Ex-NFL player Lionel Hightower now finds himself the captain of The Rockets arena team, a position he took to support his good friend and team owner, Bailey Thompson. When a play goes wrong and Lionel’s taken down for several weeks, Bailey suggests Lionel try his hand at coaching a potential new recruit for the team.
Lionel knows the injury might mean he’s out of the game he loves, and he also knows Bailey has thrown him a bone with the offer to coach. Lionel doesn’t want to coach, he wants to play—that is until he sees ex-college player Hayden Peterson and feels the need to get closer.
Hayden has it all. A strong body, a talent for the game, but he lacks the most important piece, passion for football. Lionel thinks he can inspire Hayden, as he tamps down the lust he feels for the man, but his desire to control Hayden makes it difficult.
But Hayden isn’t there for the football. He’s fanaticized about handsome Lionel for years and agrees simply to spend time with the man—with hopes his fantasies can become reality.
I should be with them, instead of babysitting Peterson here.
Lionel had pushed all thoughts of his attraction to Hayden out of his mind. That was until now, as he watched Hayden strip down before going for his shower.
Naked flesh appeared, one piece of clothing at a time. A broad, muscular chest. And then a bare, tight ass. When Hayden turned to walk to the shower, he did so without shame, his thick cock hanging between his thighs, the shaft not completely flaccid.
He averted his eyes.
And looked right into Hayden’s.
Heat suffused his face. Hayden had caught him taking a peek.
Hayden’s pale face turned red, allowing Lionel to know there was no doubt. He’d been caught red-handed.
Hayden moved, rushing to the shower. Lionel settled on the bench, barely able to see a sliver of the man through the opening to the showers. His gaze trailed behind Hayden’s hand as the man soaped himself up. He spied the broad, lightly furred chest being washed before the hand slipped down. Hayden grasped his cock, lathering the length as water sluiced down his body.
And Lionel was entranced.
He imagined it was his own hand, running along the shaft that was currently thickening by the minute. Lionel’s own was growing, as well. He fought the urge to touch himself, to mirror the strokes Hayden was giving himself.
Air burned in Lionel’s lungs. He could barely breathe with the need rushing through him.
I’m his coach.
Was that the best argument I could come up with?