Played, p.1
Played, page 1
Played
He’s Mine University Edition
B. Jaycox
Copyright © 2022 by B. Jaycox
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Note to Readers
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Thank you
About the Author
Also by B. Jaycox
Contact Us
Note to Readers
Content Warning:
This book contains hate speech and homophobic slurs.
Blurb
It’s all about how you play the game until your heart’s on the line.
Avery’s focus has always been on football. He dreams of the day he’ll be drafted into the NFL—he just has to make it through college first. During a tutoring session, in walks the man he knows will set his world on fire. His fantasies get a lot more complicated when he discovers who it is. But Avery’s never turned his back on a challenge, and he intends to win this one, whatever it takes. It’s all about how the game is played.
Eric loved playing football until he didn’t. His retirement from the NFL and an unexpected phone call change his life forever. A new job and spending time with old friends are exactly what he needs. Finding someone to go home to at night wouldn’t hurt either. But the one person to catch his eye is off limits—forbidden. The pull is strong, and Eric knows it could derail his plans if he’s not careful. But sometimes, rules are meant to be broken. It’s all about how the game is played.
1
There he is again, his tight dress pants hugging his ass and his rolled-up sleeves displaying his tatted forearms. The yellow tie is a nice addition to his outfit today. Usually, he goes without one. It gives him a more professional look, but I think I like him without it and his shirt open where I can catch the barest glimpse of the dark hair on his chest.
I have a thing for older men, and he pushes all my buttons. He reminds me of the underwear model whose picture I saw in a magazine when I was in ninth grade. It was when I realized I was gay. I’d jerked off so many times looking at it I’d finally had to throw it away. I don’t want to think about how many times I’ve jerked off to this guy’s image in my head. I have a feeling he’ll star in my late-night fantasies for a long time.
A bead of sweat rolls down my back as I watch his ass flex with each step up the stairs. My dick perks up at the sight. He pauses and glances over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes to scan the quad. I duck behind a tree to avoid him seeing me. Nothing says stalker like some creepy college kid following you around.
I’ve seen him on campus coming and going from the athletic director’s office several times. No one will say why he’s here, and I don’t even know his name, but he looks familiar. I’d racked my brain for days, trying to figure it out after seeing him for the first time.
I’d been in the library with Ian, an upperclassman who’d tutored me in introductory psychology. A hush fell over the room when three men stalked in, drawing everyone’s attention. Ian is smaller than me, so my natural instinct was to protect him. But then I saw this guy. Our eyes met across the table, and I’d thought we had an instant connection. I didn’t know if he was gay, but I’d hardly paid attention to what was happening around me after that other than waving goodbye to Ian as the more intimidating-looking guy ushered him out. Then he turned around and left before I could say anything other than my name. He was already gone by the time I’d gotten myself together and rushed out the door. I’d discreetly asked Ian about him, but he didn’t know who I was talking about.
When I spotted the guy again a few days later, I followed him to the Physical Health and Education building. I’d stuck to the shadows so he wouldn’t see me, but he’d turned around as if he could sense me there.
Like now.
“Bro! What are you doing hidin’ behind a tree?” I jump as Billy, my roommate, walks up behind me and slaps me on the back hard, causing me to stumble.
“Shit, dude! You scared me.” I rest a hand over my racing heart and take some deep breaths, trying to calm the fuck down.
“What are we staring at?” Billy peeks around the tree, and I yank him back.
“Nothing!” I say a little too quickly. No way am I telling him I’ve been stalking this guy who’s probably closer to my dad’s age than mine. Or that he gives me a chub every time I see him. I reach down to adjust my dick as nonchalantly as I can.
Billy notices and eyes me suspiciously. “Is it some girl?” He sticks his head out again, trying to see around me.
I jump in front of him, blocking his view of the steps, hoping the guy’s already gone inside. “Dude. You know I’m gay,” I say to distract him.
It’s never been a secret I like guys. If someone has a problem with it, that’s… well… their problem, not mine. I made sure Billy knew the first day we met and moved into the dorms together. He was cool with it. We created the code word socks so we could text each other if we needed the room for privacy, like a sock is on the door, so the room is occupied. Not that either of us has used it yet—he’s no better in the dating department than I am—but we keep that to ourselves.
Most of my teammates are accepting. Those who don’t approve usually keep their mouths shut other than the occasional joke. The school administration has made it clear they won’t tolerate bullying or bigotry, but they can’t watch everyone. So far, any harassment I’ve encountered hasn’t been anything I can’t handle.
There are a couple of guys on the team, I’m pretty sure they are still in the closet, but I’m not about to out them. Just because I have a loving dad who’s bisexual doesn’t mean everyone is as lucky. And they’ll let people know when they’re ready.
“Whatever. What time did Coach want us at the fieldhouse?” He pulls out a protein bar from his pocket and stuffs it into his mouth.
“Three. Do you know what this special meeting is about? Practice doesn’t start for two more months.” I can’t wait for the upcoming season.
The entire campus is gearing up for graduation on Saturday. I wouldn’t normally go, but since Ian is graduating, I want to be there to support him after all he’s done for me. I’d never have made it through Psych 101 without him. If I hadn’t passed the class this semester, I wouldn’t be able to play ball in the fall. I’m already itching to get back on the field, but we have to get through the summer first.
As a freshman, I’m low man on the totem pole and biding my time on the bench. I don’t mind. We all have to pay our dues. I’ve never wanted much more than to play ball and make my old man proud of me, but if I get benched permanently for bad grades, neither of us will be happy.
“Everyone’s keeping it all hush-hush. Probably something stupid, like new uniforms or some shit like that. Anywho, you going to the party Saturday night after graduation? One last hurrah with the seniors.” He rubs his hands together like he’s about to devour the best dessert in the world.
He’s a defensive lineman and one of the friendliest guys I know. He also loves a good party.
I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, I don’t know, man.” I’ve never been much of a partier, preferring to spend my time and energy in workouts or practice. When mom was sick, I spent my time with her. Before she passed away, she told me to let loose once in a while and just be a kid. To me, being a kid meant playing ball. I’m always happiest on the field, but as I got older and discovered boys, I found something I could focus on besides football. I love how guys smell and the feel of their hard muscles. I wonder how tight that guy’s muscles are or if he smells as fresh as he looks…
“Aw, come on, man. You didn’t go last time,” Billy whines, snapping me out of my daydream. “This one’s sure to be a blast. It’s at the Sigma Mu house or something like that. Anyway, I heard they’ve got a DJ, and you’re supposed to wear anything but clothes.”
“What the hell? Everyone goes naked?” As much as I’d love to see all those hot guys parading around in nothing, I don’t think most of them would appreciate me drooling over them.
“No, dumbass. You dress in something that’s not clothes. No shirts or pants. You make an outfit out of garbage bags, newspapers, sheets, or duct tape, though that’s probably not comfortable, especially when you have to take it off. Anything except actual clothes.”
“I don’t think I have stuff for that. And there’s no way in hell I’m putting duct tape on my body.” I cringe, thinking of all the hair in places that aren’t meant to be covered in tape.
“Come on, man. I’ll help you get something together. There’s bound to be some other gays there.” He waggles his eyebrows and thrusts his hips.
I roll my eyes at his antics. Billy’s a good guy who means well, but he’s always trying to set me up with someone. Problem is, he doesn’t know who’s gay and who’s not. Most straight boys don’t find it flattering to be hit on by a guy. And I’m not interested in the ones who only want to experiment. Besides, I’d rather date someone older and more mature. Speaking of which…
I p eek around the tree while Billy babbles on about the party and let out an unmanly squeak when I come face to face with my recent obsession.
“Can I help you boys with something?”
His rich voice rolls down my spine, and my dick perks up instantly. “Shit!” I shove my hands in my cargo shorts pockets and push them forward to hide my hard-on.
He stares at me, feet braced apart and arms crossed. I can’t decide if he’s angry, amused, or curious. The soft breeze ruffles his perfectly styled hair, causing a piece to fall across his forehead. I squeeze my hands inside my pockets to keep from reaching up and sweeping it aside. I’m already a stalker. I don’t need to add weirdo to the list.
“Hey, man. You’re Eric Nash! You played for the New England Warriors as a wide receiver,” Billy shouts. Some of the students around the quad turn our way. “I’m a huge fan.” He reaches over, grabs Eric’s hand, and shakes it hard enough to rattle the man’s teeth. Funny how the guy played the same position as me.
“Ease up, dude,” I say through gritted teeth. I can’t explain why, but seeing Billy touch Eric causes a spark of anger to ignite in me. I want to jerk Billy’s hand away. I rub my chest to dispel the feeling. It’s not because Billy’s gay—he’s not—but some possessive part of me sees Eric as mine, even if I’ve never spoken to him and have only seen him from a distance until now.
“But this is Eric Nash!” He says and points to the man in question as if that explains it all.
A vague memory of someone mentioning Eric Nash being from here and playing in the NFL crosses my mind. Now that I think about it, I remember seeing his jersey in the glass case in the gym.
“What are you doing here?” Billy’s still looking at Eric with stars in his eyes, and it pisses me off.
“Just had some business to attend to. What are you boys doing lurking around behind trees?” He looks over at me and raises a well-manicured eyebrow like he knows exactly what I’ve been doing and is waiting to catch me in a lie. Busted.
“Avery’s just scoping out some guy he’s got the hots for,” Billy blurts out, and I groan internally. I’m going to use him as a punching bag when practice starts. Maybe then he’ll keep his fucking mouth shut.
“No, I wasn’t. I…”—Eric’s steely gaze bores holes into me as I search for something believable to say—“was waiting on Mr. Johnson, the AD. Yeah. That’s what I was doing.” I mentally pat myself on the back for my quick thinking.
Billy whips his head around and stares at me like I’ve got two heads. He starts to say something, and I kick him in the shin, cutting him off. “Shit!” He reaches down to rub his abused leg and narrows his eyes as he glares up at me.
“Oops. Sorry.” I shoot him a look that says shut the hell up.
“Well, he’s free now. You’d better get on in there”—Eric nods toward the PH&E building—“Avery.”
The way my name rolls off his tongue causes my dick to pulse. I need to get out of here before he notices. Or I make a fool of myself and blow my wad right in front of everyone in the quad. Whichever comes first. No pun intended. “Uh, yeah, sure. Come on, Billy.”
“But I want to ask Eric about that play in the third quarter against Miami in 2017. That catch, man. Brilliant.”
I grab Billy by the collar of his t-shirt and pull him away from Eric. “Let’s go. Now. Before we’re late,” I grind out through clenched teeth.
“Late for what?”
I pop him on the back of the head. “Our meeting,” I say, hoping he’ll get the hint and quit asking questions. It’s embarrassing enough to be caught stalking. I don’t want to explain to Eric why I was following him.
“See you later, man,” Billy throws over his shoulder as I drag him toward the building.
“Yeah… see you later,” Eric says. When I glance back at him, he’s still standing where we left him, his penetrating gaze following us across the grass.
I resist the urge to flex my ass a little and hold back another shiver. I’ll be dreaming about that intense look tonight, for sure.
We make it to the steps before Billy tugs on his shirt collar I’m still holding. “What the fuck, bro? That was a once-in-a-lifetime chance! That was Eric Nash!”
“I know. You’ve told me a million times already.” I don’t know how I feel about Billy having a hard-on for the guy. Well, not in the literal sense, but still… this unfamiliar feeling of jealousy grips me when I think about Billy being so fixated on Eric. He’s my obsession.
I’ll unpack that bit of self-revelation later.
“He’s probably here for alumni shit or something. I’m sure you’ll see him again.” I don’t tell him I’ve seen Eric on campus for the last couple of weeks or that I’ve been watching him. Who knows how long he’ll be around, so there’s no need to give Billy any ammunition against me.
“Whatever.” Billy pokes his lips out in an exaggerated pout, but I don’t care. All I want to do is get him away from Eric. He’s mine.
“Come on. It’s almost three. We don’t want to be late.”
I head toward the fieldhouse and into the locker room with Billy trailing behind. A few of the guys are already here, gossiping like a bunch of old hens.
“Well, Tommy said he didn’t believe her tits were real. He said they were hard,” Emmett says to Jacob.
Jacob’s a freshman, too. He’s one of the biggest guys on the team. As a defensive lineman, like Billy, he needs to be, and he’s mean on the field, but off? He’s a quiet softie. As grandma would say, he’s an old soul. Emmett’s our second-string kicker. He used to play soccer before the school talked him into trying out for football.
“But why would they be hard?” Jacob mumbles as he shudders dramatically.
“Bullins, when was the last time you even touched a tit? I bet it was your momma’s,” Zack replies, laughing hysterically like he just told the world’s funniest joke. As the junior QB moving into the top position after graduation, he’s earned the right to be cocky, but he’s also an asshole. I wish someone would take him down a peg or two. Or three. I hate how he teases Jacob.
“Give it a rest, Davis.”
“What’s the matter, Thompson? Did I offend your daddy bear?” Zack cackles again like an old witch. He’s one of the few on the team who thinks it’s funny to tease me about being gay. He sure would hate it if I spilled the beans of how he approached me at a frat party back in the fall asking for a blow job. Of course, he was probably too drunk to remember, but you know what they say… Drunk words, sober thoughts.
“No, that would be your dad,” I retort.
“Why, you little—”
I sidestep when he lunges for me.
“What the hell, boys? Save it for the field.” Coach Brown stalks in. He’s probably old enough to be my grandpa and mean as a snake, but he’s a great coach. I’ve already learned a lot from him in only one season.
Zack shoots an icy glare at me, promising me there’s retribution in my future. He won’t touch me himself—as quarterback, he has to protect his hand and arm—but he has a few of his minions around who’ll do his dirty work, hoping to get in good with his crowd. I’m not worried. My boys will have my back—us freshies stick together. Well, not freshmen anymore after Saturday.
The rest of the team, minus the seniors, trickles in until we’re squished together on the benches or lined up against the lockers. Coach Brown stands by the door, waiting for us to settle.
“I’ve been at this school for nearly twenty years. I don’t know why they’ve kept an old goat like me around, but they have.” Someone in the back bleats, and everyone chuckles. “Settle down, you knotheads. But the time has come for me to turn the reins over to someone younger. Someone who’ll bring new ideas to this team.” A hush falls over the locker room. Everyone is as shocked as I am. Coach Brown is leaving?
