Schooling the Jock (Nerds Vs Jocks #1) - - Eli Easton Page 0,43

end in the wet area. We’ve got time.”

He nodded and strode away.

I shucked my clothes, slid into my shower flip-flops, and wrapped a towel around my waist, then picked up another one to sit on since the tile surfaces of the steam room got hot.

As I opened the door to the room, a huge gush of wet whiteness exploded out at me. The steam was thick, and hissing filled the space. I knew the big room pretty well, so I made my way across the wet floor and found the bottom tile bench. Feeling my way up, I discovered the next tier and lay my extra towel out on it, and then lay down up there, and just soaked it in.

The door opened, I saw the outline of a body, and then it closed again. A disembodied voice that sounded a lot like Dobbs said, “Wow. I feel like the fog will clear, and I’ll see Scarlett Johansen in period dress standing in front of a train.”

I snorted. “Pretty sure Scarlett Johansen isn’t in here, but keep dreaming. I’m up top. You’ll feel the bench. Just keep a hand out. The steam will go off in a sec.”

The wet slap of feet signaled he was moving. A couple seconds later, I heard a sigh.

I chuckled. “Nice, huh?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.”

I loved the steam room. It warmed me from the inside out and left me clean and shiny.

The disembodied Dobbs said, “Is your shoulder okay? I get so tight running, I’ve gotten pretty good at deep tissue massage. Want me to work on it for you?”

Everything in me went still, like a small animal staring at a predator. His tone didn’t sound snarky, so maybe he didn’t mean anything by it, but just the thought of Dobbs’s long fingers digging into my sore muscles increased blood flow to the groin.

I swallowed hard, and just at that second, the hiss of steam silenced, and the dense fog began to clear. I let out a long breath. “Uh, thanks but I better get to class.”

Heart still hammering at my own renegade brain, I sat up, swung my legs over, and made my way to the floor of the room. I could see Dobbs lying up top on a towel but, uh, with no other towel. He’d just pulled an edge over his crotch, and it wasn’t doing much of a job.

He turned his head toward me. “Oh no, leaving so soon? Say it isn’t so, Daddy.”

I snorted. I knew he meant it like a little kid whining, but the other implications cranked my chain even harder. Must get out of here, before…

Like I’d made it happen, Dobbs sat up, grabbed his now soggy towel and leaped to the steam-room floor, stark naked.

Holy shit. I’d seen him in pajama pants, tight jeans, and a host of a lot less-flattering clothes, and while they suggested that Dobbs was better endowed than his medium height and slim frame would predict, they’d not done nearly enough preparation. There, between his nicely toned thighs, hung the cock of champions. A real shower with low-hanging balls, a well-formed and surprisingly thick shaft, and a full mushroom head.

I knew I was staring, and I could not stop.

Halfway through licking my lips, I caught myself and bit my tongue instead, but I couldn’t get my eyeballs to move.

Finally, with an effort of pure will equal to the power I used to propel myself after an uncatchable ball, I managed to get my gaze up to his face—only to see his stare riveted on my crotch.

Come on. At least I’m covered.

I flicked my glance down—and watched in horror as the white terrycloth towel rose like the sun over desert landscape.

Chapter Twelve

Dobbs

“Late for class. Bye.” Jesse pivoted and was out the door of the steam room so fast, I imagined bleachers full of football fans standing and cheering at the slick maneuver. While I stood there, frozen stiff in a steam room, gobsmacked.

Wait. What?

Was Jesse…gay? Bi? Feeling curious? Or maybe he was steam-sexual?

My head went woozy, and I sat abruptly on the steam-room bench. The vapors started up again, filling the room with white. I wiped my face with one hand and tried to wrap my head around what had just happened.

Jesse Knox had just stared at my dick. Like really stared. Like cartoon stared. The sort of cartoon where the eyeballs pop three feet out of the character’s head. A-woo-ga!

And he’d gotten a boner.

Hey, I was a logic guy. The proximity of those

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