Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Cam: You can’t be serious. I’m not going to jerk off to send you a dick pic. That would be weird.
Scott wondered whether he should tell him that sending the picture of his half-hard cock to a gay friend was plenty weird already, but eventually he decided against it. He didn’t want Cam to freak out over nothing. And this was nothing. A normal late-night conversation between buddies.
Scott: Don’t be a pussy. Come on. For science. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Cam: Whatever gave you an idea that I want to see your dick? You should’ve threatened to show it if I didn’t show you mine.
Scott: If my ego were more fragile, you’d have crushed it.
Cam: Good thing it isn’t, then.
Scott: OK, send a dick pic or you’ll get mine. I’m serious.
For a long moment, Cam didn’t answer.
Then a picture popped up.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Scott stared at the thick, long, veiny cock in Cam’s hand and had to lick his suddenly dry lips. Wow. Just wow. Although Scott obviously wasn’t a size queen himself, he knew plenty of gay men who were, who loved nothing more than a big dick in both of their holes. A cock like that would drive them crazy. They would slobber all over it like they were possessed, lick the vein on the underside before sucking on the red, fat head. They would put it into their mouths and try to take all of it, even though it would be too much—
Scott moaned, stroking his cock faster. Fuck. Fuuuck.
He came into his hand and fell back against the couch, still breathing heavily.
Wiping the mess on his hand against his shirt, he reached for his phone again.
Scott: Nice. Though it’s closer to 8.4 in my expert opinion.
Cam sent him a middle finger emoji.
Scott grinned. God, he adored that guy.
***
“Texting a new boyfriend?”
Scott rolled his eyes at his cousin’s remark. Will was as annoying as Cam when it came to mocking his romantic life. More annoying, actually. Cam’s mocking felt far more tolerable for some reason.
“No,” Scott said. “A friend.”
Will’s eyebrows flew up. “Really? You’ve been grinning stupidly for minutes.”
Scott froze, surprised. He had been?
“If you don’t have friends who make you smile, I feel sad for you, man. By the way, how is your jailbait?”
Will glared at him without much heat. “Gadiel is good.”
“If you want some tips on how to fuck him, you know who to ask,” Scott said, earning a kick to his shin. “Hey!”
“Dickhead,” Will said, but he sounded fond, and Scott returned his eyes to his phone.
Cam texted him again.
Cam: Are you coming to the next race?
Scott: Why, are you asking me to come, Cameron Richter?
Cam: No.
Cam: But I could send you a VIP pass if you want.
“You’re smiling stupidly again,” Will said. “Who is that friend?”
Scott quickly wiped his smile. “Just a friend,” he said, shrugging and changing the subject. “So I met the cutest guy the other day…”
Chapter 7
Hungarian Grand Prix
What the hell was he wearing?
Cam watched Scott stroll through the paddock toward him. His outfit was... all white, which didn’t surprise Cam in this heat, but the shirt was basically an asymmetrical piece of loose fabric that gaped at the collar and barely reached his waist, leaving a strip of skin on display. Was this supposed to be fashionable?
Not that Scott didn’t look great or anything. He did. But with a face like that, he could make hospital scrubs look like high fashion.
“Hey!” Scott said, giving Cam a half-hug and slipping his sunglasses off as he grinned at him. “I forgot how unfairly handsome you were in the weeks I didn’t see you.”
Cam snorted. Reaching out, he plucked the sunglasses from Scott’s hand and slipped them on, sighing as his eyes finally found some relief from the relentless sun.
“Hey, those are mine,” Scott drawled with a pout, though he was smiling, his light eyes sparkling with mirth.
Christ, eyes like that were really wasted on a man.
“I’m sure you have four other pairs, Mr. Trust Fund Baby,” Cam said.
Scott laughed. “Okay, guilty as charged. But I’ll have to go back to my hotel for them.”
“Where are you staying this time?”
“We are staying at the Ritz-Carlton,” Scott said.
Cam frowned. “We?”
“Oh yeah,” Scott said. “Didn’t I tell you that I wasn’t coming alone this weekend?” He looked around and smiled, looking at something by Ferrari’s hospitality. “There he is. My new boyfriend.”
Cam followed his gaze until it stopped on a guy who was bothering Hunter for an autograph. He was short and slim, with a doll-like face and carefully styled blond hair.
“Your boyfriend?” Cam heard himself say.
“Yeah, Andy. We met last week. Gorgeous, isn’t he?”
Cam’s lips twisted. “He looks like a stereotypical gay twink.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Scott said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He clicked his tongue. “I see all the progress we made on your homophobia has gone down the drain in my absence.”