LOGINKAGE. I make it home and head straight to the bathroom without stopping to think about whether this is a good idea.The shower is on as hot as I can stand it within thirty seconds. My clothes are on the floor. I’m under the spray reaching for my cock before I’ve fully processed the decision.Eight months of being careful, following every rule the doctors gave me about recovery. No strenuous activity, no movements that could stress the surgical repair, no risks.Right now none of that matters.My hand wraps around myself and the relief is so intense I have to brace my other hand against the tile. Eight months is a long time to go without this and my body responds immediately to the contact.I start stroking slowly because I need to make this last, need to savor it after months of denial. The water runs over me and I close my eyes and think about Theve’s hands on my thigh, about the way he looked at my hard cock without saying a word, about the tension in his jaw and the roughness in
KAGEI show up at six AM on Thursday and spend the entire drive trying to convince myself that yesterday didn’t mean anything.Bodies react to touch sometimes. It’s biology. It doesn’t mean I’m attracted to my physical therapist. It doesn’t mean I’ve been replaying the session in my head for twenty-four hours.Except I have been replaying it. And I know exactly what that means.Theve is already in the treatment room when I arrive, setting up equipment with the same methodical precision he brings to everything that I’ve noticed. “Morning,” he says without looking up.“Morning.”“How’d you feel after yesterday?”“Good. No soreness.”“Excellent. Your tissue is responding well.” He finishes arranging something and turns around. “Table. Face up.”I get on the table and the second his hands touch my hip I know I’m fucked.Not because of pain. Because every nerve ending in my body lights up at the contact.“We’re focusing on upper adductor today,” he says. “That’s where your remaining r
KAGE.Three weeks later and I’m starting to have a problem.The hip is better. Significantly better. Theve’s approach is working in ways David’s never did. My range of motion is up to ninety-five percent and the pain has decreased to almost nothing.That’s not the problem.The problem is that I’ve started looking forward to the sessions for reasons that have nothing to do with physical therapy.It’s six AM on a Thursday and I’m lying face-up on the treatment table while Theve works my hip. His hands are on my inner thigh, fingers pressing deep into the adductor, and I’m trying very hard not to think about how close those hands are to my dick.“You’re tense again,” he says without looking up.“Am I?”“Your breathing changed. What’s going on?”Nothing. Everything. The fact that I’ve spent three weeks having your hands on me every morning and I can’t stop thinking about it. The fact that I’m noticing things about you I have no business noticing. The fact that I’m pretty sure I’m attrac
KAGEThe thing about tearing your adductor eight months ago is that everyone thinks you should be fine by now.Fans think eight months is plenty of time. Sports analysts think you’re milking it. Your new team thinks they paid two hundred million dollars for a running back who can actually run.My hip thinks they’re all full of shit.It feels like someone jammed broken glass into the muscle every time I cut left or pivot hard. Which is a problem when your entire value as a professional athlete depends on being able to cut left and pivot hard without screaming.David in Dallas understood this. David had hands like a construction worker and the personality of a brick wall. No small talk about weather. No asking how my weekend was. Just strong hands working scar tissue for an hour while I focused on not passing out from the pain.Then Chicago happened and David stayed in Texas and now I’m supposed to start over with someone new who probably wants to be my friend.I’m sitting in this pr
NASH.Cole texts me at eleven on a Thursday night.Cole: You up?Me: Yeah. Why?Cole: Can I come over?Me: To my place?Cole: Yeah. Unless that’s weird.It is weird. We’ve never done anything just the two of us outside the group. It’s always been all four of us together at the penthouse or Xavier’s place. Never alone. Never at my actual apartment where my parents could theoretically walk in even though they’re usually working late.Me: Parents are at some charity thing until midnight. Come over.Cole: Be there in 20.I spend those twenty minutes trying not to overthink what this means. Maybe he just wants to talk. Maybe something happened and he needs someone to vent to. Maybe this has nothing to do with the sex at all.Then he shows up at my door and I know immediately that it has everything to do with the sex.He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie and his hair is messy like he’s been running his hands through it. When I let him in he doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with an expressi
ARRETT. We make it to Xavier’s bedroom and the second the door closes Cole is on me.He kisses me hard, aggressive, still riding the high from earlier. I kiss him back just as roughly and we’re stumbling toward the bed.Xavier and Nash are already pulling off their shirts. When Xavier’s hands go to Nash’s belt Nash doesn’t wait, just shoves his jeans down and pulls Xavier toward the bed with us.All four of us end up tangled together, hands everywhere, mouths finding skin, everything heated and desperate.Someone’s hand wraps around my cock through my jeans and I groan. I don’t even know whose hand it is and I don’t care.“Get these off,” Xavier says, pulling at my jeans.I work my belt while kissing Cole and someone else is pulling off my shoes so they can get my jeans all the way off. Within seconds I’m naked and so is everyone else.The energy is frantic. We’re all still buzzing from what we did tonight and it’s translating into something raw and intense.Nash is on his back and X
TELLEN."Fuck, Tellen, right there, don't stop, I'm going to come."Kane's face is pressed into the pillow, ass in the air, and I'm pounding into him with everything I have. We've been at this for twenty minutes already and he's been close for the last five, begging me to let him finish."Not yet,"
WINREY.I climb onto the bed and the pillows are so soft I sink into them. Luxuria follows, moving with that liquid grace, and settles beside me on her knees."We're going to take this slow," she says, one hand trailing up my thigh. "Women fuck differently than men. We savor. We explore. We make th
DANTE.Her hand around me is going to end this before it starts."Valentina," I manage through clenched teeth."Val." She strokes slowly, deliberately. "Only my boss calls me Valentina. You're going to call me Val while I make you fall apart.""Val, I'm going to—""No you're not." Her hand stops mo
SLEYAI broke Tatrum Valenti’s nose three years ago at the Vienna Championships and I’d do it again right now if he were standing in front of me.We were backstage after the final results came in. I’d lost gold to him by two points. He was standing there in his tailsuit looking like someone had car







