Page 62 of Touchdown

I'm going to be fine. Everything's going to be all right for me.

I hadn't missed school. I wasn't going to lose my scholarship or my place on the team.

Noah was my concern now.

“Did somebody say something about team showers?” I hid my worry under a flirtatious smile.

“Oh, yeah,” Noah said. “I can't wait to try out all the hoses on all the body parts.” He licked his lips with plenty of visible tongue.

My whole body vibrated with desire.

Mine. He's mine to keep.

No one will ever take him from me again. I won't let them.

Chapter 44

The shower might be a good place to talk without being overheard, but it was also a place where it was a challenge to keep the big head in control of the little head. I mean look at us, flushed and naked and slick, both of us hard as hell.

Of course, we started out by trying to have a sensible conversation, but soon we were too busy grabbing and adjusting and squeezing. Noah wasn't kidding about the fancy shower heads. We had a whole party just setting them at different levels to direct multiple water massages at various muscles. You'd think we would have had enough of water, but hot pulsing spray is different from soul-draining lukewarm sogginess.

“Why are we here?” Noah asked. “Mitchell said debriefing but what do we really know?”

“Not a lot,” I admitted. “If they've been tracking us, they already know everything we know. But I guess they have to hear it from the horse's mouth?”

Noah snorted. “They think I know more than I'm saying. That I'm holding back.”

Was he holding back?

Fancy baths have fancy toiletries. The body wash claimed to smell like spring rain in a field of flowers. We bubbled each other up, then adjusted the various sprays for a long sweet rinse. For a time, it was a kinky thrill to blast each other at select sensitive places.

His lean body was a delight.

“I owe you a serious bondage session for how you tied me up like that,” I said. “A fucking hogtie?”

“I had faith in you. I knew you'd bust out, save the day. They don't make the ropes that can hold Slate Mason.”

Could you pop a man off with a well-aimed shower spray? Maybe. I took care to direct my aim a little off-center. He'd earned a little teasing, so I didn't intend to please too quickly.

For once, we had time. We were supposed to be resting and recovering.

I tried to push away all thoughts of what came after that. Going home, that's what. Mitchell will get us home before the semester starts. Otherwise, all hell breaks loose. A missing quarterback is a national scandal.

(But that was only a reason to get me home. Not a reason to get us home.)

I pushed that thought away too. Live for the moment—a very sweet moment.

Groaning, the water still running, we began to plant hungry kisses on all the fresh-cleaned places we could reach on each other's naked bodies. Somebody nibbled at a smooth pec, and somebody else tried to taste a pert nipple. We took turns nipping at the long sweet columns of each other's inner thighs.

Cocksucking was the next natural step.

And so somebody sucked playfully on a mushroom cap. Somebody else swiped a tongue across a taint. We gave and took and gave some more, and we were so wet and happy that it was becoming dangerous to keep standing there in the slippery wet, and so we went running out laughing, still damp and shiny when we tumbled onto the mattress.

We'd forgotten to have that talk under the cover of running water. Our bodies had more important things to say.

The sheets still smelled fresh and sweet. But soon they'd smell of sweat and jizz—and that would be even sweeter.

“You're mine.” I whispered into Noah's ear, that perfect shell that invited me to lick and tickle with every passionate word. “I would never have left you out there lost. You know that, right?”

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