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Jay's Loelife - 8. Five week challenge



“Dude, get off your phone,” Taylor chastises from the other side of the living room. We’ve long since ditched the parents and ended up back at my cabin. My brothers both have rooms back home but they almost always stay with me when I’m in town, and sometimes even when I’m not. I should really change the lock code.

ESPN is playing in the background. Derek is on the sofa next to me, his eyes look like they might shut any moment. It’s past midnight but my body is still on west coast time.

I ignore my youngest brother and continue to scrutinize the pictures I want to send Loren. Since I want him to feel comfortable with my family, I look for anything that may trigger him. I don’t fully know what triggers I’m looking for, so I play it safe. No Christmas ornaments, no tree, no group photos.

“Who do you keep texting anyway?” Derek asks, a little more awake than he was a moment ago, his curiosity regarding my potential love life working like a double shot of espresso. He leans in and tries to sneak a peek at my phone. I laugh at his lame attempt but pocket my phone anyways. My brothers are known to gang up on me with little to no provocation.

Older, cooler brother problems. They’re so obsessed with me.

Taylor gets up from the giant Lovesac and drops down next to me on the sofa. “Are you ever going to tell us who he is?”

I bite the inside of my lip to stop from smiling. If they only knew. It turns out they both follow Loren on social media and have since his gaming days. I was too busy to pay attention to much of anything that wasn’t sports related. Not even video games. I have a feeling my brothers will flip when they find out, let alone when they meet him.

“Soon enough.”

“You’ve never hid anyone from us before,” Taylor whines like the little brother he is. Doesn’t matter that he’s only a few inches shorter and bulking up a little more each year, he will always be the baby of the family.

“I bet it’s a teammate,” Derek says rather smugly, like there’s actually a chance two NFL players from the same team are in an epic love affair.

“And this is why I’m not telling you.”


The mess of Christmas presents aren’t even cleaned up before I’m catching my flight back to Seattle. I duck under the plane door and descend the stairs to the tarmac. “Hey. I just landed.”

“I’m thirty minutes from your house,” Loren says. “See you soon.” His van is cool as hell but it’s not quiet. The road noise and the rain are so loud they almost drown out his voice. It’s pouring buckets outside. I hike my bag up and run to the waiting car. Seattle doesn’t get white Christmases; it gets wet Christmases.

I look at the time when I get home; just enough to shower and change. I get out and rush down stairs, dripping hair and all. Loren is waiting in a pair of expensive gray joggers and a matching zip hoodie, both are damp from the rain. The way it hugs his body is worth every penny he didn’t pay because almost everything he has is gifted with the hope he loves them so much he’ll share with his followers. I know this because I went with him to his post office once and ended up picking up twice as many packages as we dropped off.

I quickly pull him in for a long, hard kiss.

“It’s only been three days,” he says, his eyes alight with humor.

“A long three days,” I tell him as I pull him to the living room. I push him onto the couch and lay next to him. Ever since his little snuggle/stratego faux-pas, I’ve made it a point to drive him crazy by playing that game as often as I can, but tonight I’m tired and I just want to lie with him and watch a movie.

“Can we please just lay on the couch and do nothing?” I ask, showing him there’s no harm in being direct and asking for what you want.

He looks like he wants to quip back, maybe make a joke about Stratego instead. There’s always a chance I will say yes and that’s not what he wants, so he snuggles against me instead, melting into me. We spend the rest of the evening just like that.

He smells good, like day old expensive cologne and Loren.

His hand drifts south, grazing my junk a half dozen times. When I rub against him, he pushes me away. “Get your mind out of the gutter. it was an accident.”

Accident or not, his subtle touching has me hard and horny. I can’t stop myself from kissing him. All the recent time apart has me feeling like a broken man. For the first time, our roles are reversed. I want him in a way that feels uncontrollable. When I try to get in his pants, he shakes his finger at me, teasing me. “I don’t want to compromise your virtue.”

I take a breath. This is a game I can win. I push my pants down a few inches. “I’d hate to put you in an uncomfortable position.” Once I have my dick out, I start stroking it. “Gimme a minute and I’ll take care of this real quick. ”

Loren freezes, his eyes on my hand, or maybe my dick. I know I've won when he licks his lips. He can’t stay away. He pushes his pants down and rolls on top of me. Loren holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to grip us together. “You really are average,” he says as he toys with our dicks. It’s more of a leisurely thing than orgasm oriented. I don’t mind, it’s hot having him on top of me, touching me, rubbing on me.

“Gee, thanks.”

He glances up, his eyes as mischievous as ever. “—for a Clydesdale.”

I shake my head at him. I’m not that big. I’m not small, but I’m not dwarfing him.

“One day you’re gonna get naked,” he says, his words heavy and breathless. The leisurely handjob is gone. He’s working with precision purpose now. “We’re gonna fuck.”

My eyes roll back. I like the sound of that. “Yeah?”

“Are you a top?”

“Historically,” I answer. He twists his hand and my body twitches from pleasure.

He brings his lips to my ear and pants, “So you’ll fuck me?”

It’s over embarrassingly fast after that. The thought of us naked and Loren riding me…

Once we catch our breath, I reach out like I’m trying to grab something out of the air.

Loren watches in post orgasm subdued confusion. “What are you doing?”

“My virtue,” I say. “It’s getting away.”

He laughs harder than he should. I love the sound of it. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. It’s getting late and he’ll be heading home soon. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

“Are you coming to the game the day after tomorrow? You know you have tickets in willcall.”

“Oh, I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“I know you don’t enjoy watching football but you can still go and cheer for me.”

“But there’s parking and crowds, and people—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. You don’t have to go.”

Loren hugs me from under my shirt. He does this a lot. I don’t think he realizes how desperate he is for skin-to-skin. I don’t say anything because I love it. There’s a good chance that if I bring it up, he’ll stop. Once he’s good and snuggled in, he sighs and closes his eyes.

“I’ll try,” he mumbles against my chest and that’s good enough for me.


I look up from the field, hoping to see a familiar face on the jumbotron, but knowing Loren isn’t out there. It sucks. I want him to want to be out there cheering for me. It’s a terrible game. By the fourth quarter, I’m glad he didn’t come. I walk off the field with my head hung low. Thank god this wasn’t his first live experience. There’s no way I could’ve faked excitement if he was to join me on the field afterward. I would’ve been embarrassed.

Next, I’m off to Denver. I make it as far as security before the crowd forms. It starts with a few whispers and pictures, but then the first person approaches me and it’s over. Everyone’s respectful and, within twenty minutes, I’m at my gate and ready to board.

Will is parked on the curb outside of arrivals. He’s a board member. Friends since college. When Seamus got married to Kelly and moved out of the apartment, Scott and Will moved in. I loved living with them but it was never as easy as living with Seamus.

“You always do this to yourself,” he says, as he pulls away from the curb. He lectures me every time I fly commercial.

“It’s only a few times a year and people love it.”

You love it.”

“I do,” I admit. “These people are going home and sharing their story of how they saw Jay Petermeyer at the airport or that we shared a flight. It’s not much, but I like knowing I made their day.”

“More like their year, but yeah, I know what you’re saying.”


The trip is quick but packed. I spend every minute I can with my buddies. I even babysit little Aidan one night so Seamus and Matt can go out.

It’s my last day. I’m walking down the beverage aisle with a honey-to-do-list from Seamus when I see a kid on his hands and knees reaching deep into the bottom shelf while his friends watch.

“Just get whatever’s left,” a pretty brunette says. “It’s going to sell out if we don’t.”

“She’s right. We barely got here in time for the coconut creamer.”

The poor soul on his knees manages to secure three cases of soda. He stands up and brushes off his pants, then hefts all three cases in his arms. “This can’t taste good. There’s just no way.”

With three cases of Dr. Pepper, two giant containers of coconut creamer, and the largest bottle of lime juice I’ve ever seen, they leave. Honestly, I never would have given them a second glance except the ingredients looked awfully similar to a weekly special I saw at Seamus’s café. Loelife’s Drink of the Week.

Loe. My sweet Loren.

He posts a drink in the morning and the shelves are bare by the afternoon.

I toss a case of water in the cart and dial his number.

Hey you,” I say after the beep. “I just watched a group of kids clean Safeway of all their Dr. Pepper, coconut creamer, and lime juice. It made me think of you. The drink is surprisingly good, by the way. The baristo, as you call them, scammed me of sixty-dollars. Not sure it was worth that much,” I laugh. Remembering how Matt made me tip him and his two friends twenty bones each. Pretty steep for a soda. “Hope the trailer reno is going well. Call me when you’re free.”

I leave another message when I land in Seattle and one more when I get home. After practice, with no return call, I drive straight to Puyallup.

I find Loren in the shop. He’s bent over the trailer frame, grinding it to an inch of its life. Sparks flying everywhere. He’s wearing a tight long sleeve shirt and a face shield. I don’t know if it’s the look or the confidence of a man who knows how to work power tools, but I find myself very attracted to him like this.

Corey elbows me. “Hey,” he whispers. “Want a seat?”

I follow him to the side of the room where Ruby and Isaac are sitting on stools. I watch in silence as Loe does his thing. He’s a natural in front of the camera. I’m continually amazed by him and his talent. There’s not one thing he hasn’t been able to master. Except for learning football, though I don’t think he’s really tried.

The funny blonde guy from before is standing behind the camera. He waves when he sees me.

Loren stands, takes off his protective gear, and looks directly into the camera. “The thing about any renovation is you need to be prepared. I thought the frame was in a lot better shape. In fact, I bought it thinking it was the only salvageable part. Clearly that’s not the case, but I think I finally got the rust off. The next step is to paint it. You need to use a specialized paint that’s made for this type of thing. You can find it at your local hardware store. I have a couple brands linked below if that’s the route you want to go. I decided to reach out to my buddy at RazorLine auto. He’s crazy talented and is going to powder coat this beast for me. I know not everyone can afford—” Loren glances my way and does a double take. He stands there, shocked. He glances between me and the camera a few times. “—Umm.” He flounders. “Uh, not everyone can afford to powder coat the frame…the DIY paint is fine, just follow all the directions and do your prep work. Always do the prep work.”

Loren goes over what the prep would look like.

“I’ve done all I can do. I’ll take the frame to Cameron tomorrow and let him work his magic. But I’ll be back, prepping a few things so we’re ready to hit the ground running when the frame is finished. Have a good night and remember, it doesn’t matter if you’re living the low life or the high life, just make sure you’re living your best life.”

The second they’re done the blonde guy is one me.

“Jay! What an awesome surprise. Did you just get back? I saw the pictures you posted of you and your friends. Who’s that cute-tastic little boy? Omg! I just about died when he was wearing your hat.”

He just keeps going and going. I look at Loren for help but he’s organizing his tools with a grin. He must like my suffering. When he finishes cleaning up, he saves me.

“Sven, leave Jay alone. He needs both ears to play football.”

Sven rolls his eyes. When Loren’s out of earshot, he leans in, “You know, he and I used to hook up all the time when we wrapped up filming. Now he’s all ’shouldn’t you be working?’ and, ’leave Jay alone‘.”

“You two used to…?”

“Oh yeah, all the time,” he says proudly.

“But not anymore?”

“No, not for a while. I’d like to think he started catching feelings and got scared off. He’s never been much of a feely feely person, you know?”

Oh, I know.

I waggle my brows. “Maybe you should ask him if he wants you to stay and edit.”

I only ask because I want to watch Loren flounder some more. I think it would be amusing to see his reaction. I imagine Loren's eyes darting nervously as he waits for me to freak out, but Sven doesn’t take the bait. The no-fly zone between him and Loren has been set in stone. Since Loren is off limits, the small blonde man looks at me with sultry intention. “What about you? Are you free tonight?”

Loren shows up out of nowhere. With a hand on Sven’s shoulder, he shoves him towards his camera and far away from me. “Time to pack up, Sven. This isn’t a brothel.”

Sven rolls his eyes, blah blah blah, but before he leaves, he discreetly gives me another business card. “Good luck next week. Last game of the regular season!” he sings. Then raises the roof with his hands, “Woot woot! I’ll be there!” He’s kind of shameless and hilarious.

Loren ushers Sven to the door and then graciously holds the door open for him, as soon as he’s outside, Loren shuts the door rather hard.

When Loren’s sure that Sven isn’t coming back, he turns around and spots his friends, who are watching everything with great amusement. “You guys are free to leave.”

Corey sticks out his bottom lip and wipes away his non-existent tear. “But we’re having so much fun.”

“I’m sure you are but the show is over. Grab your jackets and get the fuck out of my house,” Loren tells them, shooing them out. They laugh as they head to the door.

Corey looks at me and nods, silently apologizing for being rushed out the door. “Good luck next week.”

“Are you going?” I ask. I hope they are because that means Loren is.

“I wish. Tickets are next to impossible to get.”

I furrow my brows and look at Loren, who is suspiciously busy, then at Corey and Isaac. “Uh, you know you guys always have tickets at willcall, right?”

Their brows hit the sky. They look at Loren like there better be a good excuse coming their way. “What is he talking about?”

Loren pushes the cart of tools to the side of the room. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Isaac hesitates. I think we all know Loren can be stubborn and won’t be forthcoming, so he turns his attention to me. “Have we had tickets at willcall all season?”

I look to Loren for help but his head is down. “Uhh, for the majority of the season, yes.”

Isaac throws his hands in the air. “Are you kidding me Loren?”

“There’s tickets with your name on them if we make it to the championship game,” I tell them, trying to ease the tension, trying to make them happy.

Loren glares at me.

Okay, it didn’t work. I shrug and move to the side. This is his grave. It’s not really my fault. I was under the impression he told them.

Isaac purses his lips and his eyes narrow. “I know Jay just got back, and you’ve been fucking crazy with him gone, so I’m not going to fight tonight, but we will talk tomorrow.” He and Corey walk to the door then pause. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”

It’s quiet as Loren turns off the lights. “Thanks for having my back,” he says as I follow him out the door and to the main house.

“I had your back when I started reserving tickets for you and your friends. You not telling them is on you, not me.”

Loren doesn’t argue because he knows it’s true.

I don’t argue because he’ll have his ass handed to him tomorrow, anyway.

When we get into the house, Loren excuses himself to shower. When he comes back, his hair is damp. He’s wearing a white shirt, dark green sweatpants, and no socks. He collapses on the couch and curls his muscled body into me.

I put my arm around him and run my fingers over the curve of his hip. “Are you done ignoring me?” I ask.

“I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“A little bit, yeah. You didn’t return a single call or text the entire time I was in Denver.”

“Well, it’s not just me. You were busy with your friends.”

I don’t know why Loren is in a mood but I can tell his headspace is shot. I take a breath and try to speak without escalating the situation. “You’re right, I was busy. I did call you often, though. If I made you feel like you’re not a priority then I’m very sorry.”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying you were busy, too. You have your own list of importances.”

I pause, slightly taken aback by his words and the air of confrontation in his tone. “Okay…what’s going on, Loren? I feel like you’re irritated.”

“I’m not.”

He most definitely is. Loren can’t hide anything and right now, his body is almost as tense as his words. I’m not convinced Loren fully knows what’s wrong. He’s angry at me but he’s always cuddled into me. It’s very strange but…very Loren.

I can’t jump in and offer him a solution. I need him to come to me. It’s quiet for so long I almost give up, but then I hear it; a soft, barely audible huff, but it’s enough that I know he’s given in.

“Do you look for other people when you’re out of town?”

I look at Loren to figure out what he’s getting at but he’s got his head buried in my side, hiding. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

I grab his shoulders and force him up. He’s still not making eye contact, but he’s not tucked away, either. “Tell me what has you worried. I want to know.”

He tugs on his hair and scrunches his face. “I don’t know,” he grits out. “I freaked out when you were gone. I was worried that you might realize there’s someone else who's better suited for you.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

He tosses his head back and rolls his eyes like I’m being so dramatic. “Don’t make a thing out of this.”

Ignoring him, I move into his personal space. “Oh, I’m making a big thing out of this. I won’t stop until you know there’s nothing to fear when it comes to me.”

“Sounds terrible,” he groans. He still hasn’t looked at me so I tip his chin in my direction, but he shakes me off. “God no. How embarrassing.” Heaven forbid he looks me in the eyes during a heart-to-heart.

Once I see his big brown, broken-hearted eyes, I chuckle. “Ewe, feelings, so gross,” I mock.

His neck flushes from embarrassment. “You do understand me,” he tries to joke, but it falls flat.

“I find it funny that you’re upset about the thought of me with someone else, meanwhile, that funny Sven guy works ten feet from you.”

“He’s not funny.”

“He’s a little funny.”

This time the corner of his lip curls in a real smile. “I can’t believe he told you we had sex. He’s such a fucking loudmouth.”

“He was just bonding with his favorite player.”

“Whatever,” Loren huffs, but his smile is a little bigger. The iceberg is breaking. “We haven’t hooked up since last July, not that you care since you’re a better man and nothing gets to you, but I thought you should know anyway. And when we were hooking up, it wasn’t serious. Just sex.”

“Just sex.”

“Yeah,” he says, still trying to be grumpy and moody. “ Just sex.”

“On that sofa?” I ask, pointing at the sofa he never let me touch.

“Unfortunately, yes.” After a moment of silence, his eyes dart to mine and he bites his lip. “Are you mad at me?”

I move us so we’re lying on the sofa together. “How long have we been dating?”

“Six months?”

“And if we go to a party, how would you introduce me?”

Loren tries and fails to roll away with a sigh. “This again?”

“Yeah, this again.”

He thinks about it and then awkwardly moves his giant body until he’s straddling me. “I think it’s stupid I have to do this but...” Loren grabs my wrists, pins them on either side of my head, and leans down until he’s in my face. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

The question shouldn’t make me this happy but it does. I hope this brings him security, to know we’re official.

“Could you not be so obsessed with me?” I tease. Loren shakes his head at me and leans down for a kiss, which leads to a bunch of kisses, then longer kisses.

“Now that we’re official, can I get a blowjob?” he asks.

“Oh, I see the real motive behind the question.”

“It is a perk. One I really want. If I don’t cum more regularly, I’m going to lose my balls. They will actually fall off. The doctor said so.”

“The doctor said so, huh?”

Loren rolls his hips almost innocently. “Yeah. I can bring a note if you want. ‘For best results, sex five to twenty-five times a week. Preferably a minimum of once in the morning and once before bed’.”


“Yeah, fifteen would be fine, though.”

I pretend to consider it. “What kind of sex?”

“All of it. More the merrier. The naked kind is best. Doctor says naked sex will help the most. So, lots of naked frotting, handjobs, blow-jobs…”


Loren’s palms press against my chest and he rolls his hips with a little more enthusiasm. “Prostate stimulation will keep my balls healthy for sure.”

“That answers that.”

“I don’t bottom for just anyone, but not because I don’t like it. I have standards and you must be ‘this big for me to ride the ride’,” he says, holding his hands about a foot apart.

I laugh. “I didn’t take you for a size queen.”

“Go big or go home.”

“Or to the hospital with anal tears.”

“That’s…sexy. Thank you for the visual.” He looks at my crotch, which is hard beneath my pants. He smirks. “It would be worth it though…”

Loren stretches out on top of me and kisses me to an inch of my life. We make out aggressively, rubbing against each other, slowly bringing the other close to climax. Loren starts to move down my body and it takes every fiber of my being but I stop him and I hate myself for it.

Loren sits up and scowls. “I thought…”

I quickly pull him back down, not giving him the space to over react. “You thought right. But if we move another step forward, it’s all I’ll want to do all the time. I mean, it already is, but it will become worse. It will drive me nuts that we can’t do it all the time. So, hear me out. If all goes well, I have five weeks left in the season. If we eat shit, it will be less. The second we finish our final game, I’ll come home and we can start filling that Rx. Twenty-five times a day.”

He thinks about it. “Five weeks?”

“Max. Maybe less but for the sake of my career, hopefully not.”

Loren swings his leg off me and stands. “Don’t make plans. You’ll be bed ridden for a week.”

I grab his hand and pull him back on top of me. Just because we’re not taking another step forward doesn’t mean we have to take a step back. We make out slower this time. I quite like running my hands over his body. It’s a nice body. Lot’s of hard shapely muscles.

It’s not over embarrassingly fast like last time. When we finish, we lay on the couch cuddling.

“How’s the trailer going? Seems like you’re doing a lot of work on the frame.”

“Don’t you watch my stories?”


Loren’s mouth opens. “Why not?” he asks, almost as if he’s offended that I don’t spend my day watching him online.

“Then I wouldn’t be able to ask you about it. Whatever you’re doing during the day, I don’t want to learn because I watched it online. I want you to tell me all about it.”

“Technically, you’d listen to me tell it if you watched my stories.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want the version that thirty-seven million other people get.”

His face flushes and a small grin pulls the corner of his lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“You like it.”

Loren spends the next fifteen minutes walking me through the custom cabinets and slide out drawers he’s building in his shop. If he didn’t show me a video, I’d have thought they were professional. I like seeing him in action. I could definitely get used to a daily debriefing like this. When he finishes, we eat ice cream while playing footsies on the ottoman. Loren sets his bowl down, grabs his camera, and snaps a photo of our naked feet together.

“There’s been a lot of speculation about my relationship status lately,” he says as he moves a few things around so he can get the best photo possible. “This will keep them busy.”

“Busy with what?”

Loren laughs. “Finding out who I’m playing footsies with. If you have even one picture out there of your naked feet, they will have you named by morning. The internet is a crazy place,” he says. “I should actually charge for this photo. People would pay big bucks for it.”

“Of our feet?”

“Fuck yeah,” he says, rubbing my feet with his in a kind of sexy way. “Feet fetishes are a big thing. I get requests for feet pictures all the time.”

I grab his hands in mine. “What if you post one of our hands instead?”

“How many pictures are on the internet of you holding a football? Thousands. They’d have us named in an hour. A lot of people have seen us together, so it’s going to get out regardless, but feet will make it harder to confirm.”

I watch Loren crop and edit the photo. Again, he’s so good at it. It has a romantic, snuggling-by-the-fire kind of feel. There’s a blanket draped over the ottoman and a book lying next to our feet. He gets the photo ready to post online then looks at me for permission.

“Go ahead. I don’t even care if they figure it out.”

Once the photo is posted for the world to scrutinize, he sets the phone down, curling into me, and slides his hand under my shirt, a little lower than what is considered respectful. “Five weeks, huh?”


Week one of the five-week countdown ends in a massive blowout against the Jaguars. Our favor. We play an almost flawless game that leaves me grinning from ear to ear. At the end, before the turf is flooded, I look at the crowded seats where Loren and his friends are sitting. I can’t see them but I know they’re there because the jumbotron spotted Loren earlier in the game.

I hadn’t thought about it but I wonder if he stayed away because he didn’t want to get mauled by people the whole time? Or maybe to keep things under wraps for a little longer? I decide to see if I can get him into a suite next season.

Week two is wildcard weekend. We don’t have to play because we’re ranked so high, but we do have to study the teams who play. When Marcus, Garrett, Shawn, and I are not studying or practicing, we’re doing rounds on the media circuits. We even fly to California for a few talk show appearances. There’s a lot of chatter about our odds at not only NFC Champions but as Superbowl contenders.

Week three is the divisional playoffs. We play Tampa Bay. If we win, the next game is for the NFC Championship. If we lose, the season ends. We haven’t made it past the wildcard round in years so the pressure is real.

The night before we fly to Florida, Loren comes over and makes me dinner. This is the first time I’ve had his culinary skills aimed in my direction. The table is covered in a navy cloth and expertly set to the point it rivals the finest restaurants I’ve ever stepped foot in. He doesn’t talk about work and doesn’t ask about football. It’s just him and I and the best meal I’ve ever had. The man can cook something fierce but it’s more than that. It’s his effort and his attention.

I’m quickly learning that when Loren sets out to learn something, he will become the best at it.

Once the food is gone and the kitchen is clean, we curl up on the sectional and relax with a Denali documentary playing quietly in the background. For someone who had recently worked himself into a panic over suggesting a snuggle, he’s sure giving them away freely now.

“How would you feel about getting away?” he asks.

“I can’t go anywhere right now.”

“When the season is over, dumbass. I was thinking we could take a week away.”

I like the sound of that. It’s something I’ve thought about many times but I assumed Loren would say no, so I never brought it up. “I’d like that. What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Something private. Quiet.”

“Do you want to plan it? If not, I can have David do it,” I offer. My assistant sets up the annual Mexico vacation every year and each year is better than the last. He knows all the good spots and is great with discretion. Depending on how the next game goes, David is going to plan last-minute stays for a dozen people for the Championship game and I have no doubts it will be great.

Loren stretches next to me, slinging his muscled thigh over mine. His wide shoulders adjust as his arms snake around my body. He’s already pushed my shirt up so he could burrow against me skin-to-skin. “Either way.”

I rub my cheek against the top of his head and I watch as my hand glides over his perfect muscled ass.

As good as David is, I want to know what Loren’s ideal vacation for us would look like. I want to know where he’d go and what we’d do. “How about you plan it?”

He nods into my chest and we spend the rest of the evening throwing ideas around. The one common denominator is privacy. When he asks about the budget, I tell him I’m open. I don’t imagine him doing anything too crazy but privacy comes at a cost and it’s something we’re both willing to pay for.

“Two weeks left,” he says before leaving for the night.

“God willing.”


We scrape by for a win against Tampa Bay. The list of errors is a mile long but a win is a win. In the underdog story of the decade, the LA Rams beat the Steelers. It’s their first time making the playoffs in twenty years. Before that, it was 1951. On one hand we feel confident. The Rams haven’t been a contending team in years. On the other hand, they should not be underestimated.

For the Championship game, David found a cool hotel conversion that he was able to snatch up for a price. Marcus, Shawn, Garrett, and I are splitting costs.

“You’re coming, right?” I ask Loren for the hundredth time.

“You didn’t really give me a choice once you told my friends they have tickets. I do have a meeting the day you want us to come up, so I’ll land a few hours later than everyone else.”

“As you’re there.”

I want him there, in the stands, looking sexy as hell in my jersey.

If all goes well, I’ll have him naked and under me in less than two weeks.

Copyright © 2022 Mrsgnomie; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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