Page 100 of The Locker Room

and he"d been a fool to leave Chris in bed, alone, the morning before the

third home game of the month.

He was squeezing his eyes shut tight and pounding his fist against

the shower walls with rhythmic thuds, when there was a burst of cool air

and a chilly hand caressing his backside through the spray.

Xan tried to clear the water out of his eyes and was in the middle of

saying, “Chris?” when another hand joined the first, this one parting

Xander"s ass cheeks, and a smooth, cool, metallic object, heavily coated

with what Xan assumed was the waterproof lube, teased his opening.

Xander spread his legs a little, and bent his knees, making it easier for

Chris to push the heavy, stainless steel plug against his tight ring of

muscle. Xander gasped, and relaxed, and let Chris push Xander"s

favorite toy slowly and relentlessly inside his asshole as his body

clenched and recoiled from the cold metal.

With a little pop, the wide part was in, and Xander gasped hungrily,

still leaning against the wall, his hair dripping into his eyes.

“Xander?” Chris asked, his voice playful, and Xander managed a

shaky, “Glarrghhha?”

“Race you!”

“Awww… fuck you, Christian!” Xander gasped, shuddering, a

train wreck of sudden want slamming up against his chest. “You"re dead.

I"ll make you come so hard your hair"ll get shorter!”

He made it out of the shower with trembling legs and managed a

frantic towel down of his hair and his chest and the rest of the body, even

as he padded, wet-footed, across the cream-colored carpet. When he got

to the bed, he saw that Chris had been busy when he"d been showering—

hell, probably even when he"d been running, and the “sleeping in” was

just a ruse.

Amy Lane