Coming Attraction (Coastal College Football Book 2)

by Felix Brooks

  He’d been making excuses for his parents his whole life, telling himself that their bigotry was just one facet of them. But now he saw that it permeated every part of them, like a beam of light shining through liquid. The parts didn’t exist independently. They all reflected back on each other.

  He and Emmett rose and shook hands with Ms. Vazquez, then headed out into the warm spring day. Despite his parents trying to ruin his life, things were falling into place. He was finding a new normal. With Waseem at his side, he couldn’t ask for more.

  Chapter 21

  Waseem popped the cork off the bottle of sparkling cider in the kitchen of the new apartment he shared with Brent. Waseem’s family had headed back to Raleigh after the big graduation day celebration. Now, it was just him and the man he loved sharing a little quiet time. Waseem poured, then raised his glass. “To new beginnings.”

  Brent clinked his champagne flute against it, then sipped. “You have the nicest family. They made me feel welcome, when they had lots of reasons not to.”

  “Why, because of your religion? Your skin color? Everyone in the world isn’t obsessed about ethnic differences.”

  “I’ve heard rumors about that.” Brent grinned. “I wasn’t sure they were really true.”

  “My mom says progress doesn’t move in a straight line. It’s a spiral upward. We’ve cycled into a new phase of xenophobia and homophobia, so it seems like we’re going backward. But in fact it’s way better than the last phase of xenophobia and homophobia, if that makes any sense. Minoring in history, I got a sense of perspective. It keeps me from feeling despair over how things are now. And just think how much they’ll improve by the time our kids are our age.”

  “I want a bunch of kids,” Brent said. “A houseful—if I make it into the pros, and we can afford it. Maybe have a couple of kids who are biologically ours, then adopt a bunch who are stuck in the foster care system. Kids who’ve never felt loved.”

  The thought warmed Waseem. It would mean a lot to Brent to give some kids the love he felt he’d lacked growing up. And Waseem loved his big family. He wouldn’t mind half a dozen kids of his own.

  “One step at a time, though,” Waseem said. “We’ve got a football team to whip into shape. Without Emmett’s leadership, it won’t be easy.”

  “We’ll have you. And I bet Niels will step up.”

  “I haven’t given up hope on him, at least.” Waseem finished his cider, sweet and bubbly, and set down his glass. “Are you ready to retire to our new king-sized bed?”

  Brent rose and held out his hand. Waseem accepted it, and they headed to the bedroom.

  They undressed quickly and got under the covers. It was becoming routine now, since they’d stopped hiding. Spending the nights together had become an everyday event. But Waseem would never take it for granted. Not after the pain of slipping out into the cold night, worrying that someone might see in the daylight.

  They faced each other, and Waseem ran his hand down Brent’s arm, enjoying the solid feel of muscle. He wanted to be with this man every day for the rest of his life. He was determined to make that happen.

  Brent leaned in and kissed him. It was slow but insistent, lips suckling, teeth nipping. The sensations were intoxicating, but Waseem was full to aching, and he needed more.

  He wrapped his arms around Brent and laid him on his back. Moving over him, he brushed their fat cocks together. His brain short circuited at the pleasure of it. He couldn’t think straight. He could only feel.

  Brent moaned. “I love it when you’re on top of me. Nothing can reach me when you’re there, taking care of me.”

  “I’ll always take care of you.” He thrust his hips more insistently.

  Brent keened. “I love that hard cock, Waseem. I want more of it. I want it to fill me up.”

  That stopped Waseem. He rolled onto his side. “Are you sure?”

  Waseem had been happy bottoming. He hadn’t even brought up the other option. What had brought this on?

  “Seeing how much you like it,” Brent said, “I want to at least try. If I hate it, we don’t ever have to do it again. But I doubt that I’ll hate it. Not with you.”

  Whatever hesitation Waseem felt was put to rest. If they were going to do this though, they were going to take it slow. It seemed like such a gift that everything he’d done with Brent had been Brent’s first time. And now they’d be experiencing this final first together. Waseem would make it good for him. He would make it unforgettable.

  They started with a shower together, and the hot water seemed to help Brent relax. Then they moved back to the bed. Waseem sucked him, swallowing him down and swirling his tongue over that thick heat, to make sure Brent was good and horny.

  Slowly he kissed down Brent’s balls and licked along the taint. Brent seemed surprised by that, the sensitivity of that little patch of flesh. But Waseem was only starting.

  Hands full of Brent’s ass cheeks, he spread them further to get access to Brent’s starburst. He gently teased, and Brent gasped. “Holy shit!”

  Waseem chuckled low in his throat. Brent was an expressive and appreciative lover. Waseem had been with enough guys to know they weren’t all like that. Some guys thought it was cool to act unaffected, even when you knew you were rocking their world. It never seemed to occur to Brent that expressing pleasure might be uncool. It was part of his sweet naïveté. Waseem couldn’t get enough of it.

  He circled the rosette with his tongue, and pressed the tip inside. Brent tasted so good, so clean and earthy, Waseem could have done that all night. But there were still so many pleasures to explore.

  He got out the lube and condoms. “I’ll start with my fingers,” Waseem said. “I won’t do more unless you say it’s okay. We don’t have to do everything tonight. We’ve got lots of time.”

  Brent just nodded, his eyes glazed. Waseem knew that look. Brent didn’t always like to talk much during sex, which was fine with Waseem. They didn’t need words to communicate.

  He opened the lube and spread a little on his finger and on Brent’s asshole. He loved how it felt, the tender, sensitive flesh. He pressed inside gently, and Brent let out a deep moan. “More.”

  So he slid in deeper, encountering no resistance. He could hardly believe Brent was this relaxed for his first time. He didn’t want him to tense up, so he searched for Brent’s gland.

  Brent cried out, his body folding in half. “Hell, Waseem. That’s amazing.”

  Waseem just smiled.

  He applied more lube and fitted in a second finger to go with the first. He thrust and twisted, learning Brent’s body, learning what he liked. “Ready for the main event?”

  “Don’t make me wait.”

  Waseem rolled on a condom and slicked it up. He aligned himself with Brent’s hole. “Take a deep breath for me.”

  Brent did, and as he exhaled, Waseem’s cap slipped inside. “Ungh!” Brent cried.

  Waseem gently moved, helping Brent adjust. With each breath, he penetrated further. And when he found Brent’s sweet spot, the muscles of Brent’s face relaxed into pure pleasure.

  ***

  Brent closed his eyes. He had known it would be intense. He hadn’t imagined anything like this.

  Waseem filled him, and each time he brushed against Brent’s gland, Brent’s desire grew stronger. His greedy body wanted more.

  “That’s it. Don’t hold back,” Brent begged. “Fuck me.”

  Waseem pressed inside, and soon was buried up to his balls. He stayed in that position, holding his body over Brent’s. “I want you to feel me. All of me.”

  Brent did. He felt every inch. It was too much and not enough at the same time. He rocked his body, taking and releasing, until Waseem pulled almost all the way out, then rammed him hard.

  “Yes!” That was what Brent wanted. A hard, desperate rhythm that marked him as Waseem’s. Giving his body to his lover in this way was the most intimate thing he had ever done—raw and earthy and demanding, stripping away any pretense. Bre
nt needed this. Needed to be fucked and possessed. Waseem had awakened this part of him, and now it was insatiable.

  “Harder,” Brent begged.

  Waseem pulled out and rolled Brent over. He slid a pillow under Brent’s hips and went to town on his ass, pounding relentlessly. It was everything Brent never knew he wanted.

  The tightening in his balls told him orgasm was close. Waseem wasn’t even touching Brent’s cock. But that didn’t stop the release from building.

  Waseem’s tongue glided along Brent’s spine until he reached his nape. Waseem sucked there, hard enough to leave a mark. That did it for Brent. The quickening in his shaft told him he was past the point of no return.

  The next moment, he erupted. He shouted and writhed against the pillow. Waseem didn’t let up, and Brent came and came.

  It didn’t take long for Waseem to shudder and cry out. He collapsed on top of Brent, kissing his neck. Waseem held him gently, stroking his hair. Brent had never felt more satiated or more loved.

  They cleaned up and turned off the lights. It had been a long day. Wrapped in Waseem’s arms, head against his chest, Brent floated in a warm pool of contentment. For the first time in his life, he was home.

  Chapter 22: Epilogue

  The following May, Brent drove his new Mercedes up in front of his parents’ house. He parked on the street and got out, along with Waseem and Michael. Emmett pulled in behind them in his big ass truck with Jake.

  Michael had arranged for Brent to pick him up from college, without their parents knowing. To avoid suspicion, he’d told them he was finishing the semester a few days later than he actually was. Brent didn’t approve of lying, but he didn’t see how Michael had had a choice.

  Their mother’s face appeared in the window, and she rushed out. “Brent, honey, you’re home! And Michael, too. This is a happy day.”

  Brent wasn’t sure what to make of that. His mother had made no attempt to contact him in the thirteen months since she’d walked out of his apartment with his belongings. Was she waiting for him to come crawling back? Was she too proud to admit she had been wrong? He forced himself to stop asking questions. It didn’t matter what her reasons were. Her silence told him everything he needed to know.

  “We’re not here for long,” Brent said, standing firm at the side of the car. “We’re just picking up Michael’s things. He’s moving in with me.”

  She paled. “Now that’s just nonsense. Michael is my boy. He’s going to stay with me until he finishes college.”

  “I’m not your boy,” Michael said. “I’m nineteen. I’ll live where I want.”

  Their father came barreling out of the house. “What you think you’re doing here? Michael, get away from them.”

  Emmett and Jake walked up to Brent’s dad, and Emmett held out his hand. “Mr. Adams, it’s good to meet you. I’m Emmett Cross.”

  Brent’s dad just looked at the burly football player who was twice his own size. Any fight in him deflated. He shook Emmett’s hand.

  “My boyfriend Jake and I are going to help Michael pack his things,” Emmett explained. “Waseem, he’s just gonna stay here on the front porch. Make sure y’all stay out of Brent’s way.” He and Jake flanked Michael and headed inside.

  Brent’s mom and dad just stood, his mom in the driveway, his dad on the lawn. His mom stared, twisting a dishtowel in her hands. His dad, red-faced, wouldn’t even look at Brent.

  A couple of minutes later, his sister came out the door. She ignored Waseem and bounded down the stairs. She crossed halfway to the street and stopped, glaring at Brent. “I hope you’re properly ashamed of yourself for the way you’ve humiliated your family.”

  “Nice to see you, too, Mary Beth.”

  “We can hardly show our faces around town, because of you.”

  “Maybe you live in the wrong town.”

  She looked at him with such hate in her eyes, he could hardly believe she was the same girl he’d played hide and seek with as a preschooler, or rode bikes with until it was almost dark in the summertime. His parents had managed to poison her, and that made him sad. But he didn’t have time to waste on people who thrived on hate.

  His life was too good now for him to look back on what he’d left behind. He’d been a second round draft pick and had signed a contract worth more money than he had ever thought he would see in a lifetime. Waseem was in negotiations to join the team’s coaching staff. He’d have to start small, but at least he’d be able to travel with Brent.

  Brent looked over at his mother, feeling sorry for her. Clearly, she had a heart after all. What she seemed to be missing was a spine. She accepted what other people told her without argument, instead of thinking for herself. Even when facing the loss of her two sons, she stood there as if helpless. As if a victim of her own life.

  Michael, Emmett, and Jake came out of the house carrying bags and suitcases. They piled them into the back of the truck. “That’s everything,” Michael said.

  Brent took one long look at the house he’d grown up in. He doubted he’d ever see it again. And that was okay. He’d spent a year coming to terms with what his parents were. A part of him would always love them, but he no longer wanted them in his life. He was grateful he could rescue Michael from their influence as well.

  They drove to Brent’s big new house in Charlotte. It sat on a lake where he could watch the rising sun glitter on the water. Waking up to that view with Waseem by his side was one of the greatest pleasures he could imagine in life.

  To celebrate, they splurged on takeout pizza and beer, even though it wasn’t the healthiest meal in the world for two professional athletes. It felt like old times. But Jake and Emmett didn’t have much time in North Carolina, and they wanted to spend it with their families. They left around eight for the drive back to Raleigh.

  Brent made sure Michael was settled, then joined Waseem in the master. It was set off from the rest of the house, their own little sanctuary. Waseem sat behind him on the bed, rubbing his shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

  “I haven’t quite processed it yet. I’m sad, not so much for me but for the person I used to be. Little Brent would hate that things turned out this way. He was such a loving kid.” He broke down, and Waseem’s big, strong arms wrapped around him.

  But the wave of emotion quickly passed, leaving him with a dull ache. Waseem’s touch soothed him. One day soon, they would get married. They weren’t officially engaged, but they talked about it all the time. Now that Brent had graduated, it wouldn’t be long before they were ready to take that step.

  He was sorry about what he’d lost, but he’d found joy in Waseem and their friends. Now that Michael was safe, Brent had nothing left to wish for.

  Brent and Waseem crawled under the covers and turned off the light. He lay his head on Waseem’s chest, cocooned in his arms. Not so long ago, he thought he might never have something like this. He knew how lucky he was. Still, after the day he’d had, he tossed in bed.

  “You okay?” Waseem asked.

  “Too wired to sleep.” A wicked thought crossed his mind. “You know what I usually do when I’ve got insomnia?”

  Waseem chuckled. “I think you told me once.”

  “Care to join me?”

  “I don’t know, man, that sounds kind of gay.”

  “Not as gay as you. Now pass me the lube.”

  ***

  Thanks for reading Coming Attraction!

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  Excerpt from Up and Coming

  Book 1 in the Coastal College Football series

  An unexpected love could cost him his dreams.

  Emmett doesn't have time to date. A college quarterback on a path to turning pro, he can't afford distractions. When he's blindsided by a growing attraction to his friend Jake, he fights it—rumors he's bisexual could wreck his draft prospects.

  Biochem major Jake has had a straight-boy crush on Emmett since freshman year. He’s sure nothing ca
n come of his longing—until a scorching kiss turns desire into hope.

  When their secret threatens to come out, will Emmett give up Jake to protect his career—or risk everything for love?

  “Come on, Amber, it’s not like that.” Emmett pulled from her grip. She’d been hovering around him all evening, and now she had cornered him in a dark upstairs hallway of the frat house. She was a close friend, and pretty, too—pouty red lips, heart-shaped face, soft umber-brown complexion—but pretty wasn’t what he was after.

  Music thrummed from the dance floor below, vibrating through his Nike trainers. He had only planned to go to the party for an hour, have a beer, then get back to work on his English paper. But he and Waseem got to talking, and one beer turned into two. He didn’t give much thought to Amber, and he certainly didn’t expect her to follow him to his room.

  “I can make you happy, baby,” she murmured, alcohol on her breath. He hadn’t noticed how much she had drunk, but it was probably more than she should’ve. And her friend Glenda had left earlier, so he should be a gentleman and walk her to her dorm. Which was bound to give her the wrong idea.

  “I’m not looking for a girlfriend right now. I need to focus on football.” To be honest, he wasn’t sure why he had stopped dating. As gorgeous as Amber was, and as much as he liked her, he just wasn’t interested in her that way.

  “Look, it’s late,” he said. “Let’s get you back to Harmony Hall so you can sleep it off.”

  “I could sleep here,” she teased. “You won’t regret it.”

  He gently clutched her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “You know I care about you. We’re friends, but that’s all.”

  He turned to the sound of footsteps. When Waseem rounded the corner, Emmett sighed in relief.

  “There you are.” Waseem put his arm around Amber, guiding her toward the stairs. “I promised Glenda I’d make sure you got home okay.”