36. Chapter 36
Colt was outside the shop when Beau pulled up, just like he’d been every morning since that first day. He had on jeans that rode low on his hips and a pink top that felt like it had been chosen specifically to draw his eyes to those defined pecs he wanted to lick.
Hell.
“Mornin’.” Beau held out the protein smoothie he’d made. “There’s kale in it, but you shouldn’t taste it with the mango.”
Instead of taking the drink right away, Colt searched Beau’s face. How badly had Beau fucked this up?
Finally, Colt took the cup. “Thanks,” Colt told him in a considering voice.
He followed Beau into the shop without a word, his eyes burning into Beau’s back. The rest of their shift was spent in a quiet that wasn’t cold but wasn’t comfortable either.
At the end of the day, Colt followed him to the truck so they could go to the gym just like he always did.
He was wearing a pair of shorts that showed more thigh than they covered, and one of those band tees he’d cut the arms out of so that all that was holding it on his body were two hems and a prayer.
Beau flexed his hands as he started the truck. Colt was wearing the shoes Beau had gotten him, too, and that was worse than the shorts because they’d come from him. He’d provided them, and he liked that Colt was wearing them even though they’d barely spoken all day.
“Bench,” Beau directed after he’d walked Colt through stretches and brief cardio for warm-up. He pointed where he wanted him. “I’ll get the harness.”
Colt nodded and sat with his legs spread, back straight, and shoulders squared.
His eyes were fixed on Beau’s face for every buckle being strapped and every fit check.
When Beau stepped back, Colt held his gaze for one long moment, then dragged his eyes down Beau's neck, lingering on his chest, and then moving to his stomach. Then Colt stared directly at the front of Beau’s sweats and let out the tiniest puff of air.
“What are you doing, boy?” Beau asked as heat spread up his throat.
Those eyes. Christ, it was like fingers running across his skin.
“Waiting for you to put the weights on,” Colt replied, his attention flicking back up to Beau’s face. “Well?”
“You're playing games,” Beau murmured as he grabbed the weights and brought them over.
Beau stood close to attach the weights to their chains, and Colt’s heat burned into his thighs.
Colt kept perfect form as he did his sets, his chest rising and falling beautifully as he worked, sweat sliding down his neck and disappearing into his shirt.
As the work got harder, those quiet, strained noises started again.
Twenty-four hours ago, they'd sounded like effort.
Now they sounded exactly like the noises Colt had made grinding against his belt buckle.
“Good,” Beau said as Colt strained for a second and then righted himself. “Straighten your spine when you lean like that.”
“Can you show me?” Colt came back to starting position. “Help me feel where I should be flexing?”
Whatever game Colt was playing, Beau was losing. He stepped up behind Colt and pressed his fingertips gently into the right muscle, and when Colt moved into the set, it flexed. When Colt moved again, Beau spread his whole hand against him, Colt’s skin hot and slick through that scrap of shirt.
“Good.” Beau should damn well be keeping his mouth shut after last night, but the words kept coming anyway. “That’s right. Right there.”
Colt’s breath hitched, and Beau’s cock swelled slowly against his thigh. “Here.” He ran his palm down another muscle group and pressed harder. “You’re missing this one.”
“Okay.” Colt tried again.
“Good boy,” Beau said, which he hadn’t meant to say at all. Christ.
“Set’s over.” Colt was shaky and wrecked like he usually was before he escaped to the bathroom between exercises.
Beau unstrapped the harness from behind and lifted it off, settled it on the ground, and waited for Colt to go.
He didn't.
Instead, he leaned and stretched his arms over his head as Beau went to replace the weights.
And the bratty little shit waited right until Beau turned back around to spread his legs further, sliding down on the bench and letting his shorts ride up higher.
They were so fucking tight that Beau could see exactly why Colt usually ran to the bathroom after this.
“See something you like, Beau?” Colt asked as he shifted his hips. Beau’s eyes stuck between Colt’s pretty thighs, and the shorts hid nothing. Colt’s dick twitched at Beau’s attention. “Because I sure like you looking.”
Beau tore his gaze away and picked up the harness to put in his bag. “Go home. We're done today.”
Colt slowly pulled himself to his feet, and Beau’s traitorous eyes raked down every inch of him—his shorts that had ridden higher, the flex of his quads, the visible outline of his cock that Colt wasn’t even attempting to hide today.
“Yes, sir.” Colt grabbed his bag and left.
Beau waited until the gym door closed before he let himself breathe. His hands were shaking, and he was half-hard. Forty-two goddamn years old. His control should be better than this.
He packed slowly so Colt had time to leave, and to give himself time to calm the fuck down. But when he stepped out into the parking lot, Colt was leaning against the driver’s side door of Beau’s truck with his arms crossed.
“Colt,” Beau warned, tossing his gym bag in the bed.
“Beau.”
The sun was setting through the storm clouds that had never opened up, the light slanting down soft and orange against Colt’s throat as he tipped his head back and regarded Beau with half-lidded eyes. Like a predator.
“What are you doing?” Beau asked.
“Well, I’ve been thinking.” Colt straightened and stepped closer, and even towering over him, Beau almost moved back. When he didn’t, Colt pressed the tips of his fingers on Beau’s wrist where it was resting along the truck bed. “And I don’t accept what you said last night.”
“That right?” Beau asked as Colt’s fingers trailed down the inside of his wrist. “What part are you having trouble accepting?”
“Maybe the part where you kissed me like you wanted to fuck me through my clothes and then said we couldn’t.
” Those fingers moved up his arm and into the crook of his elbow before sifting down through Beau’s arm hair and tracing the back of his hand.
“The thing is: you don’t get to decide that. Not on your own.”
Beau should absolutely move. He didn’t. Colt traced patterns across Beau’s skin, and arousal crept through Beau’s body, and he stayed.
Colt came closer and moved his hand to Beau’s chest, right over Beau’s hammering heart. “Beau, you want me.”
He couldn't deny it. Not as he was letting this happen.
“I'd be so good for you, Beau.” That hand trailed down as Colt stepped even closer and lowered his voice. “Your good boy. I want that. I want to get on my knees for you. I want you.”
Fingers were at the waistband of his sweats before he could convince himself to stop this. Headlights flooded the lot from the other side of his truck just as he grabbed Colt’s wrist.
“Stop,” he said, rough and low.
“Hey, team Jackrabbit!”
Beau jerked back and knocked his hip into the truck bed. The driver of car #63 hopped out of a minivan and waved..
“Evening,” Beau called back evenly.
#63 headed into the gym with a teen girl who had to be his kid based on that red shade of hair.
Colt whirled on him the second the door shut. “You're ashamed of me.”
“Colt, I—”
“Oh my God.” Colt ran a hand through his hair and stepped back. “No one could even see us, Beau, and you just acted like I'm a fucking leper.”
“You don't understand—”
“Then explain it to me!” Colt snapped. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself and Beau hated that all he wanted to do was pull him close and take everything back.
“Explain how you can look at me the way you just did, get hard for me, kiss me like you want to eat me alive, and then act like being seen with me as more than my coach is something to be ashamed of.”
“Exactly,” Beau said. “I'm your coach. It's unethical.”
“Why, because I pay you?” Colt scoffed, crossing his arms. “Try again.”
“I'm your boss!”
“Right, and you pay me? Funny. Haven't seen a cent.” Shaking his head, Colt took a step to the side and back, that restlessness thrumming. “If anything we're each other's hobby, Beau. Give me a better reason.”
“I'm fifteen years older,” Beau tried, though he was struggling to meet Colt’s gaze.
“Last year, I spent three weeks on a beach railing some sixty-eight-year-old man who’d lost his wife and didn’t want to take a vacation alone.” Colt snorted at the expression on Beau’s face. “Oh, come on. Don’t be a prude. I’m just saying age doesn’t matter to me, alright?”
“Colt—”
“Give me a real reason.”
“Kendrick—”
“Nope.”
“The shop—”
“Yeah, no. Try again.”
“Because I can't live with myself knowing I fucking groomed you!” The words ripped out of him with all the desperation of a man drowning, raw and terrified, and he finally looked into Colt's eyes just in time for them to shutter entirely.
The silence stretched between them as the parking lot lights clicked on and buzzed. Colt was working his jaw, staring at Beau like he wasn't sure whether to lay him out or walk away.
“Groomed me?” Colt’s brows drew together. “Fuck, Beau. I’m almost thirty years old. Are you serious right now?”
“I knew what I was doing to you every time I told you how good you were.” Beau ran his hand down his mouth to his chin. “For weeks I—”
“And the first time I got a fucking hard-on listening to you praise me was the second time you ever brought me to the gym,” Colt snapped. He paced away, took a deep breath and came back. “Do you have any idea how insulting it is that you just said that to me? Groomed me!”
“Whether you pay me or not, I am your coach,” Beau insisted. “The power dynamic—”
“I'm not in high school!”
“It doesn't matter!”
“God, you really do think I'm just some idiot kid.” Colt scrubbed his face and let out a frustrated little growl. “That's so wrong, Beau. I thought at the very least you respected me. But, Jesus. You think I'm so fucking naive that I don't even know what I want?”
“I do respect you.” Beau’s eyes were stinging, his heart racing. This had gone pear-shaped so goddamn fast, and he'd just hurt Colt again. “If I didn't, we wouldn't be here right now. It's not about you, or what you did. It's about me.”
“Beau, I just spent thirty minutes eye-fucking you while you tried to pretend nothing was happening.” Colt threw up his hands. “I've got a plug up my ass and lube in my gym bag, and you're going to stand there and tell me straight to my face that you think you're responsible for that?”
All the blood rushed from Beau’s head to settle, hot and demanding, right in his gut. A plug. Lube. The image hit him like a physical blow—Colt, prep-warm and waiting. It was the hottest thing anyone had ever said to him, and he was the lowest kind of predator for even thinking about it.
"You're talkin' real big, boy," Beau said, his voice tight with something jagged. "You think standin' there tellin' me how you've prepared your body for me makes this better? It makes it worse. It means I’ve let this go so far you’ve spent your private time fixin' to be ruined by your coach.”
“Ruined.” Colt let out the quietest, most savage little growl as he stepped into Beau's space. “Jesus, Beau, I'm not asking you to fucking marry me. I'm asking you to fuck me. That's literally it. Ruin me. You think you can ruin me after who and what I've done? You—”
Colt had more to say, pressing his lips together like the words were trying to claw their way out. And Beau should leave it. He should get in his truck and drive Colt’s fool ass home so they could pretend this never happened.
He stepped forward into Colt’s space. “I what, Colt? You got somethin’ else to say to me? Go ahead and say it.”
Colt tipped his jaw back. “I've had men who make anything you could possibly do to me look like a goddamn game, Beau.
Like a tea party. You growl and throw your weight around and touch my throat—you think any of that scares me?
It's G-rated. You think you could ruin me?” Scoffing, Colt crossed his arms. “I'd like to see you try.”
Enough.
Beau drew to his full height and stepped up to Colt, kept moving until Colt was forced to step back, and back.
He hit the side of the truck and dropped his arms, and Beau dug his fingers into Colt's hip.
Colt let out a gasp, and Beau leaned down until his lips were brushing the shell of his ear, until he could feel the heat from Colt's flush.
“You wanna challenge me, boy?” he murmured, voice low and gravel-rough. “You want me to fuck you?” Colt's hips tried to jerk, but Beau dug his fingers in harder, held him down against the side of his truck. “Then find a new coach. Because as long as you're in my seat, I'm not touchin’ you.”
Colt’s pupils were blown to hell, his cheeks flaming. There was still a challenge in the press of his lips and the draw of his brow despite how wrecked he looked, and he shook his head. He grabbed Beau’s collar and pulled until Beau was forced to either lean down or let it rip.
“No,” Colt snarled.
“No?”
“No.” Colt pushed, and Beau let himself be moved back. “I won't find another coach, and you damn well know it. But you're forgetting a third option.”
“That right?” Beau asked as Colt leaned down and grabbed his bag despite the way his hands were slightly shaking.
“Yeah.” Colt turned to Beau and raised an eyebrow, the defiant little brat. “I'm gonna find someone else to fuck me.”
“Get in the truck.” Beau kept his voice low and even, biting back his visceral anger. “Right now.”
“Nope.” Colt grinned at him—sharp and mean at the edges—as he started walking away backwards. “I got plans. I can walk myself home. Night, coach.”
Then he turned on his heel and walked away, shoulders back, bag slung carelessly over his shoulder.
Beau watched him go until his jaw started to ache from how hard he was clenching his teeth.
Until the urge to grab him by the back of his neck and shove him into the bed of the truck had passed enough for him to shake out his fist.
He got into his truck and quietly closed the door.
He needed a goddamn drink.