Page 40 of Happy Krampus Xmas & the Meet Not Cute
“What?” I question him, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Never met a cleaner that acts like you,” he replies, staring at my rainbow hairband.
Is he for real? I cross my arms and purse my lips before I clip, “And how the hell do I act?”
“Like that,” he has the audacity to reply.
“Now I have confirmation that football players are indeed careless fools, not looking where they are going unless there’s a ball involved,” I retort sassily. Fuck him!
Instead of giving me a vitriolic reply, his lips curl up at the corner. Then he chuckles low and deep as he wipes the waterfrom his face and runs his fingers through his shoulder-length, light blond hair—his huge bicep bulges under my eager stare.
His big, brown eyes meet mine again as his large, calloused hand finds its place back on my hip, sending a shiver down my spine. The cinnamon smell coming out of him urges my tongue to come out and play. It’s a very bad idea to go there. But damn, he’s handsome.
“I think it’s time to get you back to dry and pristine again.” I lift my torso up and push my palms against his fabulous, hard, squeezable pecs again.
He frowns and then winces. I feel his half-hard dick right against my ass, and J-e-s-u-s, he’s packed.
“Pristine? Dude, you look like a mess, too.” His words register after a second.
I follow the direction of his gaze down to my damp shirt, half-drenched pants and socks getting soaked on the wet floor.
I hesitantly move above him, standing all the way up when I’m sure I won’t slip once again. My knee and elbow hurt, but the ache is manageable. Had much worse in the past. I shift away from him as he moves into a sitting position. My eyes fall on his still half-hard dick for less than a blink of an eye before he covers it with his hands and attempts standing up. Is he a gymnophobic? Is that why he’s showering alone?
He’s taller than me, and definitely bigger. It’s like being near a brick wall, if said wall had jumbo, rocky muscles sticking out from…everywhere and sexy, veiny arms.
His hands are unfortunately still on his groin as he takes a step forward.
“Easy.” I haven’t finished uttering the warning when he slips once again. This time, I’m there to catch him. His massive weight makes it impossible for me to hold him up, and I fall back against the wall with a thud. My shoulder hits the hard surface as the jock falls on me—him and his entire boulder-heavy body.
I just discovered the literal meaning of being caught between a rock and a hard place.
“Fuck! What the hell is wrong with the floor?” he pants near my ear with his smoky, rough voice, before pulling his head back. His nose is large and a bit crooked, and his chestnut brown eyes have some green in them.
“I sprayed some cleaner since I wascleaning,” I say brusquely.
He keeps his hips away from mine, but his wet chest is plastered to my torso. I can feel his heartbeat pounding against mine.
He nods and swallows. His bobbing Adam’s apple catches my attention for a second. He’s so close, I can feel his warm breath on my lips. “We aren’t supposed to be in the locker room in the evening. I didn’t realize the time.” Is this supposed to be an apology?
A cold shiver makes me tremble all over. We’re both wet. “Let’s get out of here with all our bones in the right places.”
“Jesus, don’t jinx it, man.” Guess it’s true that jocks are a superstitious bunch. I mime zipping my lips. The silent gesture earns a chuckle from him, rumbly and deep. It fuels jolts of pleasure rocketing along my back.
I start sliding forward, holding him around his biceps and waist while he has one hand on the wall near my head and the other on his junk. We are almost out of the shower when I hear noises,and then four guys appear in front of us. They must be jocks as well, judging by their size and the arrogant way they carry themselves.
“What the fuck, TJ?” the shorter one snarls, his eyes quickly assessing my wet clothes and the jock’s—TJ—lack of them.
“The fuck are you doing?” another one asks with an accusing tone, gazing at my shoes in the middle of the shower floor.
Ah, the homophobic crowd. It always pops up unwelcome and jumps to the wrong conclusions. The spewing, nonsensical part should come up soon.
I snort. “I thought it'd appear obvious, we’re getting out of the shower.”
“Get off him!” the short one barks at me.
I hate being right sometimes.Can’t he see that I’m holding him up?
“Stop fucking touching him,” I hear another one hiss.
