Hotshot (The Elmwood Stories #5) Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: The Elmwood Stories Series by Lane Hayes
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
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He shot a sly smile at me as we crossed the street to the dirt path parallel to the creek.

“And now I’m nervous.”

“You should be,” he teased. “But you’ll get more karma points for that than you will for hanging out with me.”

There were no lamplights on the road leading to my place, but there was little to no traffic here, and twilight was still an hour away. I glanced up at the pale-blue sky streaked with pink against the hillside dotted with trees, houses, and steeples in the distance; and the road to our left, hugging the edge of the forest. It was gorgeous.

And quiet.

The whisper of a breeze through the trees and the occasional trill of birds was the only sound for miles. It was like stepping into a landscape painting saturated with color, steeped in serenity.

“I like hanging out with you,” I said, breaking the silence as we stepped onto the front porch.

Denny beamed. “The feeling is mutual.”

“Must be something in the water.” I rested my hand on his hip and moved into his space, pulling him closer and nuzzling his neck. “Strong stuff. ’Cause I want you all the fucking time.”

Denny licked my bottom lip, hiking my shirt up as he splayed a palm on my chest. “Then what are you waiting for?”

I captured his mouth, molding our hips and dragging my arousal against his. He was impossible to resist. Every touch made me want more than my share.

I pulled away with a strangled sigh and adjusted my throbbing cock. “C’mon, Romeo. Let’s check on the horses.”

Denny’s theatric groan made me laugh. He tugged at my belt loop as we bypassed the house and made our way to the barn, grumbling about cockteases and his jumbo-sized dick.

Maybe I was guilty of deflection, but I needed a minute to rearrange my thoughts before I dove in headfirst again. I was jealous of his ex and worried I’d lost sight of my goal to get out of this town ASAP. And I wished I had the right to touch him in public. You name it—my issues were growing by the day.

And the biggest issue by far was that this felt less like a mutually beneficial “friendship” to me and more like my undoing.

The unraveling had already begun.

16

DENNY

Hank moved a new bale of hay into the stable, refreshed Bess and Fred’s water, and checked the alarm system while I wandered around the stall, restless and edgy. Or maybe I was just horny. My worlds had collided today, and it had gone pretty damn well.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Hank was always charming, and he seemed to navigate new social situations with ease. I was proud of him.

Weird sentiment, but it fit. Watching him from across the lawn at the barbecue today, chatting away with my old high school coach and my friends, had given me a funny, buzzy feeling. He looked like he belonged. It was hard to remember this was a ruse.

I pushed the thought aside and spent a few minutes brushing Bess’s mane.

“Do you ever braid her mane? I saw this documentary about show horses and they were doing all these detailed braids. Looked cool. I must have been bored out of my mind at a hotel in between games. I’m not much of a documentary guy. I’d rather watch sports. Any sport…or play video games. My brother gave me his old console before he left for college. I dragged it with me to Grams’s house and she still has it. Not sure why. I bought a new one for myself. I sent one to Kai too. A belated thank-you, I guess. It took him two weeks to acknowledge the gift. I guess he travels a lot for work. It’s like, ‘Fuck you, so do I,’ but I wouldn’t say that. Grams thinks I’m too non-confrontational for my own good. She’s probably right.”

I was babbling and I knew it. I bit my tongue to shut myself up and chanced a look at the hunk spreading hay on the other end of the stall. God, Hank Cunningham was a sexy motherfucker.

He glanced up on cue. “What’s wrong? You went quiet on me. First time in an hour. Did you swallow your tongue?”

“Yeah, but that’s your fault,” I replied in a huskier than usual tone. “You look so hot.”

Hank snorted. “You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” I followed him out of the stall and grabbed the hat he’d left on the ledge. I set it on Hank’s head and whistled. “This, right here, is a fantasy moment. You in that hat…fucking me like an animal.”

He stared at me for a beat, and damn it, my cock swelled on command.

“C’mere,” he rasped.

I walked to an empty stall, away from the horses, unbuckling my belt and wiggling my shorts and boxer briefs over my ass. “No, you come here.”


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