Jay's Loelife Ch. 16

Uhhh...

"I can't list all your injuries, but you barely played three seasons because of them. You had shoulder surgery followed by knee surgery, yet you jump down my throat when I go rock climbing. Somehow my choices are more dangerous than yours? And just now, you had that tone you get when you stand on your soapbox. You were coming at me about my schedule when you're just as busy, if not busier. Our jobs and our lives are the same in a lot of ways, but you see us valued very differently."

He moves like he's going to get off me, but I pull him back. I may be at a loss for words, but that doesn't mean I don't want to talk about it. The truth can be confusing at times.

Loren sits back with his ass on my knees as he waits for me to pull myself together.

Finally, I look him in the eyes. I honestly don't know what to say, so I start with the basics. "I'm sorry. You're right about pretty much everything."

"I'm right about everything," he corrects with an air of cockiness.

I smile because Loren is so damn amazing. I grab his shirt and pull him down for a chaste kiss. "No, not everything. You make it seem like I don't value you. The truth is, I value you too much, which is why I've been such a caveman. As misguided as my actions are, they come from a place of protection and...selfishness. I am sorry. And, you are right. I don't apply the same rules to you as I do to myself, and I have been double-standarding you. I get hurt all the time, it's not that big of a deal to me. But you? A piece of me died when I saw you twirling around like a rag doll on that mountain. I don't want to see you hurt, or stressed, or so busy with work that you feel like you can't have fun."

"But I like what I do. That's why I do it. I like my schedule. If I oppose something, I voice it. I'm not a fucking pushover, it's my life after all. But my name is a brand, a brand that people need to make ends meet. That's why days like today exist. Everyone in that room today is part of my team and they rely on what we do to survive. It's how they make their living. I take that very seriously."

"I know."

"And you really think that I'm indifferent to you?" he asks. "You think I'm too busy to go to your games?"

"You don't like football..." I have a feeling that's not the whole truth, but I'm about to find out what is.

"There's a lot about the sport I despise, but the game itself has never bothered me...until you. The first game I watched after I started crushing on you was...terrible. The force in which you got hit made me sick. I don't go to the games because it's hard for me to watch you play. When I do watch the games, it fucks me up in the head."

I wrap my arms around his waist. "Ahhh, that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. You love me."

Loren huffs. "You don't have to make a big deal about it."

"I do. Loren Patrick, of livingtheloelife, with thirty-eight-point-nine-million followers, loves little 'ol Jay Petermeyer."

"Loved. Past tense."

"Loves. Current tense," I correct. I press my finger to his forehead. "So much it messes with his head."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he grumbles and tries to get off me again, but I'm having too much fun. I hold him in place. He might've been a bodybuilder for two-seconds, years ago, but I'm Jay Petermeyer. I stop QB's in their tracks. If I want him on my lap, he's not going anywhere.

"I have two years left on my contract."

He stops resisting and looks at me like he's giving me two seconds to get to the point before he loses his patience.

"I have to decide if I keep playing or retire. What are your thoughts?"

"Uh, that two years is a really fucking long way away and you're not seriously asking me to have input on something as big as renegotiating your contract or fucking retiring."

The corner of my lips pulls. He's so cute. "Play it off all you want, but you love me. And in less than two years we'll be having a very serious conversation."

"What? Are you going to be proposing? Thanks for the heads up."

Loren. The king of trying to pretend like things aren't serious when they are. I let it go for now. There is no doubt in my mind that we will circle back. We haven't totally resolved the double standard thing, but there is a better understanding of each other's job. Compromise is the true way to happiness. I'll still worry about him and he'll still worry about me. That will never change, but right now, there's another way we can compromise.

I growl playfully. He grins because he thinks he won this little battle. I try to flip him over but he trained with Kyle Snyder and holds his own against me. I concede, but only because doing so means I'm flat on my back and he's straddling me, sweating and breathing heavily.

We stare at each other. Loren's gaze shifts when he realizes what we could be doing. He quickly slips his hand down the front of my sweats. His eyes roll back as if he's the one that's getting fondled. It's sexy that this turns him on.

While he's busy in my pants, I shimmy him out of his. He leans over me and feeds me his cock until he's shaking. I slide my finger between his cheeks and press hard enough to send him over the edge. He's not done, though. Naked, he moves on my lap seductively.

There's no better view in the entire world. It's my favorite. Loren knows it. He knows I love watching him move on top of me. The way his hips rock and grind against me like a professional dancer. He took lessons once. I couldn't bring myself to watch the video, but I sure like reaping the benefits.

My dick hasn't even left my pants when I feel my balls tighten. Loren grins and puts his hands on my chest and moves faster, grinding harder, breathing faster. "I wish I was riding you for real. Feeling all of you--"

My back arches. He keeps moving, dragging everything I have from my body.

I breathe deep. "I call foul. I'm not even naked. It doesn't count."

Loren stands up and walks towards his room. "Balls still in play..."

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I'm naked before we reach his bed.

****

With training camp around the corner, I kick things into high gear. I usually spend a good portion of the off season in Wisconsin with the family and training with my brothers, but, you know...Loren. After talking with him, and him threatening to withhold blowjobs, I agree to fly back for three weeks so I won't get my ass whipped by my mother.

It's punishing. It feels like I'm in the worst shape of my life. It doesn't help that Mom and Dad try to feed me everything under the sun. But when I get back to Seattle, I feel so much better; both mentally and physically.

I have one week until I have to report for training camp. I want this season to be different from the last. Not professionally, but personally. I want it to be different for Loren.

"Come to training camp," I ask over lunch. He just got done at the gym and his ripped tee leaves nothing to the imagination. The caveman in me is glad he wasn't filming for content. Mine. "They open it to the public and I want you to come. Bring the guys. I'm sure they'd like it."

Loren swallows a bite of his sandwich. "Sounds...boring."

I laugh. Typical Loren. "It might be. But it's not full contact like the games. I think you'll like it. Plus, you can sit close to the field and I can come say hi during the breaks. I'll show off for you."

"What do I get out of the deal?"

"You get to see me in my practice gear."

The corner of his lip curls. He may not like the sport, but he's not opposed to the uniform. Except, he doesn't know what practice gear looks like and I've got a trick or two up my sleeve.