“Jizz? That’s such a gross word,” I said primly.
“Do you like cum better?”
“That’s kind of gross too.”
“All right. How about semen?”
I snickered. “Too clinical.”
“Picky, picky. Spunk? Love glue? Cock snot?”
I threw my head back on the pillow and burst into laughter. “Cock snot?”
Gabe waggled his brows, then leaned in and bit my bottom lip. “Well, I gave you choices. Which one?”
“Cum is fine.”
He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. “Your cum tastes amazing.”
“Oh, my God. I’m not ready for cum talk,” I groused, closing my eyes.
Gabe chuckled, scooting closer to me so his half-hard cock rested against mine. He squeezed my ass until I looked at him. “I’ll be good. I don’t want to scare you away now. I’ve had a crush on you for a while. I figured you were straight and that I never had a chance. To be here with you right now…this is fucking amazing.”
“Yeah. It is,” I agreed. We stared at each other with matching sappy smiles for a moment until I added, “We’re not telling anyone, right? I mean, you’re not out and I—”
“Did you want to come out?” he asked, looking slightly alarmed.
“No way! I’m not ready. I need some time to adjust. I’m assuming you want to keep quiet too.”
“Yeah. I need to keep my head down and play well. No personal drama.”
“Do you really think anyone cares?”
“Some might. My dad would for sure. I want to say I don’t care, but I’m not ready to deal with the bullshit.”
“That works for me. We can find excuses to be together…I mean, if you want,” I added.
“I want,” he said in a sultry tone that turned me inside out.
I traced his lip with the tip of my finger and whimpered when he sucked the digit greedily. “Mmm. I—can we do it again?”
He chuckled, then hooked his leg over my thigh and pumped his hips. “Fuck, yeah.”
I moaned with pleasure at the renewed friction and sealed my mouth over his as Gabe rolled on top of me. I’d never given up control to a lover, but I instinctively let Gabe lead. I liked the feel of his weight. He was strong yet lithe. He moved over me forcefully, the way he did in the water. But here I could give in and let go.
And something in that surrender felt like my first true taste of freedom.
4
Within a couple of weeks, fall semester and the regular water polo season were in full swing. The schedule was grueling. I began my day at the crack of dawn, jumped into the pool, went to school for a few hours, then got back into the pool or onto a bus bound for a game or a tournament at another university somewhere in So Cal. By the time I finally arrived home, I was freaking exhausted and I usually still had some studying or reading to do before I crashed for the night. I’d been doing a variation of this routine since I was in junior high school. The long days and physical fatigue hardly fazed me. In fact, I kind of got off on the adrenaline rush. But Gabe was a game changer.
His presence added an element of danger I found simultaneously exciting and scary as hell. As he’d pointed out, the biggest challenge was being on the same team and pretending our friendship was a gradual thing. I was a terrible actor. Feigning indifference when Gabe walked into a room wasn’t easy.
I’d always thought he was attractive, but his looks were only part of his appeal. Gabe exuded confidence. And let’s face it, there was nothing quite as sexy as self-assurance with the right amount of swagger. Some days I was sure I’d give myself away. He didn’t have to do much to make my heart beat like a drum. The sight of him walking onto a pool deck in a low-slung Speedo that left little to the imagination was enough to turn me on.
Gabe seemed better at compartmentalizing this new thing between us. When he was in the pool, he was focused and centered. He might be funny and engaging in the locker room but once we hit the water, he gave his all and expected the same from everyone on the team. Including me. That wasn’t exactly an issue. I tended to be as serious in the pool as I was in everyday life, which was probably part of why I was chosen to be team captain. I was a hard worker, but Gabe was the natural-born leader.
His love of the game showed in everything he did. He was an asset at the net with a fierce cross-cage shot that always seemed to take the other team by surprise, and he never backed down on defense. He had a habit of pumping his fist in the air and then smacking the water when he made a goal. I’d hated it when we were opponents and I was the guy he’d scored on. Now, it made me laugh. He was equally supportive of everyone else’s achievements. He whooped and cheered his fellow teammates for a job well done with an innate joy that was truly inspirational.