Page 208 of The Locker Room

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Xander ignored Leo and Penny, and hereallyignored the press, but

he listened to Chris, because he"d always listened for Chris, and told him

the truth.

“If I"m beautiful, I"m beautiful for you.”

Chris got embarrassed with too much praise, and Xander could see

the blush over the computer screen. He loved it when Chris blushed.

One night in late March, after returning home from a painful loss to

Chicago, Xander was awakened by cool, masculine hands rubbing the

knot between his shoulders. He rolled over and into Chris"s touch with a

terrible groan, capturing Chris in an all-consuming embrace, and Chris

went willingly, yielded willingly, became six feet three inches, one

180 Amy Lane

hundred and eighty pounds of pliant muscle in Xander"s arms, and

Xander devoured him.

The kiss didn"t end until they were both naked, sweating, and

covered in come, and even then the small kisses, small touches, little

murmurs of “Oh God,” and “Wow,” and “Mmmm” kept going until their

breathing evened out and Chris was mostly asleep, tucked in against his

shoulder.

“Hey, Xander,” he mumbled, even as Xander was following him

into quiet darkness.

“Mmmmm?”

“When you gonna stop feeding those bozos shots when they can"t

get their dicks into their fists, much less the ball into the net?”

Xander chuckled softly. “When the coach stops telling them that if

„a faggot like Karcek can do it, they can too."”

Chris woke up suddenly, rolling over and looking at Xander with

eyes that got suddenly shiny in the dark. “That"s not funny.”

“Shhh…,” Xander soothed. “No, it"s not, but I bet you no one on

the team is laughing, either.”

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