Benched: Volumes 4-6 Boxed Set Page 9

  “Step it up, Kelley! Sprinting, not jogging. I thought I heard you were fast.”

  Kyle bent over, shoulders heaving, glaring at the ground. He was coated with a muddy mix of dirt and sweat, his body gnarled into fiery knots, his arms shaking so badly he’d barely been able to muscle a lob into center during batting practice. But he was still faster than anyone else on the team, even drop dead exhausted.

  “Fuck you,” he panted, but it didn’t register, just sounded like more harsh breaths. Still, when he looked up and saw Mackey glaring at him, he was sure somehow he’d heard him.

  He really wished those eyes didn’t affect him anymore. It was fading, but it was still there. Even half dead, that look made his cock jump, sent ice cold shivers through his body.

  “Did you hear me?” Mackey asked him, coming closer, obviously repeating himself.

  Kyle stood up, his ears buzzing, wiping sweat off his brow and nodding, even though he hadn’t heard a damn thing.

  “Well?”

  Shit. He bent back down, spitting to get his dry mouth wet again, and tried to work out what he might have said. No clue.

  “I don’t know. What? I didn’t hear you.”

  “So ask me to repeat it, don’t lie to my face.”

  Jesus. So no slack at all, then.

  Kyle cleared his throat, wishing he could clear his head the same way. “What’d you say?”

  If he still had a thing for Mackey, which he most definitely did not, the way he looked at him then, exasperated, like he wanted to shake him, probably do a lot more than that, might have made his gut burn and his balls clench, which it definitely didn’t. Mostly. Fuck, he was such an asshole.

  “I said I want ten minutes with you after practice. In my office. You hear me that time?”

  He heard, alright. And his badly shaking thighs were suddenly shaking twice as hard. Even though Mackey’s office didn’t mean anything anymore, at least not what it used to, and even though this time he actually hadn’t done anything, his cock was suddenly twice as hard too. Fuck. He was such an asshole.

  * * *

  Monday practice always sucked, everyone recovering from the weekend. Moving a little slower, bitching a little louder, slamming lockers a little harder. This Monday especially, getting changed seemed almost beyond his capabilities.

  “Why didn’t you tell me groundskeeping didn’t mean groundskeeping?”

  Juno smirked, banging his locker open beside him. “Because you’re a freshman.”

  “I’m not just any freshman,” Kyle snapped, yanking his shirt off.

  “You’re still a freshman.”

  “Whatever. That’s bullshit.” He rubbed his eyes, wincing. They stung like hell.

  “You have class?” Juno asked him.

  “Yeah, but fuck that. I’m going home. I’m dying.”

  “You’re skipping class?”

  Kyle nodded, leaning his forehead against his locker, letting the metal cool him down. He could feel his teeth coming together to grind in irritation, and shoved his bottom lip between them to stop it. He wasn’t in any mood for a lecture on skipping class. Or how he wouldn’t be so tired if he stretched more. Or lifted less. Or didn’t eat so much pizza.

  Juno leaned closer, until their arms were nearly touching, but so casual no one would ever question it. “Kyle, skipping class is a good way to get your ass in trouble.”

  He nearly bit through his lip. Which fucking hurt. That was not what he’d expected to hear. He glanced up, making sure, and yeah, Juno was smiling— just barely, just with the corners of his eyes and lips, invisible to anyone but him. But definitely smiling.

  “It is?”

  “It is. You feel like getting into trouble?”

  He nodded, fumbling to open his locker, knowing if he looked up again, he’d do something to embarrass himself. All he needed to do was nod anyway. All he needed to do was agree, and then get home as fast as fucking possible.

  “Not too tired? I thought you were dying.”

  “I—”

  “Hot damn, who the fuck did that?” Moss demanded, slapping Kyle hard on the back, scaring the hell out of him, turning his response into a surprised yelp. Juno laughed, turning away.

  “Ow!” Kyle reached back and rubbed the spot, scowling. “What?”

  “What?” Moss flicked him hard with his fingers again at the base of his neck. “Someone ate you for dinner, rookie.” He leaned past him, slapping at Juno with his towel. “Dude. Look at this asshole.”

  Juno turned around slowly, like he could barely be bothered, smiling when his eyes landed on his back.

  “Yup,” he agreed. “Someone thinks you taste good.”

  He slid two fingers over Kyle’s shoulder in a touch he was sure looked normal from the outside, but set his insides on fire. Finally, it dawned on him that Juno must have marked him after all, just not where he’d been expecting.

  “Who was it?” Moss asked again, poking at him.

  Kyle hunched his shoulders, twisting away and reaching back, wishing he could feel what they were looking at. “Fuck, would you stop? Nobody.”

  “Nobody doesn’t give hickeys like that.”

  “Your sister does,” somebody said. Eff, maybe. Shit. Suddenly, everyone was looking.

  Moss laughed. “Yeah, right. My sister’s a slut, not a fucking vampire. Somebody tried to take a chunk out of you, dude. You got a groupie?”

  Kyle grinned, despite the voice in his brain that was telling him someone was going to figure it out if he didn’t shut up and put a shirt on. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

  “Don’t let her beat you up too bad. Mackey might put you back in the lineup one day.”

  “I know who it was.” Definitely Eff that time. Kyle blinked hard and tried not to freeze, pretending to ignore them, his fingers fumbling to pull a shirt from the pile in his locker— any shirt, fuck the shower— and yank it back on.

  “Who?” Moss demanded, and Kyle held his breath waiting for Eff to answer.

  “That cheerleader, right? Mandy. The redhead. She’s a biter.”

  He closed his eyes a second, relief shooting through his veins so hard his head spun. Idiot. Of course he didn’t know. How would he know?

  “A biter?” Moss seemed skeptical. “Right. And how would you know that?”

  “You know. You hear things.”

  And then the heat was off him and onto Eff, who everyone knew could never in a million years get a cheerleader, let alone a redhead or a biter.

  “So, you guys wanna go to Okie tonight?” Moss asked, turning his attention back to them, drumming on the door of Kyle’s locker. “See who we can dig up?”

  “Yeah, right. Funny,” Kyle muttered, putting his clothes back on.

  “Don’t keep corrupting him,” Juno said, pulling off his shirt, throwing it in Moss’s direction. “He does fine on his own.”

  Moss ducked, rolling his eyes. “Me? You’re the one that brought him out. Anyway, he lived. Stayed out of jail any everything. Right, 32?”

  “Sure.”

  “See?”

  “You’re an idiot,” Juno told him.

  Moss shrugged. “We going out or what? Sorry, rookie. Grownups only.”

  Juno shook his head. “Forget it. I’m wiped already. Take Hogie.”

  “Doubt that. He’s still puking from this weekend.”

  “So get a date.”

  “Yeah. I stop hanging around you losers, I might. How about you hook me up with one of your groupies, 32?”

  Kyle smirked. “I don’t think they’re your type.”

  “Right. You just don’t want to share.”

  “Not really.”

  “Eh. Fuck you both, then. I’ll get lucky without you.”

  Watching Moss wander off in search of another wingman, Kyle finally started to breathe normally again.

  “You’re such an asshole,” he whispered, staring into his locker, not nearly as good as faking casual as Juno was.

  “That how you
talk to your groupies?”

  He laughed. “Thanks a lot. Now everyone thinks I’m banging a cheerleader.”

  “What a stud.”

  “Shut up.” He paused, smiling. “You marked me?”

  “Damn right I did,” Juno agreed, rubbing his mouth as he spoke.

  “How’s it look?”

  “Pretty fucking bad. You can look at home. After I show you what happens to boys who cut class.”

  Kyle watched him head for the showers for as long as he dared— which wasn’t long— and wondered how the fuck he was supposed to control himself, watching Juno get undressed beside him every day. He could ignore him easy enough on the field, especially with Mackey breathing down his neck— Fucking hell. He still had to meet with Mackey.

  * * *

  “Get the door,” Mackey told him, looking over his shoulder when he walked in. His back was to him, pulling workbooks out of the storage closet, so it didn’t seem like this was going to be a serious meeting. It didn’t seem like he was in trouble. Didn’t matter. Just hearing the door click shut when he pulled it closed was enough to make his mind start working overtime. Everything in Mackey’s office reminded him of being bent over and spanked, cock throbbing in his jock. Fuck. Fuck.

  Kyle watched him for a minute, wondering what he was doing, wondering if he was supposed to offer to help, if it was some kind of test. It probably was. He was probably failing. Finally, he turned back around, dumping a stack of papers on the desk. Christ, he had big arms. No wonder—

  “How are you feeling?” Mackey asked him, dropping into his desk chair, the wheels squeaking the way they always did.

  “Huh? Fine.”

  “They didn’t work you too hard this morning?”

  “I, no, it was okay.”

  “You show up on time?”

  “I guess you’d know if I didn’t.”

  Disbelief was a good word for the look on Mackey’s face. Incredulous was maybe better. “You guess I’d know if you didn’t,” he said slowly, like he was pinching each word to make sure it was real.

  Shit. Fuck. What the hell was it about being in that goddamn office that made his brain go dead and his mouth gear up?

  “I was on time.”

  “Sit down.”

  He sat. So much for not being in trouble.

  “Are you a fucking idiot, Kyle? I don’t think you are, but I feel like I need confirmation from you at this point.”

  He sighed. “No.”

  “You think giving me a smart ass answer when I ask you a simple question is something anyone with half a brain would do?”

  “No. Sorry.”

  “Then I’m just going to assume that you’ve had a long day already, and that was a slip of the tongue. So, let’s try it again, and this time, you give me a decent answer like a human being. Did you show up on time this morning?”

  He swallowed hard, somewhere between punching him in the face and coming in his pants, knowing what Mackey expected him to say. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. I wanted tell you I heard from Miller this morning and Burkett’s hand is fine. You bruised his ego more than anything else, I’m sure.”

  The relief that poured through him was tangible, bringing all the panic he’d stuffed down shooting back up to the surface in a rush, making his skin prickle and he mouth water before it finally burst like a balloon, leaving him sweaty and shaken. He wasn’t getting suspended. He wasn’t going to jail. He hadn’t wrecked anyone’s future. “Oh. God. Thank god.”

  Mackey seemed surprised by his reaction, which Kyle supposed wasn’t a great sign. “Were you worried?”

  “Yeah. I mean, of course. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

  Mackey stared at him, nodding— at what, Kyle wasn’t sure. But it seemed like he believed him, which had to be a good thing. “Most people don’t. But that’s what happens when you act without thinking.”

  “I know.”

  “Just because he isn’t hurt doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

  He nodded. “I get it.”

  Fuck. Why was he getting hard? Over what? Being scolded? He really needed to learn to control this shit.

  “How you like groundskeeping duty?”

  “It sucks,” he said, without thinking. Christ, he couldn’t hold onto a lesson for three fucking seconds.

  But Mackey laughed, catching him by surprise. “Good. Remember that. I’m not in the habit of using it as punishment. You guys get in their way pretty fast.”

  He nodded. Jesus, god, fuck, why did he have to say punishment? And why wouldn’t his cock go down? Did he really have a paddle in his desk? What did it look like? What did it feel like? He had to get out of that fucking office. God, he just wanted to go home. But apparently, Mackey wanted to have a conversation.

  “Have you talked to your parents?”

  “My parents? No. Why?” Fuck. Surely Mackey hadn’t really called his parents.

  “Are they actually coming to see you play? Or was that bullshit?”

  “Oh.” He groaned inwardly, nodding, feeling the quiet panic start to build again. It never seemed to take long these days. “Yeah. They’re coming.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. Soon, I think.” He paused. “They’re coming to see me play. They don’t exactly…”

  “Know you’ve been getting yourself in all kinds of trouble?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So maybe you keep your ass out of trouble from now on.”

  “Yeah. I will. I’m going to.”

  Mackey tilted his head, scratched under his jaw, a move that made Kyle’s toes tap. He knew signs, and he recognized that one from the dugout. It meant Mackey was thinking. Sometimes it meant his name was on his lips, and he was about to say Kelley! and put him in to run. That got him going like nothing else in the world. Fuck, he needed to play.

  “Look, I don’t want to make you look like a fool in front of your parents, okay? I don’t want you on the bench when they show up. So, keep your shit together and I’ll see about working you back into the lineup. Maybe next week.”

  “Next week?” No way. He needed back in now. He was already losing his mind.

  “That too soon for you?”

  “We have a game Wednesday,” Kyle pointed out, pretending he hadn’t even heard the sarcasm.

  “I’m aware.”

  “Am I playing?”

  Mackey snorted. “In two days? Do you think you’re playing?”

  He put a massive amount of effort into not crossing his arms over his chest and swearing. “I guess not.”

  “I told you, you’re not off the hook. You still fucked up, you’re still sitting until I think you’ve learned to behave yourself. So, act like a responsible fucking athlete and I’ll treat you like one.”

  Seriously? Behave himself? His cock was never going to go down again. He sighed, frustrated for a dozen reasons. “Okay.”

  Mackey leaned forward, then back, then forward again, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low enough that Kyle had to lean in to hear him.

  “I want you to understand something. Having Juno vouch for you goes a long way. I don’t know why he’s doing it… I guess I have an idea… but if he says he can keep you in line, I’m willing to trust him. But it doesn’t make you untouchable. I think you’re a good kid, but this is your first year, and you’re already wearing on my patience. So, I don’t care how good you are. If I see you influencing him rather than the other way around, that’s it. You’re gone, end of story. He’s worked too hard, and I don’t have time for any bullshit like that.”

  Kyle nodded, not sure what to say, not even totally sure what Mackey was saying. It seemed like compliments and threats mixed in with things he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t know if it was supposed to make him feel good or bad, and he felt a little of both. Mostly good though, if he was honest, because the part that was sticking was that Mackey thought he was good. Right? He’d said I don’t care how good you are. That meant he thou
ght he was good.

  He waited, not sure if that was all, but not about to leave before Mackey dismissed him. Not about to be a fuck up again and have him yank that feeling back.

  “We understand each other?”

  “Yes, sir,” he agreed, even though he wasn’t sure, just because he wanted to say it.

  “Alright. Go to class, then. And stay out of trouble.”

  He nodded again, even though he had no intention of going to class, and every intention of getting into trouble.

  * * *

  “God, you smell good,” Juno told him, sucking on his neck and grabbing his ass as he shoved him through the bedroom door.

  “Yeah?”

  “Mmm.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you. Take your shirt off.”

  “Take it off me.”

  Juno growled, biting his lips, the top and then the bottom. “You used to listen to me. Didn’t you?”

  “Not really. You just thought I did.”

  “We’re gonna have to do something about that.”

  “First take my shirt off.”

  Juno slid his hands under the thin cotton, skimming his fingers over Kyle’s ribcage as he tugged the shirt upward and off, before kissing hungrily down his chest.

  “Jesus. I should skip class more often.”

  “You might not think that in a minute.”

  Juno shoved him backwards onto the bed, giving him a minute to worm his way into the center before pouncing on him, straddling his waist, grabbing his wrists and pinning him down.

  “Why not?” he asked, struggling just a little, just until Juno held him down harder, squeezed his wrists tighter.

  “Because I spent all practice watching you bend over, and my hand is itching to get at your ass.”

  “Oh, I get it. The whole me skipping school thing is just an excuse to spank me.”

  “You tell me. You’re the one cutting class.”

  Kyle grinned. “I was cutting anyway. But it’s a nice bonus.”

  He lifted his hips to try and buck Juno off him, but he was dead weight on top of him. If he didn’t want to be moved, there wasn’t really any moving him. He wasn’t sure which one of them liked that more.

  “Such a troublemaker.”