Page 19 of The Jock
Justin’s mouth closed.
Wes brushed his lips over Justin’s. “There’s no one else. I don’twantthere to be anyone else.” He kissed Justin again and again.
“Same,” Justin breathed. “That’s what I was trying to say. I only want you.”
Wes rolled over, pinning Justin to the mattress until they were rocking against each other again, and Justin pressed another condom into Wes’s hand. He slid back inside Justin with a sigh, resting his forehead, his cheek against Justin’s. “You feel like coming home.”
He captured Justin’s lips before he could reply, rocked his hips back and forth, slid in and out of Justin as Justin’s legs wrapped around his waist. Wes thought of white swans, of Friday night lights, of racing down the field, sprinting past the linebackers, juking past the safety, and then nothing but yards of grass and the uprights in the end zone, waiting for him to bring it home.
And there in the end zone was Justin, smiling as the stadium wind ruffled his hair, holding out his hand to Wes.
He’d kissed Justin before he confessed how far he’d fallen, but he couldn’t stop the roar of his orgasm, the blaze—the sudden, searing rush—that followed his realization. Love, desire, craving, the run he’d been making his entire life. Eyes on the ball, eyes on the ball, until suddenly there was Justin, and he couldn’t look away from the shape of his smile or the sound of his voice. Couldn’t look away as he sprinted as hard as he could to catch up with his heart.I love you.
He came with a cry, burying his face in Justin’s throat as he shuddered and emptied and squeezed his eyes shut. Justin’s hands tangled in his hair as he cursed, bucking against Wes, and a moment later, warmth spread over Wes’s belly, between them.
I love you.
Chapter Six
Tears rolleddown Justin’s cheeks despite how he’d sworn,swornhe wouldn’t cry when this moment came. He scrubbed the back of his hand across his face. Cursed as he rolled his eyes up, glaring at the ceiling.
Wes stood in front of him, staring at the ground, his face hidden by the brim of his hat.
“Fuck,” Justin hissed. “I knew this was coming. I mean, I knew for days. Why am I like this?”
Wes shook his head. All Justin saw was the shake of his cowboy hat, the slump of his shoulders. Wes hiked his duffel higher on his shoulder, shoved one hand in his pocket. “How much longer do we have?”
Justin checked his phone. “I have forty minutes until I board. Another two hours until your flight.”
After three perfect weeks, this was it. He and Wes were on separate flights to the US. Wes was going back to campus, and Justin was flying to Dallas, where his parents were picking him up and taking him home for the rest of summer.
He wasthiscloseto changing his flight, saying fuck it and going with Wes back to school. But Wes was only going to check in with Coach—no last name needed; he was the team’s god—pick up his truck, and then drive out to the ranch in West Texas, in a town so small Justin had to zoom in and zoom in and zoom in again on Google Maps before he could even see the two-lane road bleeding into the scrub desert and the cluster of buildings that formed his tiny town in the middle of nowhere.
Wes steered him toward the corner of an empty gate, not far from where his flight was waiting to board. The gate area was already crowded, everyone lining up early to try to elbow their way on first. Wes dropped his duffel and took Justin’s hands, threading their fingers together as he leaned against the wall. “What are you doing when you get back?”
“Just hanging with my parents. No plans. You?”
“Nothing but working for the rest of summer. Help out my dad as much as I can. Hopefully make some money for the fall.” He turned Justin’s hand over in his, ran his calloused finger over Justin’s smooth palm. “You sure you want to visit? It’s a long drive.”
“Yes. Absolutely yes. I don’t care how long a drive it is. I’m coming.”
Wes smiled. He tried to hide how he flushed, looking down and shielding his face with the brim of his hat. “When you come, I want to take you way out to the far ridge. It’s a two-day ride by horse. You ever ridden?”
“Boy Scouts. Petting zoos.”
“I’ll teach you.” Wes ran his thumbs over Justin’s fingers. The roughness of his hands was grounding, almost a comfort, now. “Out there, when you camp and look up at the sky? It’s like the universe is spread out in front of you. Like you can finger paint with the stars. Reach out and pluck one, keep it with you forever. I used to go out there to watch meteor showers, and I swear, one time, I thought the whole sky was coming down.”
He could picture it: Wes and his cowboy hat, riding his horse and staring at the stars. He wanted to see it in person, wanted to be a part of that world with Wes.
“We can share a sleeping bag. It gets cold at night, even in summer, but I’ll keep you warm.”
“I know you will.” He tried to be saucy, sexy, but ruined it. Instead of looking cute, his face scrunched up, and he glared at the ceiling again as he blinked fast. Wes’s thumbs kept stroking his hands. “When, um. When will you know about the team? About your position?”
Wes exhaled. “Maybe when I get back to campus. Maybe not until later this summer. If I’m second string again, then there’s no need to rush back to campus. But if I’m starter…”
“You were hardly second string last year. You had only one less start than the starter. The senior who graduated. What’s his name?”
“Watson.” Wes smiled. “You googled me.”
