“Oh—!” I halt, nearly slipping on the moist floor. My eyes crash down, just like Bob told me to, and I keep them there. “Sorry, I was told the team was gone and—”
“It’s okay, Ellie.”
His chuckle fires down my spine.
I look up to see Junior Morgan standing there in nothing but a damp, white towel. His skin is wet with little rivulets of water still tumbling down to his toes. I press my lips together, my eyes instantly drawn to the tattoos staining his white skin, along with the muscles pushing out beneath them.
Whoa.
“Oh, Ellie.” He lets out a quick whistle. “I’m up here.”
I clear my throat and force my eyes to meet his. “I was just looking—”
“For your dad.” He grins, reaching into his open locker for a stick of deodorant.
“Right.” I take a breath. “Why didn’t you say you were in here?”
“Well, you weren’t screaming my name.” He shoots me the briefest of glances, just a quick check to see whether or not I’m still gawking at him as he glides the deodorant under his armpits.
Heat spreads over my skin. It’s far too warm in here for this sweater but there’s no way I’m taking it off with Junior Morgan standing half buck in front of me. A bead of sweat travels down my back, tickling my nerves with welcome discomfort.
“He left a few minutes ago,” Junior adds. “Before I got in the shower.”
“Oh. Thanks.” I turn my back to him, eager to put a mile of distance between us before I let that Adonis belt of his turn me extra stupid.
“Leaving so soon?” he asks, amusement dripping off his tone. “You just got here.”
Don’t let him bait you. Don’t turn around. Just say nothing and leave.
I turn around and look at him, my pulse quickening at the stiff, wet strands of his dark hair poking down to his eyes.
Extra stupid.
“You’re naked,” I say.
He shrugs. “I know.”
“So… that means I should leave.”
“If you wanted to leave, you would have left by now.”
I twist away, spinning on my heels to take me far, far away from that throbbing magnet begging to keep me here. “Bye, Junior.”
“Wait. Come here.”
“I have to meet my dad.”
“It’ll only take a minute, Ellie. I promise.”
I pause my stride, a battle raging between my head and my core. When I look back at him, he draws an X over his upper chest, slicing two lines through the moisture built up on his skin.
“Cross my heart,” he says.
“Why?” I ask, stalling.
“Because I have a theory and I would like to test it.”
“I didn’t realize you were such a science enthusiast, Junior.”
“Just biology,” he smirks.
I cross my arms, trying to ignore the next wave of heat coursing through me. Everything about him bleeds confidence right now and I despise him for it. Mostly because it’s working exactly how he wants. I’m pretty sure the wetness between my thighs isn’t from the steam in here.
“Come here,” he says again. “No games, no bullshit. Just come here.”
My feet pull me forward on their own, bridging the distance between us. As I move closer, I see the finer details of his tattoos and the water still glistening against his skin. Or is it sweat? Oh, god — who cares?
“Touch it.”
I snap out of it. “Huh? No—”
“Come on, Ellie.” Junior stands up a little taller, his hooded eyes calling every bluff I have in me. “I can tell you want to. Just do it.”
My lungs take quick, shallow breaths, never quite satisfied with the thick, locker room air. I reach out, pointing one finger, and slowly trace it over his abs.
He flexes against my touch, protruding them even more and I can’t help but suck in my bottom lip.
“Ellie.” He chuckles.
I twitch. “What?”
“I wasn’t talking about my abs.”
My eyes jump to his and he smirks as he pulls the white towel away.
I gasp silently at his reveal, bewitched by the stunning V-shape trailing down to his package.
My mouth waters. A bolt of pleasure tingles my spine.
Junior Morgan is hung like a fucking horse.
“Touch it,” he says again, holding a hard, demanding tone.
I lick my lips and my fingers move on instinct, drawing a line down his dripping happy trail. I pause to admire his Adonis belt again but that only whips up a mental image of my tongue gliding over it and I can practically taste the clean shower water on his skin.
I swallow and look up at him again as my fingertips reach the base of his rock-hard cock.
Junior leans forward and places both hands on the locker behind my head, trapping me between them. “Don’t worry. It won’t bite,” he teases. “Well... it might spit.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. I watch him as I let my finger crawl up his base, following the trail of pulsing veins along his shaft.
His brown irises twitch softly. A sharp inhale invades his nose. I like it. I like how much desire he breathes from a single touch and I want to hear it again.
I reach the head of his penis and I pause, holding back my own needs in favor of prolonging his.
Junior growls softly, just barely audible behind his breath. “Ellie...” He steps forward until his wet chest presses against me and I feel his hot breath rush past my face. “You see what you do to me?”
I nod.
He leans closer and I feel his lips brush my cheek. “Do I do the same to you?”
“Eliza?”
I jolt at the sound of my father’s booming voice. “Oh, fuck!” I whisper.
I slide to the floor and crawl away from Junior, bolting around the bench to hide behind the lockers out of sight.
Junior follows me, calm as ever, as he wraps his towel back around his waist. “What are you doing?”
“Eliza, are you in here?” my father calls from the doorway.
“Hiding.”
Junior smirks with confusion, lowering his voice to meet mine. “Why?”
“Because if he finds me here, I’m in deep shit.”
“But you came in here looking for him...”
“And I found you instead and he really doesn’t want me talking to you guys.”
His eyes sparkle. “Really?”
“If he finds you talking to me, he’ll make you do laps until sundown.”
He pauses, chewing on his mouth. “Worth it.”
“Come on, Junior—”
“Who’s in here?”
Junior leans down. “Go out with me tonight and I’ll tell him you’re not here.”
My cheeks turn red, but I’m far from blushing. “Are you fucking serious?”
He grins as my father’s shoes tap against the floor.
I let out a seething sigh. “Fine.” I slink back, fearing the sound bounding toward us.
Junior winks at me and turns away, strategically holding his towel together to keep Junior junior from springing out in front of his coach.
“Hey, Coach,” I hear him say by his locker.
“Hey, Junior.”
I focus my ears, trying to pinpoint my father’s exact location in case I have to move but my heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear him. My fingers throb, the memory of what I was just touching still alive on them. I stuff them into my sweater pockets.