DESPITE it straying from his typical gym uniform, Adam wore compression shorts under a looser-fitting pair. The same look he’d adopted for his evening workouts whenever Bo joined him. It didn’t stop him from getting hard-ons, but it kept them somewhat under control. More so than they’d be without the tight fabric in place, at least.
The ride to the gym had been pure torture. He’d driven, which left Bo free to do as he pleased. Something that had never been an issue before but proved a rather large one now that the promise of sex loomed between them. Bo’s hands and mouth had tormented Adam with nips, licks, and strokes that damn near undid him.
By the time they’d pulled into the parking lot, Adam was so revved up he almost gave in when Bo begged to wrap those gorgeous lips around his cock and finish him off.
But he’d refused. He’d held his ground. After kissing Bo brainless—an easy feat, considering he’d gotten himself just as worked up—Adam eased him away. One look at Bo’s kiss-swollen lips and lust-drunk eyes was all the reminder Adam had needed.
After two fucking months of abstinence and longing, he was going to take his time with Bo. He was going to explore every inch of his skin with his hands, then retrace those steps with his lips and tongue. Bo would be writhing and pleading for release before Adam even considered seeking that welcoming heat and making the man his.
It had taken an excessive amount of time—and a great deal of internal distraction in the form of chanting boring statistics—before Adam could exit the vehicle and enter the gym. And now, with the most strenuous part of his routine out of the way, his distraction level was increasing.
Bo sat on a rickety folding chair in the corner of the gym out of Adam’s line of sight. Keeping him at a distance had been necessary after Adam’s focus proved iffy when their gazes kept meeting. The sexual tension hung thick and heavy between them, even without the constant eye contact. It served as a relentless diversion from the task at hand.
Not that he’d go back and change his mind about inviting Bo. He’d seemed thrilled by the request, and having him there—while distracting—also proved motivating. Who wanted to look like a weakass pansy in front of the man they hoped to bed? Certainly not him.
Adam slipped through the springy tape-covered ropes of the training ring. His head coach, Eddie Vasquez, waited for him in the corner beside Kyle, who’d shown up a few minutes prior with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I see Little Bo Peep is in the house.” Kyle chortled when Adam slammed a gloved fist into his opposite palm and glared him down. “Still on edge, I see. Haven’t gotten laid yet, or did it fail to live up to expectations?”
Adam spit out his mouthguard and charged Kyle, pinning him into the padded corner. “Don’t fuckin’ talk about him like that.”
Eddie placed a hand on Adam’s bare chest and shoved. Not enough to make Adam move but enough to get his attention. “Save it for the ring, son.”
“I’m already in the damn ring.” Adam gave the ropes a shake but stepped clear of Kyle’s personal space. “Don’t say shit to Bo. If you hurt him, I’ll pound your ass into dust.”
And he would too. Fuck his manager. He was a few short months away from not needing one, anyway. Maybe. Depending on how training went. Either way, if Kyle even thought about saying something that made Bo uncomfortable, he’d be worm food.
Kyle’s eyes glistened with mirth. “You know I’m only fucking with you. I want you two to get together. You’re a miserably lonely son of a bitch, and he’s perfect for you, if you’d open your damn eyes and look. That’s why I picked the guy.”
Adam cut his gaze to where Bo sat on the edge of his seat. His brows popped over the top of his glasses, and his knuckles blanched under the pressure as he fisted his hands in his lap. He offered a hopeful half smile when he caught Adam looking.
Normally, Adam didn’t break character at the gym, and the Beast never smiled. But it was damn near impossible not to grin back, especially when Bo’s shoulders relaxed and he beamed in return.
A heavy hand pounded Adam on the back. When he shifted his gaze to glower at Kyle, Kyle guffawed. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. I knew that kid would be good for you. He’s even got your sour ass smiling ’n shit.”
Eddie handed Adam his mouthguard and gave Kyle a “get lost” scowl. When Kyle obliged and hopped from the ring, Eddie squeezed Adam’s shoulder. “All Kyle’s shit aside, I’ll admit I’ve noticed a change in you lately. I’m happy for you, but don’t let it get in your way, whatever it is. It’s crunch time, son. If you wanna keep your title, you gotta focus. There’s no room for distractions, you feel me?”
Across the ring, Adam’s sparring partner for the day slipped under the ropes. They exchanged nods before Adam shook Eddie’s hand free of his shoulder. He pounded his fists together at the knuckles. “I feel you, coach. Don’t worry. I’m focused—110 percent.”
Eddie gave a salute and exited the ropes. Adam shifted his attention to the wall of early-twenties muscle bouncing on his toes and jabbing at the air in the opposite corner.
His mentor had it right. He damn well better be focused and on his A game. Not only did he put himself at risk if his concentration wasn’t solid during a fight, he also jeopardized his career.
Rather than glancing at Bo to offer a wink of acknowledgment before the fight began, Adam kept his sights on his opponent. They entered the center of the ring, touched gloves, and it was game on.
Bo would get every ounce of Adam’s devotion later, but for now, the Beast had work to do.
“I’M fine. I swear.” Adam swatted at the ice pack Bo kept trying to press against his cheekbone. “I’ve suffered plenty worse. Hell, you’ve seen me a hundred times more fucked-up than this. I was fine then, and I’m fine now. Promise.”
Bo looked anything but convinced. He bit his lip and bounced on the balls of his feet, clutching at the towel-covered bag of ice with both hands, his eyes glued to the swollen gash beneath Adam’s left eye.
It was true. He was fine. Granted, he’d been clocked good, but that wasn’t anything new.
Still, the whole ordeal had shaken Bo. He’d appeared on edge before the match even started, but by the time it was over, he was wide-eyed and ashen-faced. During the drive home, he’d sat huddled against the passenger door as if he were terrified to touch Adam. And now? All he wanted to do was shove painkillers down Adam’s throat and hold ice over his injuries.
Just fuckin’ great. So much for the afternoon of hot, steamy passion he’d had planned. Bo was too worried about mothering Adam to consider taking him to bed.
“How about a bath?” Bo scrunched his brows until they hid behind the thick upper frame of his glasses. “A hot bath might feel good. I can draw you one. I even have a lavender-and-chamomile bath bomb. It’ll relax you.”
Adam didn’t want to relax. He wanted to get Bo naked and…. A thought niggled its way into his brain, and he grinned. “A bath sounds great.”
“Yeah?” Bo’s eyes lit up. He stopped bouncing and beamed. “Okay. How hot do you want it?”
“I don’t take many baths. Make it however hot you like it.” Adam accepted the ice when Bo passed it over. He held the freezing pack to his cheek. “I’ll keep this here while you do your thing.”
“Okay. Yeah. Perfect. I’ll come get you when it’s ready.” Bo scurried toward the stairs, tripped over his feet halfway up, face-planted, then shot Adam a thumbs-up as he clambered upright. “I’m good. Sorry. Be just a minute.”
Bo’s clumsy eagerness had always been one of Adam’s favorite parts about the man. But in that moment, it did something unexpected to his heart. It twisted, thumped, and plummeted to his stomach.
There was little doubt the physical closeness Adam craved from Bo went beyond mere lust. Sure, he was horny as hell for Bo, but that wasn’t all there was. Something Adam had never felt toward another brewed beneath the surface, taunting and teasing even as it promised both heartache and wonder.
He wasn’t in love with Bo. At least, he didn’t think he was. Love wasn’t something he was well versed in, yet he was savvy enough to know it didn’t happen overnight. Nor did it happen in two months. Especially not when they hadn’t even slept together during that time. Love only happened when two people were physical and intimate. It required a commitment. A guy couldn’t fall in love with his friend. That’s not how it worked.
Right?
Adam scowled as he traipsed up the stairs. He found Bo in his bathroom, crouched by the tub and swirling his hand in the steaming bath. The jets were on, and fizzy bubbles that smelled as Bo promised—of lavender and chamomile—drifted over the surface of the water. Bo turned when Adam’s gym shoes squeaked on the tile.
“Oh, I was going to come get you. It’s still filling.”
“I think it’s full enough.” Adam set his ice on the counter and yanked his T-shirt over his head. He’d already showered at the gym, but a bath didn’t sound half-bad. The soothing aroma was already doing its job. Too bad sleep and relaxation were smack dab at the bottom of his to-do list.
Bo swallowed and jerked to a standing position. His eyes cut to Adam’s bare chest, flitted down his belly, and hovered over his crotch. That penetrating gaze was all Adam’s dick needed to signal it was time to party. It throbbed, and Bo’s teeth slammed together with a snap of his jaw.
Adam hid a grin as he reached around Bo and shut off the water. He made sure to press his body against Bo’s and relished the high-pitched whimper that met his ear. Without stepping away, he curled an arm around Bo’s waist and held them flush. “There’s plenty of room for two.”
“Oh God.” Bo snaked his arms up Adam’s back and placed his hands over his shoulder blades. “Are you sure? That guy hit you hard. If you need—”
Adam tipped Bo’s chin and used his lips to halt his protest. Bo opened for him, and their tongues met in a languid dance. He didn’t pull back until Bo had melted in his arms. “All I need is you.”