Page 53 of Bad Call

When I opened them, I was staring into his hypnotic chestnut gaze, and I was undone. For that moment, I was under his spell. The wish, the star, and his smile had woven magic around us, even if it was a fleeting kindof magic, where faith and believing were enough to make dreams come true. This time, when my lips touched his, it wasn’t a ravenous, starving kiss that couldn’t be quenched. It was slow and steady, an exploration of tongues, a giving and receiving of mutual desire, but more than that, it was two souls coming together.Soul bonding.

Jesus Christ. This was Baylor, the bane of my existence. The man responsible for every migraine I’ve had this season. Every time he opened his mouth, I developed heartburn.Thiswas my soulmate? This was the man I was supposed to throw caution to the wind with and jump feet first?

How in the hell had I gotten here?

On paper, it might be our first date, but I’d known him for weeks, months, even. And it started from the very first night we met. It always came back to him. If he wasn’t the right man for me, I wouldn’t be sitting here contemplating soul-bonding bullshit in an empty stadium on our first real date.

This was it. This was my guy. With the stunningColgatesmile and eyes that could make me confess my darkest sins. This was the pain in the ass that would haunt me for the rest of my days.

And then he opened his mouth and broke the spell he had over me. “You were gonna fuck me, right? Cause after these tacos, I might have to clean myself out again.”

Don’t roll your eyes. Don’t roll your eyes.

Baylor had a unique way of bringing me back to reality and popping the love bubble my head was floatingin. I did have plans to edge him, to make him wait, to take him apart piece by piece in my bedroom, but hell, now I just wanted to get inside of him. Plus, he had a point about the tacos.

“Stand up, Baylor.”

“We’re leaving now? Good call.”

“You wouldn’t know a good call if it crawled up your ass and fucked you.”

“I hope it’s about to,” he said, jumping to his feet.

“Put your hands on the railing down there.” It was two rows down, and he practically took the steps in one jump, bracing his hands on the railing and widening his stance. “Drop your drawers first, doofus.”

He fumbled to drop his pants, followed by his briefs. They pooled around his ankles, limiting how wide he could spread his legs. “Like this?”

“How many ways are there to drop your pants, genius? Pop your ass out so I can see it.” I couldn’t see shit with how dark it was, but I shone the light from my phone on him, highlighting his backside.

“You’re gonna fuck me now?”

“No, just stand there for a while and let me look at you.” It was all part of the game, to humiliate him, to expose him, and make him feel self-aware. I would let him stand there for at least fifteen minutes, wondering what came next, feeling the cold air on his skin shrinking his balls.

“This isn’t what I had in mind when you told me to drop my pants.”

“I doubt there’s much on your mind. It’s empty. Youdon’t have to think; just stand there and do what I tell you.”

Baylor glanced over his shoulder, trying to see me in the dark. “Yes, Coach.”

After a minute, I added, “Spread your cheeks.” Baylor reached behind him and grabbed one cheek in each hand, spreading them for me. I could just make out the dark shadow of his hole. Fuck, I didn’t have any lube with me. If he wanted my cock, he’d have to take it with spit.

I scooted down to the first row right behind him to get a better look. I was close enough to smell his scent when the wind blew past my face. In the distance, a car alarm went off, making Baylor nervous. He glanced back again and began to straighten. “Casey?—”

Lightning quick, my foot shot out, and I kicked his legs apart. “Don’t move.” He resumed his position, keeping his mouth shut for once. “I like you like this,” I murmured, stroking my cock through my pants. “Willing and waiting. Silently begging to be filled.” Mostly, I liked the silent part. With Baylor, it happened so rarely. “How badly do you want my cock?”

He whimpered before he answered, “Please, Coach, I want it bad.”

“What would you do if I shoved inside you without any warning? Would you cry?” My fingers stroked his ass cheek. So smooth, not a hair in sight.

“N-no,” he stuttered.

“What if I fucked you hard enough to shove yourhead and chest into that railing? Would you ask me to stop?”

“No, Coach.”

“What if you accidentally came first? Would you allow me to punish you?”

“Y-yes, Coach. Can I touch myself?”

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