2 Works in Jack Sinclair
“I know lifting's a bad idea but I’m feeling.” Shame twisted up in Billy’s gut, and he toyed at his lasagna with his fork. “I don’t feel as. I don’t know. Confident.” His muscle mass was not as bulky as it used to be -- his abs and biceps just a shadow of what they once were. He had a soft little belly now. And then there were the scars. Dark pink floral patterns of scars all wound over his back, sides, and abdomen.
Suddenly the thought of shirtless summer weather struck dread in his heart. For now, long-sleeved henleys and sweatshirts provided the perfect way for him to hide. It was literally the only time he’d been thankful for winter.
“Hey,” Harrington said from across the table. He paused until Billy looked up to his eyes. His tone grew delicate and serious. “I’m not fucking around, okay? You. Look. Good.”
And the way that Harrington looked at him -- brown eyes soft, his gaze lingering on Billy’s face. On his eyes. Well, maybe he meant it.
“Yeah?” Billy asked. He felt his face heating. “You think so?”
Harrington took the last bite of his lasagna. “Definitely.”
The six Jacks of St Kilda Football Club - Billings, Lonie, Newnes, Sinclair, Steele and Steven - take a boy's road trip to Wollongong for the off-season. When a random conversation leads to a question over who would last the longest in bed, they decide to take it upon themselves to figure out who would win. Only problem is, they never figured out a punishment for the loser - he who comes first. Several alcoholic beverages later, and they come up with a worthy punishment: a come shower for the loser. If only they knew a come shower would be just the beginning.
Or: six St Kilda hotties have an orgy on the rooftop terrace on a summer's day