The Hotshot

by Myra Scott

  “Are you ready for me?” Luke asked, his voice low and gravelly with need.

  “Fuck me. Do it. Please,” I managed to choke out.

  CHAPTER EIGHT - LUKE

  “Gladly,” I grunted.

  Saliva was one thing, but I wanted to give this guy everything he needed to feel. Some liked it rough, but there would be time for that later. I wasn’t about to scare the guy off.

  I kept a spare, travel-sized tube of lube in the console of my car. I reached into it and squirted a little into my hand to coat my condom-covered cock. In my warm hand, it pulsed and throbbed with need, and I felt more needy and ready to burst than ever.

  Reaching for his hips, I held them tight in my hands after my cock was lubed up and shining in what precious little light made its way into the back of the car. I felt like I was about to fuck a tall, rugged shadow, it was so hard to see him. That added to the thrill, though. I was used to seeing dozens of faces in the light of my apartment or theirs, but this was something new.

  Regardless, I was going to make sure my mystery man didn’t forget about me.

  Whether he wanted to or not.

  I positioned my cock on his tight hole, and I felt his body shudder before I’d even entered him. I ran my hands around his hips, groping his ass and feeling his quivering muscles under me as my crown bulged with desire.

  “Tell me how much you want this,” I growled, sliding my hand around to his front and wrapping my warm hand around the thick trunk of his cock. I gave it a warning squeeze to let him know what he was getting into, and it pulsed in response.

  “I need it,” he let out in a thick huff that sent a shiver up my body. “I knew I needed it from the second you walked into the club.”

  “Have you worked hard for it?”

  “I’ll work even harder for you, if you ask nicely,” he said back, and even he sounded surprised at the boldness of his tone.

  I grinned, and I felt desire well up inside me so much that it was ripe for plucking. “I knew you’d be fun,” I mused, and I slowly penetrated each tight ring of muscle.

  My cock sank deep into him, and the sound of his groan filling my car was music to my ears. Meanwhile, while I thrust into him, he thrust me into heaven.

  This guy was an enigma. This couldn’t have been his first rodeo, he seemed to know what he was doing too well for that. But his ass was so tight and fit around my cock so perfectly that I thought it had been made just for me. I glided into him with hardly any friction, just the feeling of my swollen cock filling up every inch of space it occupied.

  I started slow at first, working in just a few inches at a time as I rocked back and forth gently. Each time, the rim of his asshole sent shivers of pleasure through my body. It was a ring of fire that I was thrusting into, and it warmed my whole body in ways that were new even for me.

  He stayed relaxed as I worked faster. I wanted him to feel everything I had, if he could handle it.

  And in my experience, that was a big if, because I had a lot to handle.

  But no matter how much I put into Casey, the more he took in, and he relished it. I could tell by the grunts coming from him every time I went a little deeper, and I knew he was fighting to keep from clenching like his body wanted to. Everything about him was so fresh and ripe that I wanted to take my time and explore every part of him, slowly and sensuously.

  But part of the excitement was how fast and thrilling this all was, so I didn’t hold back any more than was necessary.

  It didn’t take long for me to work nearly my whole shaft’s length into him, as I pushed more forcefully.

  My hips started rocking back and forth, thrusting in and out of him freely. Feeling his asshole roll up and down my shaft was pure bliss.

  “Fuck,” I growled, “you’re good. Dangerously good.”

  “Dangerous?” he panted, turning his head slightly but not turning it around far enough to face me.

  “Yeah,” I grunted, pounding into him harder and harder. “If you’re too good, I might just have to keep you around.”

  I thrust harder and harder into him, gaining steam with every new arc. My heavy balls swung under him, and I was starting to feel tight in the groin. Everything in me wanted to empty myself into him.

  I rutted into him like we were born to do this. Bit by bit, I felt my stress and tension shredding away, even as pressure built up inside me.

  “I want to come in you,” I snarled. “I want you to feel me filling you up hard and fast. But I want you to come for me first.”

  “Ohhh, god!” he moaned, gripping the seat tight. The poor man was fighting to hold himself up through all this, but his body was hardened and muscular. The feeling of my cock in him was rendering him helpless, but he was making it work—impressively so.

  He arched his back further for me, and he pushed himself up into a steadier position. He grunted and moaned each time I pistoned into him, and knew he was feeling the same turgid readiness that I felt through my whole body.

  I ran my hands up and down his muscular body, feeling that thick hardness that made up his physique. This guy was exquisite. I didn’t know how else to put it. I’d had plenty of guys before, but the way this man’s body felt, such a powerful force that I could drive into so hard and fast... it was amazing.

  He was amazing.

  And I needed more.

  “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, and his whole body was telling me the same thing. I could feel it like waves welling up and getting ready to crash, and when it did, I wanted to do it with him.

  “That’s right, you are,” I growled, and I slapped him on the ass so hard I thought people outside might have been able to hear the sound if they were close enough. With that, I thrust up into him deeper than before, grinding against his inner depths and teasing his prostate viciously.

  And at that, he gave a ragged groan, and I knew he was spilling over the edge.

  But I didn’t let up.

  I kept pushing into him until I felt my body losing control, and soon, I lost my rhythm. No longer was I a precise machine fucking him with utmost skill—I was just an animal rutting into him with reckless abandon as I felt my cock go tense as if it was wound up tight, about to be plucked.

  And together, we let out harsh groans that filled the SUV as we started to cum together.

  Shot after shot of my white hot seed filled the condom buried deep in his ass, and I felt him clenching to guide me through it while I held him up. We were working together in perfect harmony, even in the throes of our orgasms.

  When no more could pump out of my swollen balls, I slowed down, but I was still stiff as a rock inside him. He was panting along with me, both of us on the verge of collapsing right there in the back seat.

  The next second, I felt a smile tugging at my lips, and I rubbed his hips affectionately.

  “Goddamn,” I growled, reaching down and massaging his heavy, satisfied balls. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “You’re one to talk,” he said through a ragged, husky breath. He gave a low hiss as I slowly pulled out of him, taking my time and making sure to get a few more pulses of bliss out of him as I exited him.

  I cleaned up quickly, and that left the two of us sitting there in the darkness, indecently and deliciously satisfied.

  We didn’t say anything for a while. He was silent as I cleaned up, and when I finished, I looked up at him and saw him sitting up, watching me carefully.

  “What’s on your mind?” I asked, but I could sense the nervousness building up in him again.

  “Oh, nothing, I just…” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck adorably and giving me a crooked smile. “I wasn’t expecting that. That was—I mean, not to make it awkward, but I don’t do this much, so—”

  I interrupted him by leaning forward and kissing him on the lips, a deep, hungry kiss that t
old him just how much I enjoyed it.

  “Wasn’t expecting this good a time?” I finished for him with a cocky smile. “Neither was I, so don’t feel too awkward.”

  I didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing, and he chuckled a little, but he was on edge. I could feel it in the air.

  “If you don’t believe me,” I said, scratching my chin, “why don’t we head back to my place for a little dessert? I’ve got some Irish Cream with our names on it, and after that, maybe I can show you a thing or two in a space where we’ve got some room to move around.”

  Every one of my words was laced with desire, dripping with need. I wanted to have him again. I never did that, and I didn’t want him to know that just yet, but I wanted more of this guy. A lot more.

  He bit his lip.

  “Maybe a shower, while we’re at it,” I offered. “You seem like the kind of guy who could use a good time. I know there’s more tension in there. I could feel it.”

  “I…” he said, and in that instant, I knew it was over.

  My heart sank, but I wasn’t going to try to stop whatever came next. He was too nervous, and everything in his body language showed it.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said quickly yet firmly. He put his hand on the car door handle, then looked back at me one last time. “I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t reply. Still giving him that cocksure smile, I just nodded.

  “Do what you’ve got to do,” I said.

  With that, the scarred hunk climbed out of my car and hurried off, leaving me in the darkness alone. I sat there for a long while, watching him go until he was out of sight.

  The scent of him was still in the car.

  It wasn’t often that I met men who intrigued me as much as him. Hot as hell, arms thick as tree trunks, nervous as a virgin, and bashful as someone in the closet. He was a puzzle.

  It had been a while since I’d had a good puzzle.

  But I wasn’t going to stop him if he wanted out. I wasn’t desperate, and he was an adult who could make his own choices.

  Sighing, I climbed into the front seat and got my keys out. Even stone cold sober, I still felt almost dizzy from the rush just a few minutes ago.

  Just one thing was certain, though.

  I had a feeling things weren’t over between me and the mystery man.

  One way or another, we’d run into each other again, and I was very interested to know what he’d do the next time he was in my hands.

  CHAPTER NINE – CASEY

  I was still recovering from the embarrassment of what I had done a few nights ago. Today, it was a rainy, gray sort of day and I had been up since the crack of dawn just puttering around my tiny studio apartment, trying to figure out what the hell I could do to fill the time and keep my mind from going too crazy. Every moment that I didn’t fill with activity was immediately swarmed with negative thoughts, one part of my brain scolding and lecturing the other part about how stupid it was for letting a guy like Luke get so close to me. For letting my guard all the way down and following some handsome, sexy stranger out of the club and into his car.

  After all, wasn’t that the number one rule that had been drilled into my head when I was a little kid? Don’t get into a car with a stranger. Especially not after you had been drinking, when your boundaries were low and your inhibitions loosey-goosey. I had broken a lot of the rules the other night—rules taught to me as well as the rules I had half-consciously established for myself. I had let someone get very close. Too close. And now I was punishing myself by floating aimlessly around the apartment, beating myself up for allowing feelings to surface. Almost one whole entire emotion. That was way too much for me. Now I needed time to mope and be alone for a while, to recover from it.

  After dashing out of Luke’s SUV like a bat out of hell, I had bolted around the corner and run around the block a few times to clear my mind, not quite sober or ready yet to get in my own car and drive home from the club. I had let the cool autumn breeze give me goosebumps and remind me that there was an entire world outside. I had stared up at the bright neon lights of the city, surrounding me on all sides, and thought about how packed the city was. Full to the brim with total strangers. Travelers. People coming from far and wide to let their hair down and pretend like there were no rules.

  Las Vegas was the perfect city for making big, beautiful mistakes, and it had actually comforted me a little bit to think that there were countless other people doing equally stupid shit as what I had just done. Not that I could accept my actions as being okay under any circumstances. I just simply was not the kind of guy who could go have a one-night stand with a random man and then brush myself off and go back to what I was before.

  No, my time with Luke, however short and unplanned, had altered me in some way. Now I was standing in the elevator of my apartment complex, heading downward to the community gym, hoping that if I worked out hard enough, maybe I could sweat out the memories of the other night and be a normal version of myself again. I just needed to distract myself. Desperately. And a little pain would be a great substitute for work, wouldn’t it?

  The doors shuttered open, and I strode into the gym, looking around a little nervously. I was definitely not in the mood to deal with the stares and questions of other people. Perhaps it was just because I was admittedly pretty well-built and muscular, but it seemed like half the time when I came down here, I would end up accosted by some scrawny young guy asking for workout tips. Even when I brought my earbuds and listened to music, which you’d think would indicate that I wanted to be left alone, people still tended to try and talk to me.

  Apart from the annoyance of having to dole out free advice to some upstart who was definitely too lazy to actually follow it, I hated having someone gawk rudely at my scar under these harsh fluorescent lights. I had never been a particularly vain man, of course, even back when I was a new firefighter and constantly being ogled at emergency calls by men and women alike. Long before I got this horrible jagged scar, I had already been uncomfortable at being looked at that way. I just could never figure out the appropriate way to react. I was shy, even back then, even in high school when I was the star player of my football team. The story of my life seemed to be that I just wanted to be left alone in peace, and people just could not let me have that for some reason.

  I wondered sometimes if maybe I had just inherited my mom’s inherent likability or something. Growing up, it had always been annoying to go grocery shopping or to the park with my mom because everywhere we went, we ran into friends of hers. People just flocked to her, chatting with her for hours while I stood awkwardly waiting to go home. I couldn’t blame my mom for that, of course, especially since my father had never been much of a talker, and she had probably gotten pretty bored at times.

  My dad was another story entirely. People looked up to him, referred to him with respect and even a little awe sometimes, when they talked about him. He was the strong, stoic type that seemed to strike both fear and appreciation into people’s hearts. They had been a funny pair, my parents: my mom, the chatty, over-friendly busybody; and my dad, the tight-lipped, traditional tough guy.

  Sometimes it felt like I was a dysfunctional mix of the two. I had my dad’s temperament and desire to be left to my own devices, but I had my mom’s calming and inviting aura. Or something like that.

  “Damn, I need something else to think about,” I grumbled out loud to myself as I walked over to the weightlifting section of the gym. I was pleased to have found the gym totally empty, probably as a result of the early hour. It was a Sunday morning, and most of my neighbors were probably still sleeping. A lot of them would get up in an hour or so to get ready for church, and still others would roll out of bed late for brunch. I remembered Chief’s words to me about taking time to go to brunch. I wrinkled my nose and began lifting weights, thinking to myself that if he thought I was the kind of man who would shell out
serious money just for the privilege of eating eggs benedict at one in the afternoon, he didn’t really know me very well at all.

  But he did know me. He had known me since I was born, actually. And honestly, judging by my actions the other night… did I really even know myself?

  An annoying, unasked-for thought intruded into the forefront of my mind: you would go to brunch happily if you could go there with Luke.

  “God damn it,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Get out of my head already.”

  It was a good thing nobody else was around at the moment. The last thing I needed was for one of my nosy neighbors to catch me talking to myself while curling barbells. It hadn’t even been more than a couple days, and I was already talking to myself. How the hell was I supposed to survive an entire two weeks off from work? By the time Chief was willing to let me clock back in, I would probably have lost every shred of sanity I had in the first place. I spent the next hour and a half working out, getting sweaty and achy all over, which was just what I needed. To be so sore and exhausted that my brain didn’t have energy left to wander very far.

  When I was satisfied with my workout, I showered off and headed back upstairs to my apartment. I got dressed and walked into my kitchen, checking the time on the oven. It was barely nine in the morning, and I was already running out of stuff to do. I pulled open one of my kitchen cupboards and took out my flimsy, well-worn recipe book. It was full of tried-and-true recipes as well as some recipes that still needed tweaking. I flipped toward the back of the book to find one of the latter type. I wanted to embark on the kind of culinary adventure that would require a lot of focus. Something to keep my mind busy.