Page 18 of Bad Call

Baylor was flirting with a cute brunette, flashing his megawatt smile to make her laugh. There was no way I could walk past them without acknowledging him. I would look like a total ass.

I refused to let him make an ass out of me!

“Buchanan,” I greeted with a nod. It wasn’t until I got closer that I could see he was holding several pairs of colorful jockstraps in his hand.

“Collins,” he said happily. “Are you picking out underwear as well? Sarah might give you a hand. She’s been veryhelpful.”

My cheeks flamed. I hated how he stressed the word helpful. Just how helpful had she been? Who the hell needed help to pick out underwear?

“I’m good, thanks.” I held up the compression shirts to prove my point.

Baylor grabbed a pair of boxers from the rack. They were black with flaming baseballs on them. “If I recall, I think these might be your size.” His gaze traveled down to my crotch, and the damn thing twitched for him like a puppy, begging for a treat.

I have a traitorous cock—and a traitorous dog.

Is nothing loyal anymore?

He thrust them at me, and I grabbed them to shut him up. Knowing him, he’d start waving them proudly for all to see just to embarrass me.

I turned to leave, but he stopped me. “You hungry? We could grab a bite to eat. Dixon’s Diner has seriously delicious pickles.”

I hated him. Hated his smirking, gorgeous face.Hated how easily he sparred with me and how much he seemed to enjoy it. Hated his… everything!

Baylor winked. “Cat got your tongue, Coach?”

“Next time you eat a pickle, I hope you choke on it.”That was my best parting shot? Jeez, I need help.His laughter followed me down the aisle.

I seriously hated him.

After dinner, I took the sporting goods bag to my room to put my new shirts away. Reaching into the bag, my fingers brushed against cool, silky fabric. I pulled out the pair of black boxer shorts and snorted. They were the most ridiculous pair of underwear I’d ever seen. Tossing them onto my bed, I ignored them and put my shirts away, then grabbed a hot shower. The scalding hot water lessened some of the tension I’d been carrying with me all day since running into Baylor at the store. Running my hand over my soft cock, I remembered the way it twitched for him.

Donotthink abouthimin the shower.

Donotthink abouthimwhile touching your cock.

You can get through this shower without singing Old MacDonald.

I made it without shouting his name while coming down the drain, but when I climbed into bed, those damn boxer shorts were still there, taunting me. I reached out to touch them, so smooth and silky. So soft, just likehis skin. How were we so good together in bed, and so bad together out of it? It made no sense. In fact, the only reason I couldn’t stop thinking about him had to be because he was the last body I sank my cock into and I was horny.Beyondhorny. Not to mention I kept running into him everywhere.

Gripping the black silk, I wrapped it around my cock and began to jack my shaft. Still engorged from the heat of the shower, the silky slide of the fabric over my sensitive skin made goosebumps rise across my thighs. I spread them wider, planting my feet on the mattress, and quickened my strokes.

Thoughts of Baylor danced through my head, wearing nothing but the burgundy jockstrap I saw in his hands today. Or maybe the navy blue one. It washisbig, calloused hand stroking my dick.Hislips parted, waiting for a taste of my cum to land on his tongue. I remembered the way he sucked me that night in bed, savoring my cock slowly, like he was enjoying the taste too much to rush. What I wouldn’t give to be fucking his mouth right now.

A jolt of pleasure made my thighs twitch, and my balls draw up tight, and I came in a hot rush into the wadded-up black silk. I lay there, trying to catch my breath, waiting for my heartbeat to slow, and cursing myself for allowing the fantasy of him to bring me off.

Again.

Fuck it. I grabbed my phone.

I stared at the blank screen for five full minutes, thinking of what I wanted to say. I had noclue why, but I just felt the overwhelming urge to reach out and connect with him.

The boxers are a great fit.

If I had to think of him wearing those damn jockstraps, let him think of me wearing nothing but black silk.

Buck:

I have great taste.

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