Page 63 of Off Season

He grips my chin, his warm breath ghosting over my mouth. The way his lips slowly teases me by barely touching mine makes me whimper and groan as I become desperate for more.

“No.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I fucking love it,” he growls, and my body shivers from my head to my toes.

Ethan drops his hand from my chin and lifts the hem of my t-shirt, tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor before pushing down the shorts he was admiring only seconds ago. I lift my feet to step out of them, and he kicks them out of the way.

“And here I was, thinking you liked those shorts!”

“Stand there,” he orders, ignoring my taunt and points to the full-length mirror that lines one wall of his gym. “And don’t move.”

Doing as instructed, I step around him and walk to the mirror. I can feel his gaze roaming my body from behind me, and heat prickles all over my skin. I subtly wipe my palms on the elastic waistband of my underwear, watching as he prowls toward me.

Determined.

Hungry.

I take in our reflection in the mirror as Ethan steps up behind me.

We’re so different. Everything about him turns me on. He’s a good five inches taller than me. His torso is as wide as my shoulders. The dark smattering of hair covering his hard, sculpted pecs. He’s all strong arms and thick thighs and luscious calves.

I’m not built like that. Maybe I should be self-conscious about it and about him being fully clothed while I’m in a jockstrap. But I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter.

Because we fit.

Because the way he takes me in makes me feel like…more.

Superior, in a way.

Like I can do anything. Like I’m the sexiest man alive, and I’ve never experienced that with previous guys.

My hands twist in front of me—I’m not sure what to do with them. I want to touch myself, but he told me not to move. My cock throbs. Pre-come seeps through the fabric of my jock, and when he tosses his t-shirt aside and drops his basketball shorts, an appreciative groan escapes me.

Does the whole not touching myself thing include jerking off?

The heat of his body warms my back as he presses his chest against me. Those dark orbs focus on me as he leans down and says, “Now, Jacob, I want you to keep your eyes open. I want you to watch every moment. If you shut them, I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

I’ve lost my ability to speak, so I just nod.

“Good boy.”

Fuck. Me.

Why does that make me lose my goddamn mind in the best possible way?

My eyes are glued to the mirror, watching as this man wraps a hand around my throat, while smoothing the other down my stomach to the juncture of my thighs. The tips of his fingers skim the fabric of my underwear, causing my entire body to vibrate with need.

His tongue peeks out to flick the lobe of my ear, then tugs it between his teeth. I’m fighting myself because I want to close my eyes and give in to the pleasure so bad. But also, I don’t want him to stop.

“You’re fucking breathtaking,” Ethan whispers.

He trails his calloused fingertips up my stomach, ghosting over my belly button to the center of my chest.

A small gasp escapes me as he pinches my nipple. He’s gentle, but every movement he makes is controlled and powerful, one hand still around my throat, fingers digging into the underside of my jaw just slightly.

My hands clench into fists at my sides. I’m desperate to touch myself. To touch him. For him to finally touch me the way I want him to. But I love letting Ethan take control. It’s something I never expected to enjoy so much, given my history with “jocks,” but Ethan is different.

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