Page 35 of Twisted Minds

He shifts, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his phone. I see it then, the wallpaper on his phone. A younger version of him, with arms wrapped around him that belong to a pretty woman with black hair and sparkling brown eyes. She smileswide for the camera, and I smile at the light in Hunter’s eyes. “She’s beautiful.”

“She was.” He tucks it away, and I note it for the end of conversation about her that he wants it to be.

“People on the team know you’re out, right?”

Hunter grins. “Yeah. No one gives a shit. Our coach is queer, he has a partner. If he heard any homophobic, racist, misogynistic shit on his team they’d be out. No questions asked. Hate has no place on our team.” Those words bring me to Derrick—hatred in human form. “There’s a zero-tolerance policy for bullying on our team.” Hunter’s fingers squeeze mine. “Coach puts ethics and people over scores. It’s why I respect him so much. My high school wasn’t like that.”

“He sounds amazing.”

“He is. He used to play for my favorite hockey team, so it’s fucking surreal having him coach us. I couldn’t believe it when I came here.” It’s quiet for a moment, until I lose Hunter’s hand and he rolls to face me, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at me. “So, the other night.”That kiss.“When should we do our control session?” He grins, and I can just barely make him out with the city lights beneath us and the stars above.

“I kissed you in the locker room.”

“Yeah, but I was naked, so that may not give you the most conclusive result. There were other factors that elevated that kiss.”

“Oh, I saw the towel. Shit was definitely elevated.”

Hunter laughs, and I love the deep richness of it. “Well, it’s not raining right now.”

“It’s not.”

“And I have clothes on.”

“Unfortunately.” That makes him laugh softly, and I love the deep timbre of it.

“I mean, I’m okay with trying now.” Hunter wets his lips, and my eyes flick to the movement of his tongue, wanting it elsewhere. It’s perfect out tonight—not too warm, not cold at all. The perfect fall night.

Hunter cups my jaw, leaning down to kiss me. The connection is electric. Pleasure heats every cell in my body. Hunter doesn’t hesitate to lick the seam of my lips, and I let him in, groaning at his minty taste. His rough fingers caress my jaw. My hand wraps around his wrist, holding on for dear life. Each press of his lips and swipe of his tongue hits me with a thousand volts of electric heat. Pleasure weaves and winds its way through my belly. I’m hyperaware of the problem straining the front of my sweats, and Hunter pulls back, looking down and seeing it too.

Hunter’s mouth is back on mine, ten times hungrier. Deepening the kiss, he plunges his tongue inside my mouth, and I take it, growing more crazed with each second. “Fuck, you taste good.” He nips my lip, crushing our mouths together. I need more. I lose the hand on my jaw and almost protest before I feel it slide down my chest to rest on the band of my sweats.

He kisses the side of my face. I can’t move, feeling his fingers dip under my hoodie and brush the skin on my belly, making me shiver. “The things I want to do to you,” he whispers in my ear.

“Then do them,” I nearly whine. I am not above begging at this point. Hunter laughs, and the deep sound feels like a velvet glove caressing my spine. My cock jerks as those fingers tease and play, brushing my belly button and tracing circles in the happy trail just above where I need him. My cock is straining, begging for literally anything at this point. “Please.”

“You’re so beautiful.” Hunter kisses my forehead, and okay, this man needs to stop teasing me. My hips roll but all he does is chuckle like there’s something so fucking amusing about the desperation I feel for him. “You want me to touch you?”

“Jesus, please.” Panting, I’m not sure what he’s going to do, but I always like to think of myself as easygoing and agreeable. Running the length of my abs, his hand travels over my stomach and up to tweak a nipple. Hunter leans down, capturing my lips while he teases me, and I whimper into his mouth.

Finally, his hand slides down, and he dips his thumb into the band of my sweatpants, caressing my sensitive skin. “This okay?” I pull back, nodding fast. I want Hunter bent over his car, moaning my name, but I don’t give a fuck right now. I just need something.

With a gentle touch he slides inside my sweats. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about him . . . Hunter treats me like I’m going to break, and I have to admit, I fucking like it.

A lot.

Our eyes connect as he slides his hand under my boxers and down my shaft, cupping my balls before sliding back up my erection. “Oh, fuck.” Hunter’s fingers circle my head before pulling away. I nearly scream in protest until I see him put those fingers into his mouth with a moan.

“So much precum.” His hand slips back inside my pants, wrapping around my aching dick. “You taste good.” Those fingers swipe my tip again, gathering more precum, and he begins to jerk me, the rough feeling of his palm incredible. “So wet already.” I want his mouth on me, but I’m hesitant about doing something like that out here. Instead, I relax back while Hunter’s fingers work magic between my legs.

“Holy shit.” A nearly dry hand job has never felt so good. Jerking off does not feel this good. I stop functioning as he picks up speed. I close my eyes as he presses kisses along my jaw, sucking the skin on my throat and making me see stars. Hunter whispers a lethal mixture of sweet and dirty things into my ear. His deep voice is doing more than most men’s mouths.

Pumping me slowly, his strokes grow smoother with the precum leaking from my cock.

I make more room for him, spreading my legs and melting against the blanket. Blindly, I reached for him. I want to touch him too. “Focus on you,” Hunter purrs in my ear.

“Holy shit.” He dips his thumb into my slit, and my back bows as he circles my sensitive head. I stop functioning altogether as his hand picks up speed, and I roll my hips, fucking into the tunnel of his hand. Heat pools in my belly. My legs tremble. I probably look like a mess, but I don’t fucking care. It feels so good. “Close, baby?”

I just nod. I can’t form words or even a solid thought. All I can focus on is his hand on me, his heat above me, and his scent all around me. He flicks his wrist on the upstroke, and I moan. I don’t care how loud I am. All I care about is the oncoming pleasure lighting up every nerve inside me. “I’m coming.”

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