I can feel his eyes on me, and I quickly grab my towel and wrap it around my waist. When I leave the showers, I slap a few hands and quickly make my way to the far end of the locker room, to the hidden little corner where Colton first kissed me.
I hear his voice chatting happily with a few people, and I quickly drop my towel, reaching for my dick and giving it a stern tug. It does nothing to abate the lust pulsing through me.
It’s been two days, and my body has been deprived.
It wants to come. It wants to find that pure release once more. A release only Colton can give.
“Why you running?” a dark voice says from behind me, and I jump, turning to see Colton leaning against the lockers, his body still dripping wet, his towel hanging loosely around his neck.
“I wasn’t running.”
“You were. Why?”
I huff and grab my clothes, tossing them onto the bench behind me.
“Ah, you’re mad I didn’t call, aren’t you? You are so fucking good, you know that, Witkoff?”
“I don’t give a shit if you call or not.”
He pushes off the lockers and steps toward me, reaching out and dragging a finger up my side. It makes me shiver, makes me bite back a moan.
If I lean into that touch a bit, there’s nothing I can do about it.
My body has gone rogue.
“I just got busy with shit. I haven’t talked to anyone these past two days. It’s not personal.”
It felt personal, but I don’t say that. I just let his hand slide through my hair and tug. His lips move to mine, and I let him kiss me. A drag of his tongue, a snap of his teeth.
“I know you got your ass waxed,” he says softly, reaching around me and dragging a finger up my crack.
“How the hell do you know that?”
“The card was redeemed. They e-mailed me.”
My cheeks burn. “So what?”
“So, that means you want my tongue up that ass.” He punctuates it by pushing against my hole, and I grunt, arching into him. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get inside you. Can’t wait to fuck that tight ass.”
He kisses me once more, and I find myself writhing against him, my hands grabbing onto his wet skin, my hips arching up into his.
“I wanna see. I wanna see that smooth ass.”
“You need to apologize for ignoring me first. I’m not a pushover.”
He gives me a small smirk. “Fine. I’m sorry, baby. I won’t do it again.”
It’s enough for me to let him maneuver me. And he does it easily, bending me over the bench, ass out, my balls swinging between my legs.
I feel him spread me, his eyes hot on my hole, eating it up.
And then he gets on his knees and sticks his face right there, his tongue lapping at me.
I didn’t expect this. Not in the locker room, not when people could meander back here and see. But that doesn’t stop him. Or me. I just let it happen. He licks me, his tongue pushing into mejust briefly, quick enough that I lose the ability to breathe, and then he pulls away and slaps my ass. Hard.
I can hear the guys mingling in the locker room suddenly freeze, probably unsure of what they heard.
“Mm,” he says, standing up and pulling me into him. His lips hit my ear and he whispers, “We need to be careful. Tonight. Be ready.”
