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)
Scott glanced back at the pretty guy but his body was already moving, allowing itself to be steered away. Infuriating. And more than a little baffling.
Sighing inwardly, Scott studied Cam curiously. There was visible tension around Cam’s eyes and jaw, his shoulders stiff.
“Hey, what’s up?” Scott said, his voice softening without him consciously meaning it to. “Is it because of FP3? I know you were just sixth, but it’s called free practice for a reason, right?”
Cam shot him a strange look before averting his gaze. “Yeah. But I had no grip. The car is all over the place. I’ll need a small miracle to put it on pole in an hour.”
Scott clicked his tongue sympathetically and frowned at the way Cam’s fingers were clenching. “You definitely won’t be putting it on pole if you don’t stop stressing over it. You’re practically vibrating, babe.”
“I know,” Cam ground out as they entered the McLaren hospitality.
“Maybe a short catnap before quali would help?” Scott suggested.
Cam shook his head jerkily. “I’m too wired up. I can’t sleep like this.” He paused, a muscle in his cheek flexing.
Scott frowned in confusion before he realized that Cam’s pupils were dilated and there was a noticeable bump in his crotch. “Seriously?” he choked out. “Now?”
Glancing around, Cam took Scott’s wrist and dragged him into the restroom they were passing. “It’s just tension and adrenaline,” he said stiffly. “Happens sometimes to drivers. It’s normal.”
Locking the restroom door, Cam sagged back against it, his jaw clenched tight, before he cursed under his breath and yanked his fly open. “I have to deal with this before quali.”
“Um,” Scott said, wide-eyed. “Shouldn’t I leave?”
Cam snorted. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.” His dark eyes gleamed with an emotion Scott couldn’t read. “It will be faster with you here anyway.” He pulled his black boxer briefs down and his cock sprang free, already hard.
Scott wet his lips with his tongue. Fuck. He’d known Cam was big—he’d touched this cock multiple times—but actually seeing it in daylight was a different matter entirely. It looked obscene like this. Thick. Hard. So fucking big.
As though in a trance, he watched his own hand reach out and wrap around Cam’s cock.
Cam sucked in a breath, his head falling back against the door, his dark eyes growing heavy-lidded.
Why are you doing this again? a voice yelled at the back of his mind. He hasn’t even asked you to do it!
But he wanted to do it. He needed to do it. That strange desire to please Cam and make him feel good was rearing its weird, ugly head again, and he started stroking Cam’s cock with long, greedy strokes. He wanted to make him come. He needed to make him come.
He half-expected Cam to close his eyes and pretend it was someone else jerking him off, but he did no such thing, his dark eyes fixed on Scott’s very male hand working his cock.
“You’re good at this,” Cam ground out after a while. “Very good.”
Scott nearly whimpered, the praise sending a jolt of arousal through him. Fuck, what the fuck. “I have a dick too,” he said lightly. “Of course I know how to handle one.”
Cam’s eyes flickered to the dick in question—currently straining Scott’s pants rather painfully. “You’re hard.”
Scott scoffed, hoping he wasn’t blushing. “I’m gay, dude. It’s completely normal to be a little turned on in this situation.” Granted, he was well past “a little turned on,” but that was splitting hairs.
Cam stared at Scott’s crotch intently, his expression unreadable.
“Pull it out,” he suddenly said.
Scott’s hand froze on his cock. “What—really?”
“It doesn’t look comfortable,” Cam said, his eyes gleaming with a strange emotion. “I’m not going to freak out just because you have your dick out.”
Scott didn’t have to be convinced—his pants were rather tight, and it was getting very uncomfortable. He unzipped his pants with his free hand and pulled his erection out. He sighed in relief and resumed jerking Cam off, the slick sounds of friction filling the bathroom.
Fuck, Cam leaked precome a lot. And his cockhead looked obscenely thick in his fist. Scott’s cock was pretty big too—he had nothing to be ashamed of in that department—but it was more modest in girth than Cam’s was. Seeing that fat cockhead peeking out of his fist was so damn filthy. Obscene. Scott couldn’t look away, transfixed by the sight.
Unconsciously, he started fondling his own cock too, but he didn’t have the coordination to move both of his hands. The solution was obvious.
Scott dropped to the floor.
“What—”
“I need my hand to jerk off,” Scott explained before wrapping his lips around that fat head.
Cam hissed, his hand immediately fisting Scott’s hair and yanking him forward onto his cock. So rude.
But Scott didn’t protest. They were kind of on a tight schedule, so whatever got Cam off faster was the best solution.