Page 15 of Personal Foul (The San Diego Storm #3)

Colin

C arson was unusually quiet on the way to the airport. After last night, I thought we’d broken through the ice. I couldn’t stand the quiet, so I started talking about football.

“I’m curious about something.”

He glanced over at me as we sat in traffic.

“Why are we going someplace hours away to train when we have a state-of-the-art facility here? It seems odd unless we’re going somewhere that has better equipment.”

“It’s about team building. If we’re here, we’re more likely to be distracted by everyday life. If we go away, it makes it easier to concentrate.”

“You boys have an issue concentrating?”

“No,” he huffed. “It’s also so we can gel as a team and get to know each other on a personal level.”

I was intrigued. “Makes sense, I suppose.”

I’d done a bit of personal research of my own into the players on the team, only to discover one of them was openly bisexual and involved with the governor of California.

While I would never interfere in another man’s committed relationship, I would happily participate in an open arrangement if invited.

But Carson didn’t know that, so I decided to annoy him a bit.

As he drove through stop-and-go traffic, I flipped through my photos and stopped on one I’d saved, just for this purpose.

I made grunting and groaning noises, then rubbed my cock over my shorts for dramatic effect, before turning to Carson.

“I have a question.”

He darted his eyes to me, then returned them to the road. “No, you can’t jerk off in my car. You’ll get us arrested.”

I raised a brow when he glanced over again, this time ogling my dick.

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, but is that something you’d like to watch?”

His face crumpled like a piece of paper. “Fuck no.”

I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. I was just asking since you brought it up.”

“ I didn’t bring it up. You brought it up.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head, “it was definitely you who said I couldn’t jerk off in your car. I just said I had a question.”

“Then what’s your fucking question?” he snapped.

Shifting in the leather seat, I wanted to see his face for this.

“How did you know it was about fucking?”

He sighed heavily. “Just ask the question.”

This was going well.

“Okay, Mr. Touchy. I would have thought, after all those orgasms, you would not be so tense. But whatever.”

Carson gritted his teeth, making his jaw flex. He looked just like he did when he was trying not to come.

“I’ve been reading about our teammates, and wondered how well you know Evan Ellis?”

Carson side-eyed me warily. “He’s one of my best friends. Why?”

“Since he’s on the offense and about our size, do you think he’d like to practice one-on-one with me?”

He relaxed and released a weighted breath. “Evan’s a good guy. He’ll do anything to help make sure we’re ready to play.”

“Awesome,” I said. “Do you think he’d let me chase him and tackle him to the ground? Maybe naked? Or in a Speedo? We do that.”

I watched as he sucked in a shocked breath.

“No!” he screeched. “What is wrong with you?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “A lot of things, but that’s a story for another drive. What about a hookup? A quick suck and fuck, then move on.”

I studied the side of his face, trying to keep myself from laughing at him. This game was fun.

“Oh my god, stop! If you’ve researched anything, you know Evan is in a relationship, and they are solid. And he’s not like that. He’d never cheat on Hudson. Even with you.”

I bit my lip, taking that as a compliment.

“Fine. What about the quarterback?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

I laughed. “I’m not doing anything but trying to get to know my teammates. That’s all.”

He glanced over at me, then back to the road. “No, you’re not. You’re trying to pay me back for what I said. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

Too fucking bad.

“Okay. Maybe the boyfriend would like to join us. He could be the meat in a two-athlete sandwich. He looks like the daddy type to direct a really hot scene.”

Carson’s face was charting new shades of red again, and I was beginning to worry he might have a blood pressure problem.

“No. Just fucking no.”

I shrugged, then sat back to play on my phone.

I waited another thirty minutes before I asked another question.

“Any other teammates who might be interested in hooking up? It’s so much easier when you can fuck someone in the shower, then be done. You know what I like, any suggestions?”

He didn’t reply, but continued to strangle the steering wheel, much like he’d done to my cock.

“Guess that’s a no. I suppose I can just use Grindr or Sniffies . Shall we do the sock on the doorknob thing to let you know when I have someone in the room?”

“No,” he gritted out. “We’re not doing that shit.”

“Why? It’s not like I can get my own room. How am I supposed to hook up if you’re in there?”

I huffed for effect. “I guess you can watch. I mean, I don’t care. It’s not like you haven’t seen my cock and balls. You had them in your mouth, for god’s sake.”

Carson switched lanes, which ended our forward progress. At this rate, we’d never get there.

“Colin, we can’t go to camp acting like this. I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

I held up my hand and laughed. “You didn’t hurt me, Carson. You gave me a good time, just like I asked. We’re friends, and this is who I am. I’m uninhibited and like to hook up. But once it’s over, it’s over. There’s no going back. So don’t worry, mate. I’ll be your wingman.”

I was so full of kangaroo doo, but I had a plan.

“Wingman? For what?”

I grinned. “Your next hookup. I’ll go to the bar with you and find your next lay. Easy.”

His handsome face contorted again. “We’re not here to get laid. We’re here to work.”

“Of course we are, but you said it was also about team building, and the way I see it, you and me are a team. And I’m gonna teach you how to attract a man.”

Carson stared at me, his mouth hanging open, until the car behind us blew the horn. I grinned.

“Let’s go, mate,” I said, slapping him on the back. “We’ve got some team building to do.”

The car behind us honked again, startling him out of his stooper.

I grinned and sat back to enjoy the ride, knowing I had no intention of doing any of that. What he did when I was gone was one thing, but while I was here, I intended to hold his attention to the last day.

Training camp for American football was fairly similar to what I was used to at home.

The first week, we started the day with conditioning, then headed into our team meeting with Coach Henderson, where he broke down our goals and how he saw us making it back to the Super Bowl.

I knew the final game of the season was the pinnacle of the sport, where the best teams met for a final clash.

And since I was competitive as hell, succeeding at a new sport at the highest level was the pinnacle of success.

Team practice had been light, focusing on learning the playbook and conditioning to avoid injury. That was very similar to what we did, so assimilating was pretty easy.

The most unusual part was getting used to the helmet. When I put it on for the first time, I felt as if I had a weirdly segmented mushroom on my head. It was heavy and weighed down on my neck, so I took it off every chance I got. Owen would laugh his ass off if he could have seen me.

At the end of the week, we had a Media Day to showcase the team to the press and any fans who came out to see the Storm play. Surprisingly, I was interviewed several times by reporters who wanted to know what it was like to change sports and how I was transitioning to football.

Lennox had friends present to watch, while Evan did not. I felt a kinship with him being all alone in the world. But where he had his partner back in California, I was alone in the world, with only my moody roommate to speak of.

After a day off spent hanging out by the pool, Carson and I ran our own practices, where he continued to harp on the rules to avoid penalties.

As difficult as it was to avoid wanting him, we were both professional athletes, so we focused our energy on the sport.

I tried to assure him I understood the game, but when his overbearing need to control everything took over, I had to shut him up.

When I’d reached my limit with his overachieving ass, I pushed back during a private practice with our offensive counterparts.

Earlier in the week, I’d met Lennox Sanders and Evan Ellis in the elevator, so when Carson asked them to run some plays with us, I was more than delighted to cover the tight end.

“Hello, mate,” I said to Evan. “Thanks for this.”

He grinned, then propped his hands on his hips. “Not a problem. I’m happy to help.”

Evan glanced over at Carson as he spoke to Lennox. “How’s it going with St. James?”

Glancing over at my sexy roommate, I rolled my eyes. “He’s driving me crazy. But I can handle it.”

“Yeah? How so?”

Turning my back to Carson, I smiled up at Evan. “I just wanna ruffle his neatly preened feathers, ya know? Get him to loosen up.”

Evan grinned conspiratorially. “How can I help? Screwing with him is one of my favorite things to do.”

My eyes widened, making Evan laugh. “Not like that,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I have a boyfriend, and Carson and I have always joked around. But at the end of the day, we’re good friends. He’s a nice guy, but I won’t pass up an opportunity to work him up.”

I glanced over my shoulder to find Carson frowning at us. Turning back to Evan, I patted his hand on my shoulder. “I think I’m gonna screw up just to make him blow his stack.”

Evan grinned. “I’m in. If you really want to get under his skin, mess up an easy one. Tackle me before I catch the ball.”

I held up my hand for a high five before grabbing a ball off the ground. I wrapped my fingers around the laces and launched it at Carson. He reached up when he saw it coming and batted it down, making us all laugh.

“Let’s go, times a wasting,” I called to them.

Lennox jogged over to pick up the ball as Evan walked toward him.