Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Shit. I thrust into my fist, racing him to the finish line, desperate to reach that moment, that high, before he works out I’m jerking off over him. It barely took me two pathetic weeks to reach this point. I’m a desperate, horny idiot, but when Oskar cries out, “Lane,” I’m powerless not to follow. My balls pull tight, and the pressure in my cock builds to an unbearable level and then finally releases. I’m barely coherent enough to catch my cum as I shoot. Spurt after spurt, I unleash, and when I finally relax back into the bed, I only have a second to get my head on straight.
I jump up and tuck myself away with my clean hand while I grab a wad of tissues to clean up the mess.
From in the bathroom, I hear Oskar redressing, and I throw myself back onto the bed, grab my phone, and will my heart rate to steady as Oskar opens the door.
He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.
“Adequate performance,” I say, heart still drumming a quick, dull beat in my ears. “I’d say a solid five out of ten for vocals.”
“Is that your way of asking me to be louder next time?”
I pretend like I couldn’t care less, but it’ll be a long time before I forget the way my name sounded as he came. “Whatever gets you going.” My attention is fixed on my screen, so I have no idea how he took that, but I’m too scared to check. In the heat of the moment, that seemed like a perfect idea, but if Oskar had walked out and found me with my cock in my hand, that’s the kind of shit he could use to get me fired.
Sure, Oskar likes to stir and flirt and doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to blink twice at witnessing sex. But if it’s a choice between having a babysitter and having me fired for inappropriate behavior, I can’t trust that he wouldn’t go there. It would be an easy out for him, and I’d be handing him the ammunition.
I’ve been used by young, fun things before. I’ve gotten in way over my head. I know what it’s like to be hurt by guys exactly like Oskar Voyjik. I can’t let myself go there. Ever.
No pretty face is worth that kind of pain.
I force down a long inhale and remind myself that I got lucky this time. That was a risky game, and while I might like to play, I can’t play with him.
No more letting my cock take the wheel.
EIGHT
OSKAR
I can’t tell, but I swear Lane’s face is flushed. His cheeks are practically glowing in the low light. His chest rises and falls faster than normal, but I wouldn’t say he’s panting. I could say it looks like he’s trying to cover up that he’s out of breath. I have my suspicions about why—okay, maybe it’s more a hopeful wish—but I haven’t decided how to play this yet.
“Are you okay? You look … hot.”
“You just got off, and now you’re hitting on me again? Do you have an off switch?”
I laugh. “I was actually worried about your welfare. And mine. Do you have a fever? Are you sick?” I approach and go to touch his forehead with the back of my hand, but he swats it away.
And when his eyes meet mine, it’s a fight not to let my amusement show.
He totally jerked off.
“How did you like my show?” I taunt.
“Like I said, I’m doing whatever it takes to protect the team’s image. If that means listening to you make god-awful noises that are so fake and over-the-top, then I will have to endure it.”
“Mm. Endure it. Sure.”
Yet, the next night when we arrive in Pittsburgh and I repeat some self-love in the bathroom under the watchful eye of Lane, I say his name even louder when I come and don’t even catch my breath before I open the door, trying to catch him in the act.
The fucker has noise-canceling headphones on.
He points to them. “Picked these up at the airport today. Smart, huh?”
“Why are you the ruiner of fun?”
Lane lifts one headphone away from his ear. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” I mutter.
“Do you think you’re loose enough for the game tomorrow now?”
I hope it’s enough. “Only one way to find out.”
I have to admit that while not the best release I’ve had, I do feel more relaxed compared to when I was only using my hand to get me off. It’s not my fault I have a high sex drive—I was born that way. And it’s not like a sex addiction or anything like that—despite what the tabloids say about me.
I like sex, and I like a lot of it. That’s all there is. There’s no story here.
But if I can’t turn around my game tomorrow, I’m not sure I’ll be able to convince Lane of that, and then I’ll have him on my ass—but not in my ass because noooo, that’s not allowed for some stupid reason—for a lot longer than he needs to be.