Page 100 of Hot Streak

“Hey,” Connor croaked. “What are you doing here?”

“Seeing what you’re doing,” Jackson said. He faced the table. “Ladies, I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to pull him away.”

There was a chorus of disappointed cries. “He’s got an important throwing session tomorrow,” Jackson added. “But y’all should come catch a game sometime. He’s something to see.”

“Bet he’s not the only one,” one of the older-looking women added slyly.

“That’s true,” Connor said, his eyes lighting up. “Jackson’s here got a swing that’ll . . . well, you’ll just have to come see it to find out what it makes you do.”

Connor seemed like he was about five seconds away from telling them what it made him want to do—which was going to do nobody any favors—so Jackson grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the bar.

“What are you doing?” Connor hissed under his breath. “I was having fun with them.”

“Yeah, you were toying with them, like a kitten plays with a mouse. You weren’t ever going to pounce on one of them. You know it. I know it. They just don’t know it. And that doesn’t seem real sporting now, does it?”

Connor made a face. “I might’ve pounced.”

“No, we both know who you want to pounce on, and it isn’t any of those girls.”

The look of bare-naked longing on Connor’s face should have made Jackson feel better. But it didn’t.

“Well, I didn’t know what was going on,” Connor protested. “I thought you were . . .I was . . .we were . . .”

“Deke’s a friend and most of the team was out tonight, with us. It’s good to build team friendships,” Jackson said, even though none of that was really why he’d accepted Deke’s invitation.

Connor rolled his eyes. “No, you wanted to make me sweat it out. Ask you again. Maybe even beg you a little.”

And God, that sounded fucking amazing. He could see Connor pressed up against his front door, pants at his ankles, a stream of begging pleas falling from his lips as he played with his cock, dragging out the pleasure as long as he could.

Taking his time.

Really enjoying having Connor at his mercy, instead of wondering, with half of his brain, how quickly it needed to end.

Connor must have seen the way the fantasy took him over, because he reached out and clutched, briefly, at his wrist. “Come on,” he murmured under his breath. “Have some mercy on me, like you wanted me to have on those girls. Take me home.”

Jackson didn’t need another invitation.

“Alright,” he said, casually, like his pulse wasn’t already accelerating, like the sharp edge of anticipation wasn’t already making him bleed.

“I gotta close out my tab,” Connor said.

“You still playing knight in shining armor? Taking care of everyone else’s bill?” Jackson asked.

Connor shook his head. “Not always. Sometimes. But not always. And not today.”

“Good. They’re adults. They wanna drink? They should be able to cover it themselves.”

“Yeah but—”

“No buts,” Jackson said and grinned. “Go on, take care of the bill. I’ll meet you outside.”

As he walked towards the door, Deke shot him a knowing look, and Jackson couldn’t help but smile in response.

Yeah. Okay. He’d gone and gotten his boy.

He was only lingering outside for a minute or two before Connor joined him and after grabbing their stuff from the field house, they set out for the quick walk towards Jackson’s studio apartment.

“It’s nothing special,” he warned after they’d climbed the steps to the third floor and he had his keys out, unlocking the door.

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