Page 53 of The Quarterback
“I can’t imagine being in bed with any other man.” He couldn’t imagine being in bed with anyone else at all, really. He hadn’t since the separation, when he’d realized he and Cynthia would never make love again. He couldn’t think of her in that way, not after she’d said what she’d said, become who she’d become. And then he hadn’t been able to imagine anyone else in his bed or in his arms.
He could picture him and Colton, though. Hard, hot, sweaty nights, straining muscles and tangled lips. Colton, breathless and looking at him like he was right now.
“Are we— Are we going to do this?” Colton asked.
Hot nights were one thing. Living day to day was another. Living in the real world, where they were Colton and Nick, where they had jobs, friends… and families.
Justin’s face slammed into Nick’s heart again. God. What would he think about Nick sleeping with Colton? Not just his friend, but a man Justin’s own age?
He skirted that thought. It was too raw, made his skin curl up from the inside. Colton was more than his age, but that would be all some people saw.Dirty old man. Cradle robber.Never mind who Colton was, who he’d become to Nick. What they were, together.
Would Justin see any of that?
What would Justin say to Nick sleeping with a man? Nick, who’d never once shown a homosexual urge or inclination. Was there some point where he should have reached out to Justin about this? Asked Justin’s advice or told him he was approaching a major crossroads in his life and his identity? At the very least, said to him, “Hey, I’m thinking about taking Colton as my lover.”
When would that have been? Sometime between midnight and now, when all he could think about was how to hold himself and Colton together and keep Colton’s heart from blowing away on the Texas wind?
He hadn’t told Justin before, so he’d have to tell him after.
If he and Colton were going to do this.
What if this was just summer and sensation, Colton needing affection and care as he faced his own crucible, and what Nick had tried to provide him got twisted and knotted somehow and now they werehere? What if, in a few weeks, Colton worked this out of his system and they went back to being friends? Awkward friends, maybe, but friends. Who the hell was Nick, compared to football and the NFL and Colton’s glittering future?
Maybe this was a fling. Something the world never needed to know about, because it would hurt Colton if they did. Should Colton be punished for a few weeks of intoxicating sex, if they were just moments in his life? Or should this stay secret? From everybody?
He kissed Colton again, his lips lingering, then deepening, against Colton’s. What could this be between them? What did he want it to be?
What if what he wanted outgrew what Colton wanted?
“Can we take it day by day?” he asked softly.
Colton nodded and squeezed his hand so tight it hurt. He kissed Nick, smiling—beaming—as the hand holding Nick’s started to shake.
He kissed Colton back and tried to push Justin out of his mind. Just for a little longer. Just until he figured out what to do.
Chapter Sixteen
They stayed in bed,lying side by side, fingers tracing slow paths up arms and over shoulders and between their pecs. Colton’s body was so different from Cynthia’s, and Nick’s mind automatically drew parallels and made comparisons. Hard muscles instead of round breasts. Firm skin where he was used to more give. Colton had a flat stomach—not quite a washboard, but hard enough Nick could feel the cut of his abs when he ran his palm down Colton’s belly. Jutting, sharp hip bones, instead of the comfortable curves Cynthia had carried ever since she’d borne Justin.
Other, more obvious differences. He wrapped his hand around Colton’s hard length and stroked him, smiling as Colton shivered and shook and bit his lip. They stared into each other’s eyes, never blinking, never looking away, as he jacked Colton and learned what he liked. Pressure, a twist of Nick’s wrist. His thumb rolling over the head, smearing Colton’s precome over his crown.
Colton was young, and Nick made him come three times before Colton pushed his hands away and tried to curl into a fetal position. “No more,” he begged. “Too sensitive.”
He kissed Colton and grinned. Tangled his leg through Colton’s thighs. Slid his fingers between Colton’s. “I’m a giver.” He nuzzled Colton’s cheek. “I like seeing you come. I like hearing you say my name when you do, too.”
Colton shivered again, and he opened his mouth to reply, but the shrill clang of twin phone alarms shattered the stillness of the bedroom. They broke apart, eyes wide. “My phone,” Colton blurted.
“Mine, too.”
They grabbed their clothes off the floor and fished their phones from their pockets. Nick silenced his alarm and cursed when he saw the calendar notification. “Shit. You have your doctor’s appointment in thirty minutes.”
How could he have forgotten? Colton, they hoped, was getting his sling off and moving to the third phase of his physical therapy: active movement. Slow, steady strength training. The grind of getting back to quarterbacking. The appointment was why they’d seen Kimbrough on Thursday and come back on Friday rather than staying the weekend and going out to Lubbock with Kimbrough on his corporate jet.
Well, he’d been a little distracted, he supposed.
They flew through a shower together, soaping each other up and washing their hair, spending precious moments touching again until they had to really run. Colton dashed to Justin’s bedroom for clean clothes while Nick pulled on fresh jeans and a T-shirt. Down to the garage, and then they raced across town, getting to the doctor’s office only five minutes late.
“Hmm,” the doctor said when he got Colton’s sling and T-shirt off. He examined Colton’s shoulder, manipulating it up and down carefully. Colton clenched his teeth and held Nick’s stare.
