Adam Davis isn’t gay! He can’t be -- he’s a super star NFL quarterback and gay men don’t survive in the NFL. But along comes Brendan Fletcher, an outstanding, Super Bowl-winning linebacker who awakens something in Adam, something Adam hadn’t known was there. And now it’s wakened, the quarterback will never be the same. Despite the threat to their careers and their personal safety, Adam and Brendan find themselves irresistibly drawn to each other, starting something that grows from gratification of mutual needs to something more. Can these men of strength and power on the gridiron overcome the homophobia of their profession? Can they make what they have found stand for something more important than the fame and fortune of playing NFL football or even becoming Super Bowl champions?
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EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.
Adam made his way to the john, went in and took a piss. Standing in front of the mirror, he splashed a little cool water on his face. The door opened behind him and Brendan walked in, locked the door and proceeded to the toilet where he unzipped his pants, took out his dick and began to urinate.
“Thanks for the privacy,” Adam said.
“Hey, you're the one who didn't lock the door,” Brendan chuckled.
Adam glanced down at Brendan's cock as it emitted its golden stream. He felt something akin to a swoop in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the man's impressive equipment. He raised his eyes and saw Brendan had caught him looking. He turned back to the mirror, blushed, and pretended to check his face by rubbing his chin.
Brendan walked up behind him. Adam turned to face him. Brendan was taller than Adam's six foot three by an inch or two and probably outweighed him by twenty pounds. Broad shouldered and deep-chested, Brendan was a beautiful specimen of manhood. Right now his handsome face, with its deep brown eyes and ready smile was inches from Adam's. Adam could smell the alcohol on his breath. He felt the swoop again.
Hang on, why am I thinking this? I’m straight!
“No harm in checking out what the competition’s got,” Brendan said in a low husky voice as he reached out and fondled Adam's hardening cock through his khakis. Putting his other hand behind Adam's head, Brendan pulled the quarterback toward him. Before Adam fully realized what was happening, Brendan was kissing him, Adam was opening his mouth, and allowing Brendan's tongue to caress his. At the same time as the men embraced, Brendan's hands slid down and pressed the flesh of Adam's firm, muscular ass.
“Whoa!” Adam cried out, breaking the connection, pushing Brendan back. “What the fuck are you doin'?”
“What I think you want me to do.” Brendan smiled, putting his hand back on Adam's shoulder.
“What the fuck gives you that idea?” Adam said, pushing the hand off of him.
Brendan merely smiled, turned to the mirror and brushed his thick, dark brown hair into place with his hand. “You'll figure that out one of these days.”
Adam was about to ask him what the hell he meant by that when there was a knock on the door.
“Hey, you gonna be in there all night? I gotta go,” a deep voice said that Adam recognized as coming from Ashanti Peters, one of the offensive tackles.
Adam felt a wave of panic sweep over him. This guy was one of the biggest homophobes on the team: always preaching about how faggots would burn in hell, and making disparaging remarks whenever he saw anyone he thought might be a homosexual.
“Keep your pants zipped!” Brendan called out. “It's gonna take as long as it's gonna take, man. Go use the can in the master bedroom.”
“Randy's in there with a couple a groupies, dude!”
“Then politely say 'excuse me' as you walk by,” Brendan told him.
“Fuck!” the lineman said. Adam could hear him retreating down the hall, cursing loudly.
Adam let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He was trembling all over, half from the intense sexual arousal that still permeated his body and half from the fear of near exposure.
Brendan, still smiling, kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked to the door.
“Think about it, babe,” he said and left the room.
Adam raised his hand to the place where Brendan's kiss still lingered.
Think about it? What does that mean?
Adam took a steadying breath. After waiting long enough for his hard cock to relax and to make sure no one would see him come out so soon after Brendan, he left the bathroom.
* * * *
Adam lay on his back on the king-sized bed with its satin sheets in the master bedroom of his suite. As an all star QB he was entitled to private quarters. He had left the party shortly after the incident in the john with Brendan. He told everyone to have a good time and thanked them again for their great play. He was in no mood to party anymore after what had happened, and didn’t want to run into Brendan again.
Returning to his own room he had showered and gone to bed, all the while trying not to think about what had transpired in the penthouse bathroom. Was the thing he was trying to avoid thinking about the very thing Brendan had wanted him to think about? And why had he called him ‘babe’? Wasn’t that some sort of term of endearment among gay men?
“Fuck!” he said aloud as he tossed and turned.
He had thought about jacking off. That usually relieved the tension after a game if he didn’t have Brenda with him to get him off. But, as soon as he had started, the only images that came to mind were those of Brendan and what they had done.
Adam couldn’t let himself think of stuff like that. Gay guys didn’t survive -- not in the NFL.
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