Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 135792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“What is that?”
Knox stilled and looked up, a bit dazed. Cy’s face was made so strange by the red glass eye. It reflected the light of the nearby fire differently than the gray one, almost as if it glowed from the inside.
But Knox was no pussy. He’d come here with a purpose, and he was pretty sure he’d gotten a vibe from Cy at breakfast. So yeah, Knox would be test-riding Cy’s dick tonight given half the chance. He had to know.
Only that now, faced with this massive guy with fingers made of steel, he wasn’t so sure how he’d feel under him. It would be nothing like the horny safety of Liv’s arms. His best friend’s easy, self-satisfied smile. His eager kisses—
A part of him felt like shit over lying to Liv and shutting down his phone to cut him off for the night, but their friendship was the most precious thing in Knox’s life, and every step past the boundary of what it had been before yesterday felt like doom. There were many things he could risk, including himself. But not Liv. Never Liv.
“It’s my meds,” he mumbled, because he hated talking about it. “I’ve got this heart thing. Promise I’m not getting high.”
Cy watched him with calm interest, but the hold of his fingers loosened, and Knox swallowed the pill dry.
“You can have beer?” he asked, showing him a full bottle.
Knox smiled, hoping the scratch on his face wasn’t too off-putting. “Yeah, just shouldn’t smoke.” He wanted to add, ‘around Liv’, because Liv was the one who always worried about it, as if Knox was some precious porcelain doll. But he wasn’t born yesterday. If he wanted to flirt with Cy, the topic of Liv wasn’t on the agenda. “Then again… what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” He winked at Cy and grabbed the beer.
“Doubt being beaten up by those four would have made you any stronger. You aren’t one for strategy, are you?” Cy asked, starting to walk toward an area where lots of Harley Davidsons were parked in a row, like soldiers ready for action.
Knox sighed and followed his lead. He should be offended, but he deserved that one. “Thanks for saving my ass. Dude pissed me off.”
When he ran his hand through his hair, it became obvious he’d lost his hairband in the process. Fuck. He just hoped the loose hair didn’t make him look too girly. His dad used to call him doll face when it got too long. He could have cut it short of course, but he did like it that way, so as a compromise with himself, he wore it in a short ponytail most of the time.
“I could sense that,” Cy said and leaned against a massive black chopper, which likely belonged to him. He looked right at home next to it. “You often get so temperamental?”
Knox shrugged, itching to touch the motorcycle, so he stood closer. “What can I say? I’m a loose cannon. I just saw the way that dude swerved at the end of the race, and it pissed me off.”
Despite the casual nature of the conversation, he couldn’t stop assessing Cyborg from his steel toe cap boots, to the tidy crew cut with tattoos crawling right under the fade at the sides of his head. He seemed quite polished with his cargo pants tucked into his boots, and the tight black T-shirt with no pattern worn under the vest with club colors.
But was Knox ready to fuck him? And how would that even work? Would they be sucking each other’s dicks first? Did he want a guy’s hands on him? If he needed to ask himself those questions, then maybe he wasn’t that gay. On the other hand, he could just be getting cold feet because shit was getting too real. This dude was massive, had a presence that made people step out of his way, and he probably wanted an easy fling. The solution was for Knox to bullshit his way through this, avoid telling him that he’d never before had sex with another guy, and just take whatever Cy had to give. But what if he decided it wasn’t for him after all? It wasn’t like he could back out mid-fuck. Not with this guy.
“There will be other races. We plan a big one in December, complete with a neat sum of money for the winner,” Cy said, sipping his beer while his gaze trailed down Knox’s body without an ounce of shame.
“Anyone can enter?” Knox gulped down half his beer for courage. “Don’t wanna brag, but I’ve got experience with racing cars.” Don’t talk about Liv. Don’t add that he’s a great driver. “Is this your bike?” he asked about the pristine Harley and stepped closer.
“You may touch it. A prospect polished it just a few hours ago,” Cy said in a tone that went straight to Knox’s dick, because it sounded like an invitation to touching something much warmer than metal.