“I agree. That’s why I think you should teach Hayden what he doesn’t know.”
The smug smile Ialmostcracked disappears before it can settle on my face. “Excuse me?”
“I’d like you to give him a lesson. Tomorrow, after you’re done with Max.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all. I think you’re onto something about the director needing some basic knowledge of all the options, and who better to teach him than one of his own instructors?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose to fend off the growing headache. “Is this another threat against my probation? Teach him or else?”
“No, it’s a request for your help to make the program and the people involved with it even better.”
“He’s a grown-ass man—he’s not going to be as easy to teach as a little kid.” I’ve never taught an adult to ride, but I’ve seen other people attempt it, and it’s not pretty. When tall people go down, they go down hard, and even though Frosty drives me crazy most of the time, I don’t want to see him get hurt. Especially since he’d probably accuse me of trying to hurt him on purpose.
Don’t even get me started on the fact I’ll most likely have to touch him to get him in the right position, and I don’t need that mind fuck. It’s bad enough there are times I’ve caught myself looking at himwithout contempt, even enjoying some of our verbal sparring. The one thing I’ve yet to do is actually touch the guy, after I accidentally brushed up against him behind the rental counter, which my cock still remembers all too well. I’ve very deliberately avoided all physical contact ever since then, so my dick has remained predictably limp. My theory is it'll stay that way as long as I don’t touch Frosty again, and I’d rather not test that theory in full view of everyone else on the hill, where the only thing that might spare me an awkward revelation is the frigid temperatures.
“I’m not expecting you to make him a pro, just show him what it’s about. Help him understand the mechanics so he follows the reasoning behind the statements you make.”
Carter can’t see the deep breaths I’m taking and fills the silence when I don’t speak. “Just one lesson. You probably won’t have time for more than that before your hours are completed.”
That little glimmer of light takes some of the tension off my shoulders. “One lesson,” I agree. Then I end the call.
***
“Put these on, Frosty.” I thrust the spandex shorts at him when I come to get him for our lesson.
Pinching them hesitantly between his thumb and forefinger, he holds them away from his body, crinkling his nose. It’s cute—not sexy—so I’m not sure why that makes my cock stir. I keep the scowl on my face so he can’t tell that part of me is entertained.
“Bike shorts?” His brows pull together as he looks at me.
“Paddedbike shorts. So your icy little ass won't break when it hits the hill. They'll cushion the blow."
“These are…yours?”He grimaces, looking at the tag that’s clearly not his size. “You wear these?”
“Don’t worry, they’re clean.”Maybe it’s the idea of him wearing something that’s been flush against my skin that has my junk coming to life. Didn’t realize I had that kink, but whatever.“You’re welcome. Now, let’s go.”
I turn around while Hayden dresses, ignoring the tiny grunts that pass through his lips as he tries to pull the snug-fitting shorts into place. The noises aren’t meant to be sexual, but my dick doesn’t get that memo, which has my mind conjuring all sorts of images about how it could force those grunts from his throat. On top of that, the shorts I lent him make his ass look round and full in his fitted snow pants, which has the undesired effect of making mine feel a little tight.
This is not how, or where, or with who, I wanted to definitively answer the question of whether my cock would ever work again. The fact itdoeswork should make me happy, but… Frosty?
My body gives an involuntary shiver, which I’m attributing to the cold and not arousal as I try to push the mental images of his pert, round ass out of my mind and focus on the task at hand.
“Strap your front foot in here,” I instruct, dropping my board to the ground and lining my foot up to the binding.
“Which is that?” He watches, making no move to mimic my actions.
“The one that goes in front.” I bend over to strap in so he can’t see my eye roll.
“Obviously.” He sighs, “But how do I know which one goes in front?”
Jesus help me.With a deep breath I unclip from the board and rise back to my full height. “Do you trust me?”
“Do Ihave a choice?”
“Not really.” I take the board from his hands and set it on the ground, then position him in front of me with his back to my front. Making no effort to hide the grin he can’t see, I give him a firm shove. His right foot darts out to stop him from face-planting on the snow.
“What the hell was that?” He reels around, arms flying in the air. “You ask me to trust you thenpush?What kind of…”
