Page 12 of Twice as Twisted

Two hours later, Colt comes swaggering up, a bag over his shoulder.

“You got a new truck,” I say, swinging my legs below the tailgate where I’m sitting.

“Graduation present.”

“A forty-year-old truck is what you got for graduation?” I ask. “Damn, your family really is hurting for money, huh?”

He lets out a snort of breath. “Not a car person, huh?”

“Just saying, it’s a shitty present.”

It’s not a shitty present. It’s sick as fuck, fully restored and sleek as new.

“What do you want, Duke?”

“I need a favor.”

“I’ve paid all my debts, baby boy,” Colt says, tossing his bag into the bed. “Now get off my truck.”

“I’m not calling in a debt,” I say. “I need to owe you.”

He pauses, his gaze dragging down my body. “Yeah?” he asks, wetting his lips. “What do you need to owe me?”

I glare at him. “You know what.”

“And you know I like to hear you say it.”

I grit my teeth and force the words out, not dropping my gaze. “A blow job.”

He sighs and nods toward the front of the truck. “Come on.”

I’m reaching for the door handle when he grabs me and spins me around, slamming my back against the side of the cab. “What the fuck?” I ask, trying to shove him off.

“Here.”

“Fuck no.”

“Right. Here,” he grits out. “Or nowhere.”

“What, you want the whole world to know how bad little gay boy Colt wants my dick?”

I let my gaze sweep over the lot as I speak. It’s late, the crowd having filtered out and left already. Only two cars remain, probably fighters or the crew members who clean up inside after the fights.

“I want you to obey,” he says without flinching.

“Fine, homo,” I say, reaching for his belt.

He blocks me with a firm grip, his other hand fisting in the hair on the crown of my head. He pulls my head back againstthe window, his smoky blue gaze boring into mine. “Don’t touch me.”

I wait for him to shove me onto my knees like he did in the grass that night. His gaze locks on mine, holding it steady while he jerks open my belt.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

He shoves his hand inside, wrapping his strong fingers around my cock. “Giving you what you need,” he says, stepping closer, his mouth inches from mine, a dare. His lower lip juts out as he squeezes, running his hand up my length, thumbing over the tip. His eyes never leave mine. He works his hand up and down until I’m straining inside his tight grip, so hard I can’t help but shove my hips forward, needingmore.A groan rumbles through me, and my eyes fall closed, my head sinking against the window.

Colt’s fingers tighten, and he jerks my head up. “Eyes on me,” he growls. “Look at me while I make you cum in my hand.”

I grit my teeth, glaring at him as he starts jerking hard, so hard it hurts. I moan, my hips thrusting forward unbidden, craving the contact, the pain, the shame. His rough, calloused hand chafes, and I know I’ll be raw tomorrow, but that only makes me harder. A car rolls by on the road beside the parking lot, slow and quiet, and I try to twist away, but Colt jostles me back against the car.

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