50. Chapter 50
Eight Days Until Charlotte
Every part of Colt’s body ached—from his head to his toes, he was one big, aching mess. He was running himself hard, but what choice did he have? This was his shot.
He watched the coffee finish dripping and rubbed his heavy eyes. Even Toast wouldn't get out of bed with him at three fifteen in the morning. The cat had watched him from his spot at the top of Beau’s pillow like he was crazy as he'd slipped out of the covers and left the room.
Maybe he was.
Felt like it, a little, the way the days were blurring together, the way every ache bled into the next, the way he was basically living with Beau right now and too tired to enjoy it. All he could think about was the test next week. His mind was spinning at all times.
Hands slid onto his hips, and Beau stepped up behind him with a sleepy yawn. Damn, Colt was out of it if he hadn't heard Beau’s heavy footfalls.
He leaned back into Beau's warmth, and Beau nuzzled into his neck. “What are you doing up?”
“You annoyed Toast. Tail was flickin’ me in the face,” Beau mumbled in that sleep-thick accent that made Colt’s knees weak. One of his thumbs traced circles on Colt’s hip bone. “Come back to bed.”
“Can't.” And what a goddamn shame, considering he could feel Beau, half-hard and thick, against his lower back. “I have to—”
“You have to get your pretty ass into the bathroom.” Beau kissed the spot right behind Colt’s ear, and the heat from it slipped down Colt’s spine.
“Get yourself nice ‘n clean for me.” One hand slid up under his shirt and cupped his pec as Beau licked the shell of his ear. “And let me take care of you.”
“Beau, I have to—”
The hand on his chest moved to his throat, dragging his shirt up with it. Beau’s grip wasn't hard, but it was firm, and he used it to push Colt’s head back.
“Did I ask?” Beau whispered against his ear, low and rough, and fucking hell. “Answer me.”
Colt whined, breathy and needy. Pathetic. He didn’t give one flying fuck. “No. No, sir.”
Beau's grip tightened, and he rolled his hips, dragged himself against Colt's back.
“That's right.” Using the hand still on Colt's hip, Beau pulled until his ass was against Beau’s cock. Beau ground against him, slow and hard. “So when I tell you to get in that shower, what do you do?”
“I—” Shit. It was hard to talk. Why was it hard to talk? Colt’s ears were hot. “I get in the shower.”
“Mhmm.” Beau nipped his earlobe. “And then what?”
“And I get myself clean. For you.” He pushed back into the pressure, and Beau petted his throat. “And—um. Let you take care of me.”
“There's my good boy.” Stubble scratched across the back of his neck as Beau dragged his chin over it. Then he let go, ignoring Colt’s sound of protest. “Now, go on. Hurry up. Come back to bed when you're done.”
There wasn't even a flicker of thought about disobeying. Not one second before Colt was scurrying down the hall, tripping over his shoes as he kicked them off on his way to Beau’s room. He found the supplies he needed already laid out for him and snatched them up before hopping into the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, clean inside and out, Colt slipped on one of Beau’s shirts from the closet and padded into the bedroom. Where he found Beau in a pair of gray sweatpants, shirtless and sexy like something right out of Colt’s filthy fantasies. His ass—good God.
Beau turned, and Colt’s gaze fixed on his crotch, where he could see the outline of Beau's—
“C'mere.” Beau set down a bottle of lube—lube holy shit yes please—and watched as Colt approached. He gripped Colt’s hip with one hand and pushed Colt’s wet hair off his forehead with the other.
Then he pulled Colt into a kiss with a hand at the back of his neck.
He fisted the shirt at Colt's waist and pushed it up, exposing Colt's thigh.
He slipped his tongue into Colt's mouth, and Colt made a low sound at the taste of him.
Colt loved the way Beau kissed—heat and rough stubble, all his attention on Colt like he wanted to devour him whole. And Colt would let him. Might even beg for it, and maybe that was fucked up, but Beau overwhelmed Colt in the most delicious way. He wanted to drown in him.
Too soon, Beau broke the kiss and bodily turned Colt toward the bed, pushing until his knees hit the side of the mattress.
He nudged the backs of Colt’s knees and shoved him down with a hand between his shoulder blades, and Colt groaned.
Pressed his forehead into the comforter and arched his back, making the shirt slide halfway up his ass.
“Pretty thing,” Beau sighed as he stepped closer and ran one hand up Colt’s inner thigh. He kept going, callouses scratching against the sensitive skin where ass met thigh, and gripped the hem of the shirt. “Like you in my clothes.”
“That's good.” Colt pressed back into Beau's hand, smirking at the bedding. “Because I've stolen, like, five of your shirts.”
Beau swatted him on the back of the thigh, and Colt gasped. Shit. That was hot. Why was that hot?
“You like that, boy?” Beau rumbled as he pressed his thumb into the spot he'd just smacked.
There was no time for Colt to answer before Beau did it again to the other side, and this time Colt's gasp was half a moan.
He nodded, rubbing his forehead against the fabric. “Yeah. Yup. Yes, I think I like that, shit. Your big fucking hands, Beau.”
Beau hummed and slid both hands up under the shirt to grip the meat of Colt’s ass, and then he was spreading him, letting out this low appreciative noise that made Colt's entire body heat.
Not that Colt hadn't done filthy shit before, but the fact that it was Beau staring at his exposed asshole felt entirely different than any other man he'd been with. And he'd been with a lot of men.
Stubble rubbed against his left asscheek, and Colt’s hips jerked as Beau bit down gently and pressed his thumb flat against Colt’s hole. Wet like he’d had it in his mouth. Cold. “I'm gonna fuck you, Colt. That alright with you?”
“Oh, fuck.” Colt reached between his legs and gripped his dick. It was aching and dripping, and if he wasn't careful, he was gonna come untouched like a fourteen-year-old. “Yes. Oh my God, yes, please, fuck me until I can't breathe, Beau, I've wanted you for so goddamn long.”
Beau pressed his thumb harder, just the tip pushing inside, and Colt sucked in a sharp gasp. “I know. How many times have you come to me hopin’ to be split on my cock?”
That answer was so goddamn embarrassing that it left Colt feeling more exposed than having his cheeks spread right in front of Beau’s face. A heady mix of shame and heat made his neck flush red.
“I—um.” He pressed his burning forehead harder into the comforter. “That's not—”
Shit. How was he supposed to fucking think with the tip of Beau’s thumb inside him, the heat from those thighs burning all along the backs of Colt’s?
“Answer me.” Beau’s thumb pressed deeper, just past the first knuckle.
Colt had pride. He really did. But not right now.
“Four.” His cock pulsed and dripped, and he squeezed the base. “The gym, um, once when I knew we'd be alone at the shop, once when we had the track to ourselves, and—and then the other night.”
Beau’s fingers dug into Colt’s skin. He sounded hungry, gravel in his voice, when he said: “Desperate, aren't you? Christ. My desperate little slut. You didn’t even ask if I was clean, and you’re gonna let me do whatever I want, aren’t you?”
Colt moaned, and Beau had literally no idea how desperate he really was. “Yeah. I am, fuck, please, please, Beau, just—”
A hand ran up his flank, and Beau made a soft, soothing noise as he pulled his thumb out.
The lube opened with a plastic click, and then Beau drizzled it over him, let it slide down between his cheeks, cold and wet.
But it didn’t matter, because one second later, Beau was circling his hole with one of his fingers.
“I read your medical file front to back, did you know that?” Beau leaned down and licked a stripe up Colt’s flank. “I’m clean too. And I’m gonna fuck you raw.”
The first finger slid in, hot and thick because Beau was big everywhere, and Colt pushed back, trying to get it deeper. Beau eased in up to his last knuckle, his other hand running up Colt’s side, gentling across his bruised ribs.
“Look at that,” Beau rumbled as he pulled his finger out and pushed it back in. “I think you’re ready for another.”
“Yes, please, yes.” Colt moved back again, his chest rising and falling shallow and quick. “More. I can take it, I promise, I’ll take you so good, baby, please.”
“Mhmm.”
Beau worked another finger in with the first, a perfect ache as Colt stretched to accommodate him.
There was no time for Colt to adjust before Beau was pulling them out and shoving them back in, scissoring, stretching, petting Colt everywhere he could touch with his other hand while Colt fisted the sheets.
Then Beau twisted his fingers, seeking until he hit that spot deep in Colt that made him see sparks.
“There you are,” Beau murmured as he crooked his fingers and hit it again.
Colt moaned, panting full-out into the sheets now, and Beau pushed Colt’s knees apart with his own so he could kneel on the bed behind him. Then he fucked Colt with his fingers so relentlessly that Colt’s eyes burned with tears.
“That’s it, boy.” Beau added a third finger, and Colt’s back arched. “Such a pretty thing. Look at you. Grinding back on my hand like a bitch in heat—fuck.”
Whining, leaking, nothing but sensation and mindless babbling now, Colt pushed harder, pressed his cheek into the mattress so he could reach between his legs for his painfully hard cock. Almost there, so fucking close, and if he could just get a hand on himself he’d—
Beau stopped.
“No, wait. Don’t—why’d you—” Colt moved back, an absolutely useless attempt because all it took was Beau holding his hip with one fucking hand to keep him still. “Beau. Please. I need—”