He takes a step toward me, setting his duffel bag on the ground.
“I didn’t take your stuff. You’re here because you want to get on your knees and suck my cock, aren’t you?”
“Hell no.”
My cheeks burn, and I feel a slight tremble in my hands, but I’m not scared. Fuck, I’m really not.
He bites his bottom lip as he comes to a stop before me. His eyes flick to my mouth, and then he sighs happily, pulling me into him and slanting his mouth over mine. I don’t mean to, but I groan into it. This kiss. This fucking kiss. Why is it so good? Why is it bordering on the best fucking kiss of my life?
He seems to know this because his tongue pushes inside, and I can do nothing but hold on and let him take what he wants. Just like he did with my coin, with my jockstrap. My cum. What will he take from me this time?
I pull away, and he presses his forehead against mine.
“Take it off. All of it.”
“Hell no,” I breathe as his hands ruck up my shirt, his fingers lingering on my skin. It’s blazing, so fucking warm.
“Off.”
“No.”
He still manages to wrangle my shirt off my head, tossing it onto the floor. His eyes take in my broad shoulders and muscular chest.
“You sure are something,” he says lowly. “Fucking rugby.”
I shift on my feet as he drags his hands down my stomach to the waistband of my shorts.
“Off.”
“You know any other words?”
“Please.”
His eyes blink up at me, and I shudder at how hot he is. He’s the embodiment of sex.
Damnit. Maybe Ishouldfly those Pride flags in my window.
“No.” It’s weak, almost a whisper. But he hears it. He knows it. His hands shuck them off easily, leaving me completely bare.
I’m standing in Colton’s bedroom—naked.
He reaches around me, his body nudging mine as he does, and a moment later, he returns with the jersey, his head cocked in amusement as he tugs it over my head. I don’t even resist.
“Mm, knew it would fit you.” His murmur settles somewhere in my groin, making me shift nervously.
I’m not getting on my knees for this guy. I’m not. Fuck that.
Instead, my hands go through the holes in the jersey, and he slips it down, leaving me with my cock erect and pressed out from my body right below his shirt.
“I’m gonna take a pic.”
I shake my head, but he’s already pulling his phone out and snapping one. I flinch as he takes another.
“Turn around, ass out. I wanna see my name.”
My jaw clenches, and I don’t move. It’s only when he easily maneuvers me toward the bed, my hands landing on the mattress, my bare ass exposed, that I realize it would have been better for my pride if I’d just done this photoshoot myself.
“I want you to delete those,” I say, standing up again and turning to face him.
