Broken Rules, Wet sheets

Story 3.

Mike's POV 

"Hey! Mike, are you good?" Ezekiel called out, running towards me with a bottle of water.

"Yeah, man. I'm good." I raised my voice so he could hear. 

The sun dipped low over the empty field, stretching shadows across the dusty earth as Ezekiel and I geared up for tournament practice. 

Days away from the big event, and we were doing all we could in order to nail our routine.

He reached the garage in split seconds, passing me the water.

"Thanks man." I patted him as he headed to finish up with the brakes in his bike.

"Are the brakes good now?" I asked.

"Yes, it's almost done. He answered, squinting his eyes as he bolted the last screw.

I wiped the grease off my hands with an old rag, stealing another glance at Ezekiel. He was bent over his bike, muscles shifting under that tight black tee, his broad shoulders looking even wider in the dim garage light. 

God, he was gorgeous-tall, tight jaw, and with that face that could make anyone weak. Girls lined up just to say "Hi" to him but apparently he's too focused on being a biker.

 We used to be so close. Now everything felt like tournament prep and nothing else.

"You know," I said quietly, stepping closer, "we used to do this shit together all the time. Just you and me, before the club got so damn competitive."

Ezekiel straightened up slowly, towering over me. A smirk pulled at his lips as he looked down. "Yeah? You miss those days, shortstack?"

My cheeks heated instantly. I hated how that nickname made my stomach flip, especially tonight. The urge was stronger. 

I pretended to check the spark plug he was working on, but really I just wanted to be near him.

"Don't call me that," I muttered, though my voice came out softer than I meant. "And yeah... maybe I do. Things felt simpler back then. Safer too."

He turned fully toward me, wiping his hands on a rag. His deep voice dropped, rough around the edges. "Safer, huh?" Those intense eyes locked onto mine. "You still feel that way when I'm around?"

I swallowed hard, looking up at him. Even at 5'2", I never felt small in a bad way when he was this close.

 I nodded slowly. "Always. Doesn't matter how tall or scary you look... when you're next to me, I just... breathe easier."

"You know, this sport can be filled with violence and aggressiveness most of the time, but you've always had my back," I said slowly. "Hey! Don't you dare blush," I added quickly.

Ezekiel let out a low chuckle and stepped right into my space until our bodies were almost touching. The heat coming off his broad chest made my pulse race. 

"Good. 'Cause I like knowing that." His gaze traced my face, lingering on my lips. "You've been looking at me differently lately, Mike. Like you're waiting for something."

My breath caught. I didn't move away. I couldn't. Not because I was stuck but because his scent smelled sweet and I wanted to inhale more of him. 

"Maybe I... I think I want something," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. 

"We've been so busy with this tournament... barely had time to just... be close like before."

His large hand came up, gripping my shoulder gently, his thumb brushing the side of my neck. The touch sent a shiver through me.

 "Then let's make time tonight. The tournament can wait a few hours." His voice grew darker, hungrier.

 "Tell me what you really want right now, Mike. No bullshit." His dark eyes were so serious, patiently waiting for my wish.

"This!" I pointed at the tandem bike close to us. Let's have some fun, it's been so long Ezekiel. I sounded excited like a kid about to ride merry go round.

"Hey, let's shake off the rust before we rev up," I said, grinning as I nodded at the old tandem bike leaning against the fence. It was this dusty throwback from some team thing, but it looked rideable.

 "For kicks. I'll lead from the front-bet I can smoke you. Alternative thigh exercises, you grab?"

He laughed, that deep rumble hitting me low in the gut. 

"Deal, shortstack." 

I rolled my eyes like a girl.

We hopped on, me up front in the lead seat, my smaller build slotting in easily. 

Ezekiel settled behind, his long legs caging mine, thighs brushing close as he grabbed the back bars. The start was clumsy, us chuckling through the wobbles, but we synced up quickly, pedals pumping together.

Our backs were slightly arched and our hips hinged up just like professionals.

At first I felt a slight touch on my balls, might be the air. I thought.

Then I felt it again.

The nearness slammed into me first-his chest hovering near my back, our body heat blending with the warm air. 

"You free styling, it feels nice huh?" I giggled.

He chuckled too.

But then I felt it: a subtle shift, and something hard nudged against my ass with each push of the pedals. 

I hitched. I felt Ezekiel's cock, stirring to life right there, pressing through his silk shorts. I didn't move away. 

Heat flooded my face, and I arched my back more, making the rub more direct. It was electric, his hips rolling forward in rhythm, and that bulge growing firm and insistent.

We didn't say a word. Just our breaths getting rougher, and the chain squeaking under the strain. We both struggled to control ourselves.

My heart raced-what were we doing? Friends like us? But I couldn't stop, leaning into the grind, feeling him throb against me.

 Every bump in the ground sent a jolt through us both, his erection straining full now, hot and unyielding. I started to imagine the damp spot forming, his pre-cum leaking as he fought to keep control. My own dick twitched in response, arousal coiling tight in my belly.

Deep down in me, I knew the day wasn't going to end like this- there was more to come. More to enjoy.