that was the first time I heard you laugh...” Raven murmured.
“It's been a long time since I had something to laugh about...” Lysander said. “Now that you're here, I have a feeling I'm going to be doing it a lot more now...”
A giggle left Raven's lips that slowly faded as he curled up beside Lysander and the two drifted into a contented sleep.
**********THE END**********
College Running Back
Description:
Aloysius “Wish” Johnson is a budding football star for the Arizona Sun Devils. Broad and blue-eyed, with a practical eye on his future, there isn’t much he hasn’t seen. That is, until he meets Sammy.
Sammy is no athlete. He doesn’t even want to come to the tryouts, but he risks losing his family’s support –and his father’s money- if he can’t make it onto the team. He has no experience, and the coaches don’t expect scrawny Sammy to last even a single day out on the field.
The tables turn when Sammy suddenly reveals a hidden talent, but will it be enough?
Wish is drawn to the younger man and becomes determined to help polish him, but time is limited. Even worse, Wish just can’t focus when Sammy is around.
Will Sammy make it? Can Wish keep his feelings in check, or will everything fall apart?
**********************************
Sitting in his shamble of a truck, Aloysius Johnson watched the walk-ons arrive at the practice field. Some of them looked grim and determined, but others glanced longingly at the weather-controlled practice dome right next door. Aloysius shook his head. Only official practices took place inside the dome, or bubble, as the fans called it. These scholarship-lacking walk-ons would have to bear the pounding heat and dry air of the outside as they struggled through the tryouts.
Without any representation, they would have to prove themselves as determined athletes if they even wanted a chance of joining the Sun Devils. Arizona State University was less prominent than other teams in the same college football leagues, but that didn’t mean they would take just anyone.
Aloysius knew that just as well as any of his teammates. He fought his way to his position through pure brute force, barely sliding by even with the backing of his high school coaches. Now, as a mere junior at ASU, the same coaches who belittled him before now called him a star player. He didn’t know anything about that, and football didn’t monopolize his life the way it did for some of his brothers on the team, but pouring energy into the sport, gave him focus. His degree in Business Management required persistence and dedicated studying; football gave him an outlet for all his frustrations, so he could return to class with a clearer mind.
No one got past him on the field.
None of these wannabes look very promising, he thought, studying them through the rolled-down window. He and a few senior teammates were here to watch, and help keep an eye out for anyone with potential. As soon as everyone checked in and got their temporary jersey, the real fun would start.
“Too damn early,” some kid mumbled nearby. Aloysius glanced at him, he was tall and broad in an effortless way, some guys could pull it off, and he doubted this one consistently worked out at all. And at almost 10 a.m., he thought it was early? He wouldn’t be coming back tomorrow, that was almost guaranteed. This first set of tryouts lasted a single week, composed of grueling drills and amped-up mental abuse. Veterans called this time Hell Week; Aloysius agreed with that title.
Those who made it through all three tryout weeks, and all three cuts, might actually have a chance at playing in a real game. The remaining few might be invited to practice, no more and no less.
Aloysius sighed as he looked around at all the others, freshmen and returning students alike. The ginger guy might be good as a wide receiver, and that stocky one might just make it as defense if he could bulk up a little, but most were nothing more than arrogant upstarts, drunk on their own superiority, or talentless shmucks blinded by inspirational movies. Even worse were the ones forced into this by their parents, an arrangement liked by no one that was involved. A poor little guy with a bitter expression may belong to that crowd. He struggled with his jersey, his coffee skin already glistening with sweat. The others would trample him alive.
“Hey, Wish. Man, what’s up? Ready to scare some kids?”
A tall senior with a wide smile and broad shoulders and tan cheekbones leaned down through the window. Cody “Cowboy” Brown, the handsome quarterback already being watched by the NFL, tapped the side of the truck.
“They won’t know what hit ‘em, Cowboy,” Wish replied, and opened the door. Honestly, he would rather be in his apartment right now, but he had a responsibility to the team that had taken him in when his family deserted him.
Flimsy swathes of cloud did little to dull the overwhelming swelter. Every breath tasted of dust, the field’s soil loose and powdery underfoot. The grass was browning, despite constant daily watering from timed sprinklers. Cowboy tipped an invisible hat to Wish and then strode off toward a small gaggle of their friends, looking every bit the rugged herdsman. He moved easily, with the effortless lope of a relaxed stallion; Wish felt his skin prickle with heat and turned away slightly.
The sound of a whistle, high, clear, and demanding, rang out, followed by a powerful yell. Head Coach Graham put his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Too slow,” his voice echoing endlessly beneath the empty blue Arizona skies. The crowd of walk-ons turned towards him hesitantly and started milling out onto the field. The other coaches burst forward from the sidelines, shouting and waving their arms and pointing, weaving like sheepdogs through a lost herd. Wish took a moment to watch, trying to remember how he felt the first time he was introduced to all this chaos. Graham rapped out the seasonal spiel, pacing rapidly, rolling his words together as he explained the process of elimination, while the other staff members talked beneath him, tapping students roughly for their attention. Confusion reigned. Most of these kids already looked like they had given up.
When no one was paying attention to him, Wish jogged in a wide circle around the other young men. His jog was slow, clothes bouncing loosely from his muscular 6-foot frame as he took his time, eyeing the butts of t
he candidates. That was one of the unintended perks of his sport, one he really would rather not broadcast to the whole world. He didn’t have much time for close relationships and wasn’t looking for one anyway, not after the disastrous break-ups in the past due to his lack of spare time.
However, sneaking a peek every now and again wasn’t a crime.
Not half-bad, he decided, but not half-good, either. That scrawny black guy in the tangled jersey wasn’t much to look at, especially not with that scowl, but Wish gave him a second glance anyway. Wish was a moose of a man, and such a slender body struck him as frail, almost pretty.
Passing by Cowboy, Wish lifted his eyes to shove his friends roughly. They laughed uproariously, trying to push back at him and failing. Since he never told anyone, he didn’t know how the team would handle his sexuality if they ever found out. He was determined they never would. He couldn’t bear to lose another family.
The confused clump of walk-on candidates slowly started to work itself out, as the introduction faded and was replaced by the warm-up. Some warm-up, though. Cowboy and some of the assistants pointed, laughed, and taunted, as Coach Graham barked out push-ups and squat numbers, barely pausing before rushing into the lunges. Sweat flowed freely as the newcomers struggled to keep up, some of them barely knowing what they were supposed to do, as commands flew from all directions to push harder, move faster, press deeper. Hips swayed and lean backs flexed, tight muscles rippling beneath jerseys. Some of these guys were actually pretty decent in their form, although they would never hear that in the weeks to come.
Not the scrawny pretty guy though. Wish caught himself almost smiling; looking around at the sophomore, who was half-heartedly encouraging. He was looking around wildly, eyes wide and perplexed as he struggled for balance, pin wheeling his arms every few seconds as he twisted awkwardly through the stretches. Dropping down ungracefully for a push-up, the guy hit his chin on the baked earth, and let out a soft grunt of pain. His teeth clicked together audibly, and Wish winced in sympathy. He couldn’t have been further from his element, and Wish wouldn’t have blamed him if he left during the first break.
Omega Wanted: Bad Boy Mpreg Romance Page 72