Page 117 of Sweat

My head turns up at the sound of Rowan’s voice, and he’s flashing me a sneaky half smile before dropping into Raisel’s aisle seat.

“Really?” My anxiety immediately wanes as Rowan’s shoulder presses against mine. Being wedged in doesn’t feel so bad when it’s Rowan’s doing. If he also got us roomed together in Utah, I’m dubbing him my hero.

“Switched room assignments with Raisel. Also switched seats with him, so you can hold my hand the whole way to Utah.” He says it like he’s teasing me, but when he flips up the armrest and holds his palm upward, I clasp it eagerly.

“How’d you swing all this?”

“Told him you snore like a lawnmower.”

Frowning, I ask pathetically, “Do I?”

“Nah,” he coos, lacing our fingers. “You sleep like an angel.”

“You two are adorable!” Levi’s cringe-worthy tone seeps between our seats from the row behind us.

Rowan twists and cranes his neck tall enough to shoot Levi a glare over his headrest. “Put your headphones on and mind your business.”

“Aye aye, Captain!”

I’m red-faced and snickering, embarrassed but in a giddy way, where being teased starts feeling like praise.

Most of the flight, Rowan and I watch game film on his phone, sharing his Bluetooth earbuds. When we get close to Utah, and the dude to my left is snoring against the window, Rowan plucks the buds from both our ears and leans close to my ear.

“When we get to the room, I’ve got a present for you,” he murmurs.

“Oh, yeah?” I turn my head, and our noses nearly brush. “Is this a mutually beneficial present?”

With soft eyes, Rowan’s mouth smirks, and he says, “That depends on how you decide to use it.”

Shit.And here I thought he was going to let me get through this entire flight without popping a boner.

The sneaky bastard sticks a bud back into my ear, then his own, and taps play on his phone like he didn’t just plant that seed in my head. I lay my cheek on Rowan’s shoulder, focus on his phone screen, and will my dick to deflate in my travel sweats. I fall asleep waiting for myself to go limp.

At Salt Lake City International, the assistant coaches corral us all into a chartered bus that takes us to a Best Western near the campus of our opponents.

“Damn, Coach. Couldn’t have sprung for a Marriott or something?” Raisel complains as we’re dropped off with all our luggage in front of the hotel.

“You’re welcome to book alternative accommodations for yourself, Mr. Cruz,” Coach answers before addressing the lot of us. “Dinner will be in the banquet hall at six o’clock sharp. If you’re not there on time, and everything’s gone, you’re on your own til breakfast. I think there’s a 7-Eleven down the street.”

Six o’clock. So, we’ve got two hours to get settled in our rooms.How many times can I make Rowan come in two hours?

Our room is on the second floor, smack between Levi and Raisel’s room and Connor and Zeke’s. It’s a small room with two queen beds, one for Rowan and one for me, but the first thing I do is tug Rowan onto the bed closest to the bathroom and ravage him. Our shoes thud to the floor as we kick them off, and we shed our clothes in a flurry of wet, desperate kisses and roaming hands.

I get him naked, sprawled out below me, and I kiss him all the way from his smirking mouth to his flexing abs. I pick up his turgid, pulsing cock and roll his foreskin down to swipe my tongue across his glistening slit.

“Shit,” he huffs, fingers threading in my hair and his knees parting wide.

One hand on his pelvis and the other on his thigh, I take his cock down my throat without regard for my gag reflex. Lying between his legs, I rut against the duvet and moan around Rowan’s cock.

He grunts on every exhale, fingers pressing into my scalp as I bob on his shaft.

“Fuck, c’mere.” He hooks my ears and draws me off his dick

After a moment of disappointment, I’m filled with more excitement than my raging cock can contain when Rowan pushes me on my side then rotates his body so he’s lying with his face at my crotch. He wastes no time taking me into his mouth, but I taste him with patience. Licking him, kissing him, nuzzling my nose into his scrotum. It isn’t until Rowan is moaning around my dick and trying to hump my face that I open my jaw and suck him down. I snake my arm around his hip, hugging him at first, then sneaking a devilish finger between his cheeks.

Without the baby oil Rowan keeps next to his bed in Sacramento, I stick to petting the outside of his little pucker until I’ve gagged enough times on Rowan’s cock that I’ve got a plentiful cache of saliva in mouth to spit onto my fingers.

While I rub my wet fingers along Rowan’s crack, he strokes my shaft and sucks on my crown, like he’s trying to finish me off already. I jerked off in the shower this morning, after promising Rowan it wouldn’t make me late to the bus bound for the airport, but I still feel myself getting close.

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