Page 77 of Jackrabbit

Colt’s breaths were coming quicker now, his movements desperate. He whined when Beau bit down on the mark, and Beau moved his hand from Colt’s throat to his mouth. “Quiet. You want someone to hear you?”

A wet tongue slipped between his fingers, and Beau had to close his eyes for a long second, his mouth still pressed against that pathetic hickey. “You do, don't you?” he asked when he'd gotten ahold of himself. Colt's noise was muffled behind Beau's hand, but it was clear. “Christ. You are a slut. A pretty, pretty slut. Are you wet for me, Colt? I bet you are. Desperate, leaking in the jeans you were wearing when you rubbed against some stranger last night.”

He fit his mouth around the mark and sucked, licked, and bit, and ground his thigh up as Colt writhed. When he was done with it, there was no evidence that another man had touched Colt at all, and satisfaction simmered in Beau’s gut. He licked his mark again, tasted the clean salt against Colt’s pulse. “Come on, Colt. Be a good boy and come for me. Show me how much you want it.”

The punched-out, needy moan behind Beau’s hand was stunning. Desperate, desperate boy. For him. Not for some other man. For Beau.

“That’s it,” Beau groaned against Colt’s ear. “Just like that. Take what you need like a good slut. My good boy.”

Colt cried out and bit down on Beau's palm to keep quiet, his body jerking against Beau’s thigh as he came with a full-body shudder. Wet heat spread between them, and Beau pressed his thumb into the dark, spreading bruise on Colt’s throat.

“Holy fucking shit,” Colt husked as Beau pushed him through the aftershocks with short, insistent rocks of his thigh. “Jesus, Beau. I think I just saw God.”

Beautiful.

Colt’s eyelids slipped briefly closed. Completely fucked out without a single hand on him.

God, I want to ruin you.

The thought landed like a slap.

Fuck. He had to stop. Right now.

Beau made sure Colt was stable on his perch at the edge of Beau’s desk before he stepped away from all that warmth and picked up the coveralls. He could not look at him—couldn’t stand to see that glazed, pleased expression or the growing stain across the front of his jeans.

“Here.” He held the coveralls out for Colt to step into. “You can’t go out like that.”

“Beau, what about you?” Colt asked. He slipped his booted foot up the inside of Beau’s thigh. “I'mverygood with my hands. Though, I'll be honest, I'd much rather choke on—”

Beau grabbed Colt’s ankle and stopped him just before the toes of his boot reached the hard line of Beau's aching cock trapped along his thigh. He gently set the foot back down. “No. This wasn't about me.”

It was a load of absolute bullshit he could hardly feed himself, and he knew Colt wouldn't buy it either.

Ruin you.

But Colt was subdued, none of that snapping, snarling frustration from the night before. Beau looked up to find him watching Beau with a smile that was… sad, maybe.

“Yeah,” Colt said as he moved to offer his foot for the coveralls. “Yeah, okay.”

“You go home, alright?” Beau guided his legs into the clothes. “You should shower. Sleep. Got track time tomorrow before the Wednesday race.”

Colt was compliant as Beau put him together, standing and letting Beau zip him up to the throat so the hickey was covered. But when Beau went to pull away, Colt grabbed his hands and held them at his collar until Beau looked at him again.

“Beau, I can see you're way deep in that big brain of yours.” His smile was less sad, now, but nowhere near the dimpled grin Beau was used to. “Look, I can't change your mind about how badly I want this, or how ridiculous you are for feeling like I'm some blushing virgin.”

Beau scoffed, and Colt’s smile spread to his eyes. “Yeah. So,sooff base.” He shook his head and stepped closer. “All I can tell you is that I don't regret what just happened. Dead certain you're already doing that enough for the both of us. But me? This provided me with at least a week's worth of spank bank material.”

“A week, huh?”

“Yup.” Colt squeezed his hands and let go. He slid around Beau to the door and turned to smile at him one more time, one dimple popping up on the left side. “You'll just have to decide to provide me with more material by then. Who knows what I'll get up to if you don't.”

Then he left, gently shutting the door behind him. Beau sat back against the desk and pressed his palm into the base of his cock. Still hard. Still wanting. The room smelled like sex and a stranger’s cologne, and Beau could still feel the pressure of Colt’s desperation. He shouldn’t do this again. Absolutely should not.

But as he stood and ran a hand through his hair, he knew he would anyway.

Chapter 39

“Wednesday races are lit,” Xavier said, craning his neck to watch the top of the stands fill. It had been a clear day, and the nights were finally starting to cool, so more people than ever were out for race day. “You see that girl up there? The one with the checkered shorts.”