Next Season (The Elmwood Stories #2) 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: 67
Estimated words: 64238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
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“Got it.”

My lips twisted in amusement. “Okay. Your turn.”

“I’m not telling you,” he scoffed.

“Shy again?”

“No, I just—all right, fine. The idea of sex in public turns me on. I’ve never done it and I never will, but yeah…hot. And now I have a chubby. Thanks a lot. Let’s go to my place and do something about it.”

“We could,” I agreed slowly. “Or…we could stay here and you could suck my cock.”

He met my gaze and cracked a smile. “You’re serious.”

“Just a thought.” I shrugged lazily.

“Okay. Undo your jeans, and show me your dick.”

I arched a brow and cast a quick glance around us, though I knew we were completely alone. Very few people ventured off the trails on brisk, late November evenings at dusk. And a passing vehicle wouldn’t be able to see the lake from the road no matter what time of day it was, so…yes, this was safe. But cold.

Not that I’d back down. No way. Riley was calling my bluff, and we both knew it. I wasn’t going anywhere now.

I unzipped my jacket, unbuckled my belt, and fumbled to release my semi from the confines of my boxer briefs without my bare ass touching the rock. “Here it is. In less than one minute, this poor guy will shrivel to the size of a cocktail wiener, so if you’re serious, get to it.”

Riley’s gaze flitted from my crotch to my eyes. “It’s a fantasy, though. Dirty talk only.”

“No problem. Stop talking and suck my dick, cowboy.”

“I’m not a cowboy,” he huffed, rubbing his hands together.

“That would be hot too. You could be wearing a hat and—tabarnak, your hand is an icicle!”

Riley snickered merrily. “Sorry. Let me try again. Hands free.”

We grinned like a couple of idiots, and then his mouth was on mine, and it was sweet and fun and life-affirming in all the best ways. As he lowered his head and swallowed me whole, I had a split second to marvel at how perfect this was—my version of perfect: slightly messy, slightly nonsensical, and more than a little complicated.

Like Riley.

9

RILEY

Jean-Claude knew too much about me. The real me. The stubborn, superstitious athlete grappling with a fading career and hoping for one last shot to make my mark. And the other real me who loved a dare and was easily persuaded to try kinky shit, like sucking my lover’s cock while perched on a lakeside boulder. I barely recognized this part of me, but I couldn’t deny that it turned me on.

I ignored the mega erection behind my zipper and put everything I had into giving the best BJ I could deliver to this incredible man who somehow managed to reveal me, layer by layer, like an onion. C’mon, wasn’t it obvious? I could claim I didn’t have any noteworthy sexual fantasies, but I was currently living every secret fantasy I’d never allowed myself to harbor.

Sex in public—okay, yes, but sex with a man…touching a man, sucking a man, getting fucked by a man—this was next level. And this man was every fantasy come to life.

Jean-Claude was big and powerful, full of life and laughter. I soaked up his energy like a sponge, feeling lighter and happier in his company than I had with anyone in years. Or maybe ever. What had started as a dare became something more as I bobbed my head over his lap, stroking Jean-Claude’s thick cock as I worked him over, twirling my tongue over his crown and licking his shaft like a lollipop before hoovering him again.

I wanted to please him. I wanted to be his fantasy. I wanted to give more than I cared about receiving. That was something, right?

Maybe this was part of my bisexual journey. Maybe the next question was…how far would I go? Yes, I already let him inside me, but would I let him come in me? Would he let me fuck him too? Did I want that?

Yes, no question. I wanted everything he’d give me. It was all so fucking good.

“So good, Riley,” he hummed as if he could read my mind.

I pressed my palm against my denim-clad dick for the tiniest bit of relief as I sucked and licked, jacking whatever part of him I couldn’t get in my mouth. I felt his cock pulse deep in my throat and yeah, I wanted that too. Give it to me.

His fingers were in my hair, tugging and pulling.

I sat up, disoriented and strung out. “Are you close?”

“Too close.”

“I was ready for it, but now I think you really have to fuck me.” I unbuckled my belt and undid my jeans.

Jean-Claude blinked. “Yes. Come with me, mon cher.”

Two minutes later, I was bent over the open hatch of his SUV. I’d taken a quick glance to be sure we were still hidden from view. He’d parked close to a huge rocky ledge and there were no streetlights in the vicinity, so unless a random passerby stumbled upon us with a flashlight, we were safe…ish.


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