Touchdowns: Erotic MM Football Stories by Various Authors

Author:Various Authors [Authors, Various]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Publisher: Ravenous Romance
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Giving Him Fitz

by Suleikha Snyder

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When Nik was generally invited into a room full of sweaty, half-dressed men, it meant a wild Saturday night at the Drive. Not this. This was definitely not his scene. But as one of the premier image consultants in the city—hell, on this coast—it was his job to be unflappable even in the face of the most flap-inducing circumstances, whether that was a starlet's sixth consecutive stint in rehab, or a bunch of burly guys who'd probably started voting Republican in the womb and kicked the shit out of effete little guys like him for fun. Okay, a bunch of burly guys and the quarterback. Quarterbacks and kickers, he'd been told, were built lighter. For grace and speed rather than brute force, like a lineman. What his football guru Tashawn (who liked bears and the Bears) had neglected to mention was that it didn't make them any less imposing to a regular mortal.

Emerson “Fitz” Fitzhugh, Nik's current assignment, was around six-foot-four and built like the proverbial brick house. His shoulders were wide, torso tapered like a Calvin Klein model's, and the hand resting on his locker door was probably big enough to cover both of Nik's. Fitz also radiated a solid Midwestern goodness. As though he rolled up to church every Sunday in a station wagon and never forgot to call his mother. He looked so corn-fed and squeaky clean that they could probably flip him over and use his adorable blond mop to swab the filthy locker room floor.

“I don't understand.” He swiveled to scowl at Gina Morrison, the shark of a publicist who had called him for this job, and Sparky Scott, the assistant head coach. “That man doesn't need an image consultant. He needs to be plastered on recruitment posters. He's perfect.”

“That's the problem,” Sparky (and what kind of name was that anyway?) spat from around the girth of an unlit stogie. “Kid's got no drinking habit. Doesn't party. No girlfriends. No pretty little wife and cute kids like Drew Brees has.” That hot guy who'd led the Saints to the Super Bowl. Nik didn't keep up with sports, but he had been known to follow a pretty face or two. “We can't get Fitz on the cover of Men's Health, much less Sports Illustrated. He's forgettable. Up until someone remember to ask why...if you get my drift.”

In an instant, he did. It was the mother of all cliches. When he wasn't tossing around a pigskin, Mr. Perfect played for the other team. For Nik's team. “You want me to help him play straight.” No. No way in hell. As if to punctuate the distasteful idea, Fitz chose that exact moment to look up. To very, very thoroughly check him out. Nik felt an answering heat flush his body and he suppressed it, keeping the scowl firmly in place as he stared up at ol’ Sparky. Gina piped up with immediate assurances to the contrary—"That's not what this is, Nik, of course not!"—but Nik didn't even spare her a glance.

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