Page 84 of Alphas Like Us
My smile fades. I’m still on a gym mat, and I try to train my focus onMaximoff.
“Goddammit,” he growls, his laces coming completely loose. On bothshoes.
I push myself to a stance and tower over him. “Let me help, wolfscout.”
He nods after a short pause. As he rises to his feet, his gaze scales my six-foot-three frame, fixating on my chiseled abs and chest tattoos. His carriage rises in a headybreath.
Fuck,Maximoff.
My muscles contract. I slowly lower to my knees and my carnal gaze drips down his swimmer’s build on mydescent.
He’s watching my fingers as I tie his left Nike, and before I mention how he’s obsessed with my hands, Maximoff says, “Let’s place a bet on the race.” His deep voice comes outraspy.
“The race,” I repeat with raised brows. “You really want to place a bet on that?” I knot his lace and work on the rightshoe.
“Yeah.” He nods. “I can run a faster mile than you,man.”
I laugh. “The fact that you think you can run a mile right now is truly somethingelse.”
Maximoff tries hard not to smile. “Maybe I can…maybe I can’t, but we’ll see. And if you beat me, I’ll give youhead.”
I can’t fucking tear my eyes off him. “You must really want to give me head. Because there’s no chance in hell you’re beatingme.”
“There’sachance,” he refutes, his hand on my head while I kneel at his feet. Hisfuck meeyes and bobbing Adam’s apple just about drive menuts.
“Wolf scout,” I say while I finish tying his other shoe, “we can easily skip the part where you bust your ass on a treadmill, and I’ll let you suck meoff.”
His muscles noticeably flex. “Or I could outrun you, and then I’ll drive my cock in yourmouth.”
Damn.
I breathe through my nose, my blood cranking to a red-hot simmer. I clutch his waist, my hand moving towards his ass. “Or we could pretend you outran me, and I’ll gladly put your cock in my mouth.” It’s an out so he won’t have to hurthimself.
“Maybe,” he says without apause.
I stand up, an inch taller, and my hand dives down his shorts. I grip his bare ass and watch his eyes devour mewhole.
“Maybe?” I askdeeply.
Maximoff tilts his head back, almost bathing in mounting arousal and want. His daggered eyes are groaningfuck me fuckme.
I hold his jaw and close my lips over his bare neck. Sucking harder and harder—he rocks his hips against mine, our bodies tensed. Blistering veinspulsing.
Pulsing.
And then he says, “No.”
I frown and instantly retract myhands.
He breathes heavily. Pent-up. Neither of us came this morning since he had an early doctor’s appointment for a post-op checkup. But we were teasing the hell out of each other in bed with norelease.
“What’s wrong?” I ask,concerned.
“I need to run first.” He tears away from me and goes to thetreadmill.
I really don’t understand why he’s soadamant.
Sure, he’s been managing the pain better. His uncle and dad have been sharing tips since they’ve both been in similar spots as Maximoff. But trying to run, of all things, will flare up his injury and hurthim.
