No. Nope. Not going to happen.
Even though I’m so fucking hard just thinking about it. Even though I can’t get off to save my life.
It’s impossible.
I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. I haven’t come in over a week. All I’ve accomplished is edging myself into insanity.
Brody fucking broke me.
Naturally, I take it out on him the only way my broken brain can think of—I pair him with the biggest wrestlers for practice, shoulder check him every time he dares pass me, or trip him when the moment calls for it.
And I’ve stolen every pair of underwear he leaves in his locker or gym bag. Don’t ask me how I know the combination code to the new lock he bought for his gym locker. I have no boundaries anymore.
None of it fazes him.
Not. One. Bit.
Smirk. Smirk. Smirk.
The only time he reacts in even the smallest way is when Pierce makes those stupid comments about Brody’s dad and beer—whatever that’s about—and he gets a little quiet.
It’s barely noticeable. But I notice. And I hate that I notice. And I hate even more that I feel a tiny bit bad about it, because even though I don’t understand it, it clearly hurts him. And he deserves to be in as much pain as I am!
By Thursday, I swear my balls are blue and the slightest breeze makes me so hard I’ve doubled over in the middle of practice, walking across the quad, or even just sitting in the library. By Friday, I’m in so much pain I think I might need an actual doctor. The ache is second only to the mental anguish I feel over not being able to make myself come because some dickbag told me not to.
But I can’t make it through another day, another weekend, or, fucking hell, even another hour like this.
Finally, I go looking for him after practice. This needs to be dealt with. I’ve got to find a way to put an end to this without giving in to his ridiculous demand.
I hang back a little in the hopes I’ll be able to catch him alone for a moment, but I end up getting dragged into Coach’s office to discuss our first dual that’s still weeks away.
He goes over the roster, opponents, and techniques the underclassmen need to work on. I try to focus. Sort of. I’m really not capable of much cognitive effort. I can’t think past my throbbing dick, which I’ve spent most of the week hiding with baggy clothes and strategically held hoodies and bags.
To shut him up, I let out a long and overly specific rundown of every wrestler’s stats and potential weaknesses we couldexploit. Coach stares at me, maybe because it sounds like I’m badly reciting a memorized essay, or maybe because my voice is choppy and wavering.
“I’ve had some extra time in the past two weeks,” I say when he doesn’t seem to know how to respond.
It’s true. To get my mind off my boner and try to lull myself to sleep, I’ve been staring at wrestling stats and reviewing the opposing team’s footage for hours at a time.
It’s either that or spend too much time trying to make myself come, which I’ve figured out is futile, or imagine myself falling to my knees and begging Brody to touch me.
Finally, Coach lets me go.
I trudge to the locker room, intent on a brisk shower before I try to track Brody down at dinner.Ugh.What if I have to suffer the embarrassment of knocking on his dorm room?
He’s not really going to make me say it, is he?
I’m still overthinking it, barely holding back very real tears when I get to the locker room. I expected it to be empty, but there’s a shower running. And I can…
Goddamn it, I canfeelthat he’s here. My dick is basically one of those well-detector sticks now, leading me right towards the only cure for my thirst.
With heavy feet and a heavier brain, I make my way towards the sound of running water. I don’t even have the wherewithal to pretend I don’t want it to be him.
The sight of Brody’s broad, muscular back and firm, round ass has me blinking an actual tear away. Water sluices over every inch of his body, carved like a marble statue of pure sin.
His head is tipped back, eyes closed as he basks in the pressure of the shower spray.
He doesn’t know I’m here yet. I could back away. Pretend I didn’t come running to him the way he knew I would.
