Page 27 of Eight Seconds to Ride

I wrap an arm around him, rolling onto my back, and bringing him with me. His body weight on mine is too fucking good, the feeling of our groins lining up, growing erections rubbing against each other, makes my eyes roll back. It’s been longer than I’d care to admit since I’ve hooked up, and I need this. This release.

That thought has my chest tightening as it hits me…when I’m not on the road, I don’t do one-night stands very often. Our town is so small, and I’ve learned the hard way, that fucking where you sleep is never a good idea. So, the last person I hooked up with… was Sterling. Why didn’t I realize this sooner?

Pushing that realization aside, I plant my hands on his hips, gripping firmly as he grinds on my lap, lips leaving mine to trail along my jaw and down to my neck in a hot, wet path. His teeth nip, tongue soothing, and a groan rumbles from my throat at how good it all feels. At this point, we’re both fully hard, and I don’t know about him, but I’m feeling like we got way too many clothes on between the two of us, and that’s just not working for me.

I grip the hem of his shirt, pulling it up some until he gets the hint. Because we’re in this small bunk bed, ripping this shirt off of him is slightly awkward. The real problem comes when it’s my turn to take my shirt off. There’s no fucking way.

Blowing out a breath, I give him a little shove. “Up. I can’t take my clothes off with both of us in this fucking bed.”

He does, and I allow myself a moment to shamelessly check him out. His chest is pale and wide, free of any ink, body lean, good muscle definition in all the right areas. There’s a light dusting of dark hair smattered along his chest, and lower, a happy trail leading right into his low-slung pants. My mouth waters as I take in the erection pressing against them, desperately begging to be set free.

The first time we did this, I didn’t get to fully taste him, but I plan to rectify that right fucking now. I stand off the bed, dragging my shirt over my head, secretly loving the way his eyes track everything. They rake down my chest, over my navel, landing on my groin, where he holds his stare for a moment before lifting to my face again.

Heat crawls up his neck, splashing his cheeks pink, and I don’t know why, but it’s an adorable sight. He was shy the first time we hooked up, but I chalked it up to us being complete strangers. Sterling isn’t a shy person by nature, I’ve noticed. He’s quiet and a little awkward, sure, but shy he is not. Especially when it comes to me; he holds himself well like he’s trying to prove something. So, the innocence radiating off of him is as interesting as it is cute.

I drop down to my knees, fingers coming up to the buckle of his belt. Flicking it open, I move on to the button and zipper of his jeans, glancing up at him from beneath my lashes. His slick, reddened lips are slightly parted, honey-colored eyes dark with desire, but they widen when I go to drag his pants down, handslapping over mine, like his brain is finally catching up to the scene before him.

“What are you doing?” he asks hurriedly, but quietly, the grip over my fingers tight.

My brows pinch together as I huff out a laugh through my nose. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m about to suck your dick.”

Sterling’s head snaps to the side, in the direction of Cope’s bed at the very end of the camper. I can tell he thinks we’re going to wake him up. When his eyes return to me, they’re swimming with an emotion I can’t quite place. Nervousness, maybe?

“You…” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple rolling harshly, before his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “You don’t have to do that,” he finally says.

“He’s not gonna wake up, man. Trust me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do,” I argue back. “You forget this isn’t my first rodeo with him. He’s as good as dead right now. And besides, we could’ve been halfway done by now if you’d just shut the hell up and let me get to work.”

Sterling narrows his eyes, glowering down at me for a moment before hefinallymoves his hand, letting me shove the material down his thick, muscular legs. Tight, deep purple briefs hug his body in a way that should be illegal. His dick is straining against the material, lying flat against his right thigh, a wet spot seeping through and making me grin.

Leaning in, I nuzzle my nose in his groin, where I know his balls are, and I inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. It’s so masculine, musky with a faint undertone of sweat, but also something that is all Sterling. It makes my head dizzy and my cock twitch behind my pants.

My hands reach up, fingers hooking into the waistband of his underwear, and I pull them down. His dick springs free,balls drawing up tight before relaxing. I peer up at him, eyes connecting with his. “You’ve got a really nice cock.”

And he does. I’ve seen it before, of course, but I didn’t get a good enough look. It’s smooth and cut, maybe six, six and a half inches, but thick, meaty, the tip a pale pink, and his balls are a beautiful, round handful that would sit gloriously on my face while I ate him out.

Choking out an awkward laugh, he says, “Uh, thanks.”

He’s breathing heavily. I can hear the shallow gusts of air from all the way down here, can feel the heat of his gaze on my head as I continue my exploration, but against his bare skin this time. I nestle my nose into the short, dark hair at the base of his cock, his breath hitching as he hears me inhale again. It’s intoxicating, smelling him like this. He smells incredible, like a hardworking man. Trailing down a little farther, I tickle his sack with the tip of my nose before glancing up at him, a smile splitting my face as my tongue darts out, licking a hot, wet stripe across the sensitive skin.

Sterling’s cheeks are bright red now—his chest and neck, too—and he’s got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his brows drawn inward as he watches me with a dark, needy gaze. His cock twitches against my cheek, which only makes my smile grow wider. Giving another lick, he lets out a groan, darting his gaze back over to where Cope’s asleep.

“Relax,” I whisper right up against his balls. “Trust me, he is not waking up.”

“It would be really awkward if he did.”

I shrug. “Nothing he hasn’t seen before.”

“Uh…” Sterling huffs, a scowl on his face. “He’s never seen my dick before.”

“Not what I meant,” I deadpan. “Now, shut the hell up, or else he will wake up.”

“Youjustsaid—” He doesn’t have a chance to finish that sentence because I suck one of his nuts into my mouth, making him gasp. His hands lift, but then go back to his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them before he lets out a low, quiet moan. “Oh, Christ, Shooter.”

The way he says my name, all throaty like that, sends a shiver down my spine. I love it. Want to make him say it again. And then again for good measure. Want it on a constant loop.

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