Jax Calder

He’d been my go-to jerk off fantasy since I’d discovered that hand plus cock equaled a whole lot of fun.

My stuff brushing up against Aiden Jones’s stuff. Yeah, it got me half-hard just thinking about it. Being jealous of a pair of shoes was a new low for me.

I’d told Jones I didn’t do stupid shit.
But I was fairly sure that crushing on my roommate at New Zealand training camp, the same guy whose starting role I was after, was the definition of stupid shit.

Yep, I wanted to be a New Zealand rugby player, and I wanted to do a New Zealand rugby player. I was a complex guy.

Aiden Jones with his mouth wrapped around me. Proof that what you dreamed about every night as a teenager could actually happen. Not sure if I should include this example in my usual speech I gave to high school kids, though.

Making Aiden smile and laugh always made me feel more heroic than Hercules.

“You know, my mum used to make me pancakes in lots of different shapes, like Mickey Mouse’s head and stuff,” Tyler said.
I flipped the pancake onto a plate and handed it to him. “Here. This one’s the shape of a ball.”
His eyes lit up, as they always did when I made a joke. “Well, thank you. You know how much I like balls.”

“Is that supposed to be a dick?”
“I was actually going for the Eiffel Tower. Thought I’d introduce a touch of class into our breakfast.”
Tyler grinned as he shook his head at me. “You totally made me a dick pancake. I think it’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I wish I could do something to take away your pain,” he said in a low voice.
“You do. Just by being you.” I’d never spoken truer words.
His eyebrows shot up. Then he dropped his hand from my thigh, looking away. “So, I’m a painkiller now. Paracetamol or ibuprofen?”
I adopted a lighthearted tone. “I’m not sure. Which one has the nausea side effects?”

His man. Holy hell, I loved being Aiden’s man more than I loved anything on the planet.