Page 18 of No More Jocks

“Marcus, stop because if you don’t, I’m going to nut in my pants,” I whispered, heat flooding my cheeks.

“And what’s wrong with that?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Well, I don’t have a change of clothes,” I finally managed to say, laughter mingled with my embarrassment.

“Then we can skip the movie and go to your house and do the nasty.” Marcus exchanged my neck for my lips, and the next thing I knew, he was on top of me, dry humping me in the Uber SUV.

I knew the Uber driver knew what we were doing because it was now apparent, and to be quite honest, I thought it turned her on. My mind told me to stop this, but when I felt his bulge rubbing against me, I couldn’t. I was bewitched by his charm.

“We’re here,” yelled the Uber driver just in the nick of time because if she had said it a few seconds later, I would have exploded in my pants. She smiled when she turned around and saw Marcus between my legs.

“Sorry, we got caught up in the moment,” I replied, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“It’s okay; my girlfriend and I do it whenever and wherever we get a chance.” She handed me a card. “Call me if you ever need a ride or want to double date. We’re new in town and looking forward to hanging with other LGBT couples.”

I took the card and slipped it into my pocket, still reeling from the moment.

“Thank you so much. I’ll definitely reach out.”

Marcus slowly rose from between my legs and got out of the car. I tried to get out of the car with him, but he held up his hand, motioning for me to stay inside. He closed his door, rushed to the other side, and opened the door for me.

Where has this guy been all my life? A handsome jock who is also a gentleman. God, please don’t let this be a dream.

Our Uber driver waved at us, and I waved back. I left her a 5-star rating and tipped her another twenty dollars. She could have been an ass about us making out in the back of her SUV, but she was cool about it, and I appreciated that.

“Hey, why didn’t you drive? Don’t you have a car?”

“Because I wanted to make out with you in the Uber,” I lied.

“You’re such a nasty boy. Nice Gucci sweater.” I was going to kill Marissa. I knew I shouldn’t have worn Gucci. Marcus opened the door to the theatre. I appreciated his chivalry.

I don’t think any guy I dated had ever opened the door for me. I froze as we walked into the theatre, and fear crippled my body. I tried to move, but I couldn’t. My worst nightmare had come to life. Standing in the middle of the movie theatre with another guy who could have been my twin was my ex-Bradley Simmons.

11

MARCUS

Iwaited a few seconds for Caleb to walk into the movie theater, but he just stood in the middle of the doorway, blocking the entrance and forcing the other patrons to enter and exit through a different set of doors. I nodded and mouthed an apology to a young lady who rolled her eyes, and to a gentleman who looked at me for too long, making me uncomfortable. Guys always stared at me, and I never knew if it was admiration for my physique or if they were interested in me. I shifted my eyes back to Caleb, ignoring the stranger's gaze.

I gripped Caleb by the waist and whispered, “What’s wrong? You act like you’ve seen a ghost.” Immediately, he snapped out of his trance and turned toward me.

“How about we go to another theater? My treat,” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

“Why? When we have free seats here and free snacks? This is one of my favorite Marvel franchises, and we’re going to miss the previews if we don’t get our snacks and head to our seats.”

“Do you trust me?” Caleb asked, his eyes pleading.

Where was this coming from? Was this the same guy I was making out with in the car, the guy that was hard for me? Why did he suddenly want to leave? What happened in the last two minutes that would cause his entire demeanor to change?

Coming toward us was a tall, muscular dark chocolate guy that looked like a young but buffer Tyson Beckford. It was Bradley Simmons, the first draft pick for the Philadelphia Ravens. This guy was way more massive in person than on television. His presence seemed to suck the air out of the room, making the atmosphere thick with tension.

“Caleb,” I said softly, sensing the tension in the air. “Is everything okay?”

Caleb’s eyes darted between Bradley and me, his face pale. “Marcus, we need to go. Now.”

I was taken aback by the urgency in his voice. “Why? What’s going on?”

Bradley’s gaze locked onto Caleb, and I could see a mix of recognition and something darker in his eyes. Caleb grabbed my hand, his grip tight. “Please, Marcus. Let’s just leave.”

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