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Rivals in bed part 5
publish date:
2026-10-20 20:19:51
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Men After Dark The Injured Athlete & His Physical Therapist part 3
Chapter 3 Five days in and the apartment had started to smell like them. Ice packs left to melt on the counter. The sharp clean scent of the gel Rowan used on the incision. Sex. Cole noticed it every time he came back from the short, supervised walks Rowan now allowed. The place no longer felt like a recovery cage. It felt occupied. Rowan arrived at the usual time, bag over one shoulder, expression unreadable. He checked the swelling with the same clinical focus as always, fingers pressing carefully around the joint while Cole sat on the edge of the couch in nothing but shorts. “Better,” Rowan said. “We’ll load it today. Partial weight-bearing, controlled.” He had Cole stand between the kitchen counter and the heavy chair, using both for balance while he shifted weight onto the bad leg in small increments. Rowan’s hands stayed at Cole’s hips, correcting every micro-adjustment. The contact was necessary. It was also the reason Cole was half-hard by the third set. Rowan felt it. H
Men After Dark The Injured Athlete & His Physical Therapist part 2
Chapter 2 Cole iced the knee for twenty minutes like he’d been told, then spent the rest of the night half-hard and restless. Sleep came in pieces. Every time he shifted, the brace reminded him why he was stuck in this apartment with a man who had jerked him off mid-stretch and then calmly packed his bag like it was still a normal session. Rowan showed up at nine the next morning with the same quiet face and a new set of resistance bands. He didn’t mention the day before. He just set his bag down, washed his hands in the kitchen sink, and nodded at the floor. “Brace off for this part. I’ll support the joint.” Cole stripped the brace and the shorts without ceremony. He was already thick against his thigh when he lay back. Rowan noticed. Of course he noticed. He didn’t comment. He hooked an elastic band around Cole’s foot and started the straight-leg raises, one hand under the thigh for stability, the other keeping the band tension exact. The third raise put Rowan’s palm high enoug
Men After Dark Story 9: The Injured Athlete & His Physical Therapist
Chapter 1 Cole Maddox hated the quiet. His apartment had always been loud—teammates crashing on the couch, music through the walls, the constant low noise of a career that never really turned off. Now it was just the sound of the ice machine in the freezer and the occasional car on the street six floors down. Six weeks since the tackle. Four since the surgery. The ACL was a clean tear, the surgeon had said. Best-case scenario if he did the work. The work was the problem. Rowan Kell stood in the middle of the living room like he belonged there, which he didn’t. Early thirties, quiet in the way people get when they’ve spent years listening more than talking. Dark hair, steady hands, the kind of calm that made Cole want to pick a fight just to see if it would crack. The agency had sent him after the third PT in the clinic made Cole snap a resistance band and walk out. “We’ll start with range of motion,” Rowan said. No small talk. No pity. He set a folded towel on the floor and nodde
Men After Dark The bodyguard and the pop star part 5
Chapter 5 The last night of the tour arrived faster than either of us wanted. We were back in the same city where it started, in a different suite on a higher floor. The final show had ended an hour ago. The label team was already packing equipment and scheduling the flight that would take Lennox to London for the interview he’d spent weeks avoiding. My contract officially ended at midnight. After that I was no longer his bodyguard. Just a man who had spent six weeks learning the exact sounds he made when he came apart. Lennox locked the door, dropped his jacket on the floor, and looked at me like he already knew this was the last private room we were guaranteed. “I’m not getting on that plane tomorrow and pretending the last six weeks didn’t happen,” he said. “I know.” He crossed the space between us, fisted a hand in my shirt, and pulled me into a kiss that carried every night we’d stolen. I walked him backward until his legs hit the bed and we went down together. Clothes came
Men After Dark The bodyguard and the pop star part 4
Chapter 4 By the fourth week the secrecy had its own rhythm. I still walked three paces behind him through every terminal and hotel lobby. I still spoke only when the job required it. In elevators filled with assistants and label reps I kept my face blank and my hands off him. The second we were alone the distance disappeared like it had never existed. Tonight we were in a converted farmhouse an hour outside Lyon. No adjoining rooms, no overnight staff, just high stone walls and a bed large enough for the kind of noise we no longer bothered to keep quiet. Lennox had been quiet all evening—post-show adrenaline crashed hard, the usual label messages piling up unanswered on his phone. The moment the last car left the driveway he locked the door, turned to me, and said, “I need you to take me apart.” I did. We didn’t make it to the bed on the first try. I had him bent over the heavy wooden table in the main room, jeans shoved down to his thighs, my cock buried in him before either o
Men After Dark The bodyguard and the pop-star part 3
Chapter 3 Three cities later the pattern was set. I stayed three steps behind him in public, expression blank, earpiece in, scanning every crowd and exit the way I was paid to. In elevators and back seats of black cars I kept my hands to myself and my eyes forward. The second a suite door locked behind us, the professional distance collapsed. Tonight it was a private villa outside Milan instead of a hotel. High walls, no adjoining rooms, staff dismissed for the evening. Lennox had been on edge all day—press still circling the outing, label calls he refused to take, a performance that had gone technically perfect and emotionally hollow. The moment we were alone he shoved me against the entryway wall and kissed me like he’d been holding it in for twelve hours. I let him. His jacket hit the floor. Mine followed. We left a trail of clothes down the short hallway to the main bedroom. By the time the backs of my knees hit the mattress I was fully hard and already done pretending I
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