Chapter Four: Confessions in the Locker Room
802 Words
“We fought on the field, but in the showers, he pinned me up and kissed like we were dying for it.”
We weren’t friends.
We were rivals.
Cole Maddox was the golden boy of our college rugby team captain, MVP, every coach’s wet dream. He played dirty, hit hard, and never let anyone forget he was number one.
Especially not me.
I was the quiet one. The fast one. The one who dodged more than I tackled. And Cole? He hated that I didn’t play by his rules.
He’d slam into me during scrimmages just a little too hard. Trash talk me in the locker room. Always posturing, always testing.
And still…
I watched him.
When he peeled off his jersey after a game, soaked in sweat and raw adrenaline.
When his chest heaved and water streamed down his abs in the communal showers.
When his towel hung low on his hips, teasing more than it hid.
I hated him.
I wanted him.
It all came to a head the night we beat our rivals in the regional final. We were high on adrenaline, sweat still dripping, testosterone thick in the air.
The locker room was chaos shouting, laughing, backslaps and towel whips.
And then Cole cornered me.
He shoved me back against the metal lockers, not hard, but with enough force to make me flinch.
“You play like a f*****g ghost,” he growled. “Slipping through everybody.”
“And you play like a f*****g caveman,” I shot back, chest heaving.
He stepped closer.
Chest to chest.
“I see the way you look at me,” he said.
My blood ran cold. “What?”
“In the showers. In the locker room. You think I don’t notice?”
I swallowed. My throat was dry. “You’re imagining things.”
He smirked.
“No. I’m not.”
Before I could respond, he kissed me.
Hard. Bruising. Unapologetic.
His hand gripped my jaw, and his tongue shoved past my lips like he was claiming me. And f**k I let him.
I kissed back, furious and desperate, fisting his sweaty jersey, pulling him closer. Our mouths clashed like we fought on the field messy, intense, full of hunger.
We stumbled backward into the shower stalls, tearing off clothes, breathing like animals.
Water thundered down, washing away sweat and guilt.
Cole shoved me against the tile wall, his mouth trailing hot kisses down my neck. His hands were rough, urgent gripping my hips, sliding between my thighs.
“You’ve thought about this,” he muttered against my skin. “I know you have.”
I gasped as his fingers found my c**k already hard, already leaking.
“So have I.”
He dropped to his knees in the shower, steam curling around us like smoke.
His hands wrapped around my thighs as he looked up at me wet hair plastered to his forehead, lips slightly parted.
Then he took me into his mouth.
Warm. Wet. Perfect.
I groaned, gripping his hair, thrusting without thinking. He sucked greedily, tongue flicking, lips tight around my shaft as water poured down over his back.
“f**k, Cole” I gasped.
He hummed around me, the vibration making me twitch.
I warned him.
He didn’t stop.
I came with a cry, spilling into his throat as he swallowed every drop.
But he wasn’t done.
He stood, kissing me again, and I could taste myself on his tongue. It only made me harder.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
I obeyed.
He pressed against me, one arm wrapping around my chest, the other guiding his c**k between my cheeks.
He rubbed it there, slow, teasing.
“You want this?” he asked, breath hot in my ear.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Please.”
He was rough.
He spit into his hand, lubed himself quickly, then pushed in slow at first, letting me adjust, until I was gasping his name.
Then he started thrusting.
Hard. Deep. Fast.
The slap of skin echoed in the shower stall. His hand gripped my throat lightly, just enough pressure to make me dizzy. His other hand stroked me in time with his thrusts.
“f*****g tight,” he growled. “God, you feel good.”
I moaned like a w***e, pushed back onto him, chasing the rhythm, chasing the high.
He pounded into me, groaning, panting, hips slamming against my ass as steam rose around us like fog.
We came together.
He spilled inside me with a grunt, biting down on my shoulder. I shot all over the wet tile, my knees nearly buckling.
We stayed like that for a moment, tangled, breathless, soaked.
Then he pulled out, kissed the back of my neck, and whispered, “Next time, we’re doing this in your bed.”
- Writer
