Gay for the Hot Jock Part 1

By Lucas Loveless

Jackson

As a writer for the Kensington University newspaper, I have to do my job, even if that means getting the scoop on the university jerk jock, Xander. I knew that Xander was muscular and hot as hell - all of the rumors at school told me that. What I didn't know was that there was much more to him. I knew I would be getting a story about the school's hottest jock. I just didn't know I would start falling for him.
Xander likes to tease me. He flirts. When no one is looking, he'll grab me and kiss me. It seems he's starting to fall fast for me, too, but he has his guards up. No one knows he's gay. No one knows he likes to get naked with a nerd like me and do things that make us both hot, sweaty and spent.
I think I was starting to fall for this jock, but what was going to happen?

Xander

I had everything worked out. I was the star powerlifter at Kensington University. I was big, strong, and hot as hell. All the girls wanted me. All the guys looked up to me. Everything was perfect, but something felt always missing.
That something came along in the form of the cutest, sexiest nerd I had ever laid eyes on. Jackson. He was writing for the newspaper, and I was his next story. I thought it would be a quick interview and then I would send him on his way. But we wanted each other too badly.
Jackson made me feel alive, and horny. When I put my hands on his naked body I felt like I was on fire. It was our secret, that we were starting to hook up. Jackson was going to threaten all of the guards I had put up, and nothing would be the same.

This is part one of a two part story. It contains explicit scenes of gay romance, gay sex and gay erotica. It is intended for mature readers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lucas Loveless
• Release date: Apr 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463167878

Book preview

Part 1

Written by Lucas Loveless

ONE

XANDER

Sweat drips down my forehead. I grit my teeth and tighten my entire body. I brace myself, hands on the bar, ready to power lift all this weight. It's nearly three hundred pounds. But I'm a tough son of a bitch. Hell, I'm 22 and I can lift more than some of the pros. I go down, feeling the heavy weight on my shoulders, and I hear my coach behind me, yelling and screaming that I can get this bar back up. I use all my strength. I get it back onto the rack. 

Fuck yes! I holler, not giving a damn who hears me curse in this gym. 

Coach Daniels pats me on the back. You did great buddy.

I take a deep breath and wear a wide smile. Thanks, Coach. It feels great. Think I'll place at the competition this weekend? 

I know you will. 

Coach smiles at me. He puts his hand on my shoulder. I know you will, son. 

I'm drenched in sweat as I strip off my clingy shirt and throw it over my shoulder. I'm a big guy, muscles bulging, body hair finally coming in. I rub the back of my head, feeling the wet buzz cut of hair on my head. I rub the back of my neck. I make my way to the back of the gym and towards the locker rooms. 

That's when a stranger's voice calls my name. Xander? Xander McMichael? 

I stop and turn around. I catch the sight of a trimmed, fit young guy approaching me. He wears a purple sweater that's tight on him, especially around his little waist. He has on skinny jeans, but they don't do anything to flatten his little bubble butt. 

I groan under my breath because I feel like this is the kind of douche bag hipster from the liberal arts department who's going to tell me how bad I am for participating in weightlifting. I can hear it now. Do you think weightlifting supports the patriarchy? I'm ready to tell this guy to fuck off, already. 

What do you want? I growl. 

Sorry, I don't mean to bother you. He fumbles with glasses for a second. He's nervous. I can hear it in his voice and the see it in the way he stutters. He has freckles near his nose, and his hair is curly and short. It's brown like the leaves on autumn. 

He's kind of pretty, I think for a moment. I bite my lip, looking this skinny weirdo up and down. Nice lips, a nice waist... Holy fuck what am I doing?! Checking out another guy? I'm not gay! 

Dude, I bark at him. What do you want? 

I'm writing an expose on a sports star on campus. And I want to write about you. 

I cock my head and raise one eyebrow. You think I'm a sports star? 

He gulps, and he puts his glasses back on. They hide the beauty of his hazel eyes. He nods his head. Xander, you're probably the greatest lifter in the history of Kensington University. You're a, amazing. I mean, I think so. And so do a lot of other people. And with all the rumors and stuff. 

I approach this handsome dweeb. I corner him against the hallway wall and put my hand up near him on the wall. What do you mean, rumors? I growl. I get a little closer, chest puffed, arms flexed. Now that I'm this close, my nostrils swell with the scent of him. 

This guy wears a cologne that makes me want to lick him, or maybe it's his natural scent, a kind of masculine musk. Whatever it is, I've never smelt it on another man before. I've never wanted to breathe in another man's scent like this, deep, until it gets me high. 

You know, he stammers. "The rumors about, like the steroids and