“Man, you could run circles around all of us, and we’ll struggle to keep up with you,” Horace answers.
“I feel slower,” I admit.
“Come on. Let’s go play pass, and we’ll give you something to catch,” Lane says, tugging on my sleeve. “You’re a sprinter anyway.”
“You don’t have to.”
“We could all use the practice,” Franklin says. “None of us were invited to the draft.”
Excitement bubbles in my gut again, and I grin widely. Yes, it is something to be ecstatic about. I need to take a break from worrying sometimes and celebrate the wins. Being invited is a win all on its own. That means they see my potential. They think I’m good enough to be picked up by a team.
CHAPTER 32
KENDRICK
Brevan doesn’t always spend the night. In fact, I think this might be only the third time. But after we talked about going to the draft, I didn’t want to let him go back to the dorm. He struggled with wanting me to be there with him and knowing that I shouldn’t be.
Shouldn’t. He used the word ‘can’t,’ but I absolutely can… if I’m willing to risk my career.
I’ve poured through the staff handbook as well as the student handbook for hours. Far more hours than I think those who keep it up to date do. I’m pretty sure I have all the pertinent sections memorized. I’m convinced that nothing in either makes this relationship against school policy.
I’m equally convinced that it doesn’t matter if we can just hold out until graduation. If no one knows, then no one can say anything. They can ask questions after the fact, and yes, perhaps our relationship beginning two months before Brevan graduates coming to light will have ramifications, but the fact of the matter will be, he’d no longer be a student, so there’s no discussion necessary.
That only works if we keep it hidden, though.
I know how much Brevan wants me to share his draft experience with him because I want to be there with him just as badly. I want to support him in this biggest, most important step he’s made in his football career so far.
That means our simple, straightforward plan is going to go up in flames. Iknowthere’s nothing in our policies against my dating Brevan. There will be those who interpret what they want differently, as is the case with lawmakers and religious figures. Everything can be interpreted differently if the twisted want to see it that way. But as they’re written, this doesn’t break any rules.
And quite frankly, what would it matter if someone in my position dated one of the student athletes? My so-called power can’t truly touch Brevan. I’m not his coach. I’m not the dean of the athletic department, nor of the science or humanities departments. My name on anything in his file isn’t going to mean much because I have no firsthand interactions with the students.
That doesn’t mean I want to announce our relationship to the Board of Trustees by being at the draft with Brevan. There will be cameras everywhere, so even just showing up in support might be reasonable given that we’ve just been to Iceland together on the same university mission. But I know that neither of us will be entirely able to hide what’s between us at this point. Not for an entire three days under constant surveillance.
Brevan rolls over with a yawn, and his big body drapes over mine. I smile, letting my hand slide down his smooth skin. He murmurs sleepily. His hand moves over my stomach and down to my waiting dick.
It’s wild waking up with someone. My body remembers what it means to wake up beside someone much more clearly than the rest of me does. It’s ready and waiting.
His hand slides over my dick and down to my balls. As he has the previous mornings waking up together, he begins there. Massaging them. Maybe kneading them. I don’t know whether he does so for my stimulation or because he enjoys it, but he doesn’t stop messing with my nuts until I’m practically writhing under his touch while I moan.
Brevan leans over me as he reaches for the lube and a condom on the side table. While he’s stretching across my body, I suck on his nipple, earning myself a groan. But then he’s back, sliding down my body to take my dick in his mouth.
It feels as if I’m watching him through a haze. The way he sucks me never fails to turn my brain into a sludge pool. Any coherent thoughts move right out the window. His eyes remain on me as he sucks me. He’s a damn multitasker because he’s also lubing his pretty hole.
This morning, it appears he wants to ride me as he slides the condom on and straddles my hips. There’s no better feeling than the first heat of his body as I slide inside him. My breath catches while Brevan moans on top of me.
I really hope that someday we figure out how to last longer than just a few minutes. On the one hand, it’s entirely mind-blowing that this feels so good I can’t hold myself together. I’m thankful that Brevan is right there with me in that feeling.
On the other hand, I feel like a cliché. Old men don’t last when they manage to get it up. I have zero issues getting it up, but yeah, the lasting part I’m going to need to work on.
This morning doesn’t prove any different. As soon as he’s riding me, I’m nearly a goner. If I close my eyes, I’m plunged into the feeling of Brevan moving on top of me. The way his body feels so hot and tight around my cock.
If I keep my eyes open, I’m watching how his cock bounces, with drops of precum glistening on the tip. Strings of precumconnect his cock to my stomach. Watching the way my cock is swallowed by his body.
Or I’m watching Brevan’s face. The unabashed lust that paints his expression. His hands slide over his sexy body, with those muscles flexing. His back arches. His head falls back.
No matter what, it’s all sensory overload contributing to the rush of my orgasm. It’s too big, too insistent to keep in, and I finally grip his hips to hold myself deep inside him while my cock pulses.
“That feels so good,” Brevan groans, his hand wrapping around his cock to stroke himself. They’re quick, short strokes. I watch, transfixed, until his dick spurts like a hose.
