Page 5 of The Rival

Jason smirked. “That’s where you’re wrong, Matt,” he purred. “I know more than you realize.”

My mind was too clouded by desire to dig further into what he was implying. He was pressed into me, leaving little space between our bodies. I had never let someone handle me the way I was letting Jason, falling under his spell with ease. This close, I could smell the spiced soap he must’ve used before I joined him, rich, heady, and tempting.

“Let’s help you relax a little,” he said, hand loosening in my hair. “Go ahead. Stroke me.”

It was a command, and without thinking, my hand moved on its own accord, running along his length in tentative, slow movements. It was like his order had flipped a switch inside my brain before I could use proper judgment. My pulse quickened,and my lips parted when I glanced down and saw he had begun to harden in my palm.

Jason was either so full of himself he didn’t care who was touching him so long assomeonewas touching him, or he was intoguystouching him.

This wasn’t two men from opposite teams taking a petty rivalry to a new inappropriate level—or maybe it was from the permanent smirk on his perfect face. He seemed to be enjoying my attention.

“That’s right,” he encouraged, dark eyes half-lidded. “Use both hands. Get me nice and hard.”

Using two hands was the right suggestion. I needed both just to get a real hold on him. Watching him get hard was an out-of-body experience. Touching him while he touched me was so different than just touching myself alone. Hearing his every response, seeing him flex his muscles beside me, feeling his warm breath on my skin, his clean smell—it was overwhelming.

Yeah, Jasondefinitelyliked this. He was breathing hard like he was out on the court, and he was rocking his hips into my hands with his eyes unmoving from mine. His own hand began to move faster around me, coaxing little sounds I’d never made before in the presence of another human being. I tried to match his pace, to time my movements with his so we could be in-sync. My inhibition waned as it became clear he was far more experienced than me. I found myself wanting to let him show me how to pleasure another man properly.

I couldn’t believe how my body was reacting. I couldn’t believe I was doing this—jacking another guy off, that said guy was Jason… that I wasgladit was him. He was murmuringencouragement and praise into my ear, telling me how to touch him, how much pressure to use, and I was eagerly following his every suggestion, waiting on bated breath for him to tell me I was doing it right. Every nerve ending across my skin was on fire, with goosebumps rising on my arms despite the overwhelming steamy heat inside the shower.

Jason’s head was angled so close, crowding into my space, I thought he might kiss me. If he kissed me, surely I would push him away. I hated him, didn’t I? He was stubborn, rich, snobby, and overconfident. Even now, standing under the shower spray, he was so certain he had me wrapped around his finger—and I hated him all the more because he was right.

Our eyes held as we stroked each other, I couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like, if they would be as soft as his hands. He was talented at so much already, would he be an amazing kisser too? From the way women seemed to fawn over him game after game, undeterred by his ‘play-hard-to-get’ attitude, I could only assume so.

But I refused to make the first move. No way. If I kissed him, and he ended up shoving me away because he didn’t want to cross that line, my pride wouldn’t be able to take the blow. If we were going to kiss, thenheneeded to be the one to initiate like he had initiated everything else up to this point.

But even that wasn’t the full truth. I wanted Jason to take charge, to make me forget everything but this unexpected, intimate moment. I already managed so much out in the real world. I had worked for everything since high school. Why couldn’t I be taken care of for once?

Seconds ticked by. His eyes kept boring into mine, his thumb kept swiping over the head of my shaft, and I grew more and more flustered under the weight of his gaze.

“Stop doing that,” I muttered.

“Doing what?”

He knew damn well.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

The tip of his tongue darted past his lips, wetting them even though they were already slick from the shower.

“Because I know how much it gets under your skin.”

“It… It doesn’t.”

And yet it did. God, did it get under my skin.

Another devilish smile spread across Jason’s face. “Admit it,” he whispered. “You want me to kiss you.”

I shuddered. Jason made it sound so simple, yet nothing ever could be around him. He was taunting me like he did when we were on the court.

With his hand still in my hair, Jason angled my head so our foreheads pressed together. The sound of our hands stroking each other was slick and sloppy, crystalizing how pointless it was to deny how far gone I was in this situation.

“Tell me you want it,” he said, his every word dripping with honey, “and I’ll do it.”

Was sparing my pride worth passing on the opportunity? No, it wasn’t. I’d never even been kissed before. I’d alreadysurrendered countless little moans and whimpers to Jason, what was one more ask? Even if he was right, I didn’t have to be happy about it.

“Damn you, Jason,” I groaned, but I was too weak, “kiss me already.”

And just as he promised, Jason surged forward to kiss me, and my eyes fell closed with relief at last. His lips were smooth as velvet, flawless. Mid-kiss, his free hand fell to the small of my back, its presence as hot as a brand. My heart stuttered, and I arched into him. Jason understood my cue, and his hand slid lower, following the curve of my ass to splay wide over my cheek. I didn’t have as great of a lower half as Jason, but I still did the occasional round of squats at the gym, so there was plenty to grab hold of. He gave me a gentle squeeze, and I whined into his mouth and held his cock a little tighter in my palm. Jason groaned, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was more of an ass guy from the way his fingers held me so possessively. I almost regretted the fact that he’d only ever seen me in basketball shorts before tonight.

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