Deep End: A Bad Boy Sports Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

coach how Anchor and Dave stole the Friedman statue…”
    “You did what?” screams the assistant coach. “Why the hell would you tell him that, Spellman? Now he might not let Anchor race during the meet. And we sure as hell need Anchor a lot more than we need you, Spellman. Why didn’t you tell coach that you stole the Freidman statue yourself ? We sure as hell don’t need your ass in the race.”
    There are groans from the swim team. I could tell that they knew they needed this “Anchor” character too, whoever he was.
    “ But, he broke the campus rules,” says Spellman, in an unappealing pleading tone of voice.
    Suddenly there’s a commotion. The swimmers are all laughing at something that’s outside of the pool, on the de ck, but still under where I’m sitting, so I can’t see. They’re lau ghing and hooting and hollering , and looking like they’ve al l just gotten the best gift of their lives.
    “It’s Anchor!” says one swimmer, pointing, as if the others can’t see.
    “He’s got the Freidman statue with him!” says another.
    Suddenly, Anchor is in view, along with his friend Dave.
    At first, I don’t recogni ze them. They’re wearing swim briefs like the rest, and they’re dragging that huge statue from the middle of campus. It looks like they sawed off the bottom of it crudely. They must be strong to be dragging this thing.
    I’m caught up for a moment in admiring this Anchor character, whoever he is. He’s almost compl etely naked in his swim briefs , with the school crest emblazoned on the ass. It ’ s made of tight black material that’s stretched taught across his shapely buttock s . He is incredibly muscular, but not in a bulky body builder kind of way. Instead, it seems like each of his muscles has been used for an actual purpose, rather than just lifting weights over and over again.
    It’s amazing watching his muscles work in unison as he drags the statue to the very edge of the pool.
    His swimmer mates in the pool are still hollering and calling his name, acting like he’s some sort of folk hero. I see the admiration in their eyes, and feel a little bit of it myself, for this Anchor character , despite myself… He is, after all, just a dumb jock who pulled off a dumb and destructive prank.
    Anchor climbs up to the top of the statue like a monkey, his muscles bulging and tensing as he does so. He sure does have a nice body. I feel myself getting excited. I can feel the physical response working deep inside me, causing a warm feeling that I haven’t felt in a long time… It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man. I’ve bee n so busy working for the paper that I’ve completely shut that part of me out of my life . I’ve completely clamped down the sexual part of me. I just hope it doesn’t come tearing out of me when I least expect it.
    Suddenly, in a flash, I recognize him. He’s in exactly the same pose he was in last night when I was walking through campus alone, and that asshole jock started harassing me.
    The warm sexual feeling inside me changes in an instant to anger, pure anger and rage.
    I knew I hated jocks for a good reason. What assholes, accosting me like that.
    “Look at me,” shouts Anchor, before making a spectacular dive off the top of the statue, landing in the pool without so much as a single little splash.
    The whole swim team applauds and whoops, including the assistant coach.
    “I hope they’re letting you race in the meet,” hollers the assistant coach, with a look of expectant adoration on his wide face.
    “Of course,” shouts Anchor. “What would you guys do without Anchor, anyway? Coach knows better than to shut me out like that.”
    What a cock y bastard. Who t alks to themselves in the third person like that? Only someone with a really inflated ego, which this Anchor character clearly has.
    Now I catch a glance of Anchor’s friend Dave, who is quietly sliding into the pool, without much fan fair at all. He looks exhausted from