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Jason’s head was angled so close, crowding into my space, I thought he might kiss me.

If he kissed me, surely I would push him away.

I hated him, didn’t I? He was stubborn, rich, snobby, and overconfident.

Even now, standing under the shower spray, he was so certain he had me wrapped around his finger—and I hated him all the more because he was right.

Our eyes held as we stroked each other, I couldn’t help but wonder what his lips would taste like, if they would be as soft as his hands.

He was talented at so much already, would he be an amazing kisser too?

From the way women seemed to fawn over him game after game, undeterred by his ‘play-hard-to-get’ attitude, I could only assume so.

But I refused to make the first move. No way.

If I kissed him, and he ended up shoving me away because he didn’t want to cross that line, my pride wouldn’t be able to take the blow.

If we were going to kiss, then he needed to be the one to initiate like he had initiated everything else up to this point.

But even that wasn’t the full truth. I wanted Jason to take charge, to make me forget everything but this unexpected, intimate moment. I already managed so much out in the real world. I had worked for everything since high school. Why couldn’t I be taken care of for once?

Seconds ticked by. His eyes kept boring into mine, his thumb kept swiping over the head of my shaft, and I grew more and more flustered under the weight of his gaze.

“Stop doing that,” I muttered.

“Doing what?”

He knew damn well.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

The tip of his tongue darted past his lips, wetting them even though they were already slick from the shower.

“Because I know how much it gets under your skin.”

“It… It doesn’t.”

And yet it did. God, did it get under my skin.

Another devilish smile spread across Jason’s face. “Admit it,” he whispered. “You want me to kiss you.”

I shuddered. Jason made it sound so simple, yet nothing ever could be around him. He was taunting me like he did when we were on the court.

With his hand still in my hair, Jason angled my head so our foreheads pressed together. The sound of our hands stroking each other was slick and sloppy, crystalizing how pointless it was to deny how far gone I was in this situation.

“Tell me you want it,” he said, his every word dripping with honey, “and I’ll do it.”

Was sparing my pride worth passing on the opportunity? No, it wasn’t. I’d never even been kissed before. I’d already surrendered countless little moans and whimpers to Jason, what was one more ask? Even if he was right, I didn’t have to be happy about it.

“Damn you, Jason,” I groaned, but I was too weak, “kiss me already.”

And just as he promised, Jason surged forward to kiss me, and my eyes fell closed with relief at last. His lips were smooth as velvet, flawless.

Mid-kiss, his free hand fell to the small of my back, its presence as hot as a brand.

My heart stuttered, and I arched into him.

Jason understood my cue, and his hand slid lower, following the curve of my ass to splay wide over my cheek.

I didn’t have as great of a lower half as Jason, but I still did the occasional round of squats at the gym, so there was plenty to grab hold of.

He gave me a gentle squeeze, and I whined into his mouth and held his cock a little tighter in my palm.

Jason groaned, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was more of an ass guy from the way his fingers held me so possessively.

I almost regretted the fact that he’d only ever seen me in basketball shorts before tonight.

When his fingers found my hole, I gasped, startled by how much I unraveled with a single point of contact.

I wasn’t so unused to the sensation of feeling fingers at my entrance—I’d played with myself there a few times while jacking off alone—but it was completely different to have another person do it.

I leaned into him, craving more, seeking out his touch.

He swiped his tongue along my lips, parting them to slip inside.

Jason sucked on my tongue while pushing his forefinger past the rim of my entrance, making me whine into our kiss from the stretch.

Driven by desperation, I stroked him faster between us, smearing the steady stream of precum leaking from the head of his cock with my thumb.

When a second thick finger joined the first and started moving in and out of me, I was unable to stop myself from trembling against him.

I tried to tear away from our kisses, but his lips chased after mine, hungry, needing to devour every little deafening sound I made.

I was forced to clutch onto him for some semblance of stability as his fingers picked up the pace, fucking me faster, pushing my desire to dizzying new heights.

Jason was in total control of my pleasure.

Not even an hour ago, I had been the king of the court, the one dominating him and his team.

Now, inside the showers, I was surrendering in every way to Jason, finding it so easy to do when it was just the two of us alone.

No spotlights, no roar of the crowd, no teammates watching and waiting for the perfect pass.

I couldn’t help but wonder, had this desire for Jason always been inside of me?

Had I just been waiting for a chance to have him all for myself?

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Let me see you.”

Functioning on pure adrenaline, I obeyed him without hesitation, disentangling from him.

My heart thundered so hard in my chest I feared it would burst. This was escalating so fast, but I didn’t want it to stop.

Nothing else had come close to making me feel more alive than this moment. Not even winning the championship game.

“Good boy,” he praised as he settled in behind me.

Jason bent me forward, forcing me to brace myself against the tile wall of the showers.

He grabbed two fistfuls of my ass and spread my cheeks so his dick could rest between them.

It was like having a hot, throbbing spear pressed against my entrance where no one else had ever touched me before.

My lips parted in shock, and a pitiful moan spilled out when he moved ever so slightly in the slowest grind along my cleft.

“That’s right. I just knew you’d be a natural bottom deep down.

” He reached around with his free hands to play with my nipples, pinching them.

“Had you pegged from the start. Always backing this tight ass up into me while you’re dribbling.

” He chuckled, the vibration sending shivers down my spine.

“You love the way my cock feels sliding against your hole, don’t you? ”

With his weight behind me, arms holding me in place, I wasn’t in a position to deny what he’d accused me of doing all along. I had given in to Jason with little resistance. My biggest rival was manhandling me, and I was letting him.

Was all this happening because I’d never been laid before? Was I just sexually-frustrated to the point I would’ve given in to anyone? Work had kept me busy, and sure, Jason was right, I didn’t have time to date...

No, this was uncharted territory. I’d never explored my sexuality—I’d never had the chance during high school or college.

Everyone just assumed I was too busy, but I had never met someone worth making time for.

Westvale boys had to hustle to get some kind of scholarship or a decent job.

I’d burned the candle at both ends to make my parents proud.

My relationship with Jason felt different.

I never kept track of other players in this league the way I kept tabs on Jason during the off season, telling myself I was just scouting out information my team could use when basketball came back the following year.

We considered each other enemies on the court, constantly in each others’ orbits.

Our history was fraught with unresolved tension.

I just hadn’t realized there’d been a sexual nature underneath it all.

No, even that was a lie. I’d known all along.

The warning signs had followed me from the moment we first met.

I had known from the very beginning that Jason was my type, and as much as I tried to play up the rival angle, as much as I insisted upon hating him, it was an entirely different story in the privacy of my own home.

My private porn collection was filled with videos of guys who looked damningly similar to Jason.

I’d called it moments of weakness, horny-fueled lapses in judgment on lonely nights.

Dreaming of Jason was a wicked whim, something I kept between myself and my laptop.

I had no idea what Jason intended to do to me, but I was putty in his hands. I was always vocal about my opinions, always quick to have a smartass comeback, but with him pressed into me, back to chest, ass to dick, I was at a loss for words. I’d do whatever he wanted as long as he kept touching me.

But what did “whatever he wanted” actually entail? I wasn’t clueless… but being with someone, being completely at their mercy, was new. I didn’t know if I was ready to go all the way inside a high school locker room’s shower, but the chance to fulfill one of my deepest desires wasn’t lost on me.

What was Jason getting out of all this, anyways? Had my taunting offered a chance for him to smooth the edge off his post-game adrenaline? Was I just another one of his many conquests? Fuck, was I just a warm body to him?