13. Brayden

"Stop looking at me like that," I scold Carson, who's just too damn happy right now, grinning in my direction and not bothered by my angry tone. Okay, it wasn't all that angry. I think I may have even smiled a little bit when I said it.

"Like what?" He's ready for the race, already dressed in his black jumpsuit. I hear engines firing up all around us, and damn it, part of me wants to kiss that stupid smile off his face.

This is so not good.

We fell asleep on the couch together this weekend after our hookup. And instead of making him go home when we woke up at two in the morning with his drool on my arm, I brought him to my bed.

We got off again, grinding together until we were covered in sweat and cum. We took a shower together, where I blew him, making him come for the third time that night before we passed out.

You'd think the next morning would have been awkward, but it wasn't. It was easy and simple. We made coffee and grabbed the protein bars he teased me about for breakfast before he left to go pack. Then we met at the airport and boarded a plane to North Carolina.

That was yesterday, and so far, it hasn't been weird.

It's been business as usual, getting ready for today's race, but now he's looking at me like I'm naked and we aren't surrounded by thousands of people. "Like you've seen my dick," I growl, making sure no one around us can hear me.

His grin only widens, the little shit. "Oh, but what a pretty dick."

"Stop that," I say, but it's not convincing at all.

"Can't help it," he says in that sultry voice, and I know I'm fucked.

"You need to focus," I say seriously, nodding toward the track. "I mean it."

"Don't worry about me. I'm a professional," he says, but I am worried. I hate that. I shouldn't have hooked up with him. I know that. But it was too damn hard to resist. It's been far too long since I've had sex with a man—or anyone—and I wanted it.

And it was good.

Way too damn good. But there has to be a line. I know that. I'm not his boyfriend. He's not mine to protect. But he is a rookie, and I am the ace. I know what I'm talking about, and since Miles made it my job to teach him, I need him to be safe out there.

That's all this is about.

Not sex.

"I mean it. Nothing stupid. Don't take huge risks. You don't have to be a hotshot out there to get attention. You're the new guy. They're already interested in you because of that."

He frowns, and damn it, he looks cute. "When the hell are they going to respect me?"

He says they, but I hear the unspoken you there. And the truth is I know he's a good racer, but he's green. He'll need a few more years before he'll be at the top of his game. And if he'll listen to me, he'll do great things.

"Just do what I'm telling you, and you'll get there."

He pouts but then tugs his helmet on. "Fine. No fun."

I roll my eyes and grab my helmet, smacking him on top of his playfully. "You can have fun but not be stupid."

"You can have more fun when you're being stupid," he says, and I laugh, wrapping my arm around him—you know, for show—and then heading out to our cars.

The engines start, and the race goes on as scheduled. But the entire time, it's really damn hard not to think about that pliant body under mine as I thrust into him. It was a fucking high as much as this race is.

Being inside Carson may have been a mistake because I can feel myself growing addicted.

Yeah, this is a damn problem already. I feel it. But I can't seem to stop it as my back hits the wall of the hotel, and I grunt, my lips attacking Carson's. I got third place. He got tenth.

It was a pretty good day, and I guess we're celebrating.

That's all this is.

"We need a shower." It was hot as fuck in those cars, and we're both sweaty and dirty.

He just licks up my neck and then kisses me hard, not bothered at all. I don't seem to be either, with the way I'm attacking his mouth like I'm starved for it.

This is a bad idea.

I can't seem to peel my lips off him though as we make our way to the bathroom in my hotel room. I turn on the spray, and I'm thankful it's a large, luxurious shower. I remember the days when I first started, and the hotels were shitty.

We get naked in record time and climb into the shower, letting the spray rain down over us. My muscles ache, and the water feels good, but not nearly as good as Carson's hands and mouth all over me.

I nearly come when he drops to his knees, looking up at me with those pretty eyes as he wraps a hand around my cock and starts to stroke, teasing the head with his tongue.

"I am so fucked."

He chuckles at that. "Not yet. Someday." He winks up at me, and I shake my head but can't scold him because he's swallowing me whole.

"Holy. Fuck."

I feel him smiling around my engorged cock, but it all feels too damn good to be annoyed. He works me over expertly, switching between licking and sucking. Driving me totally crazy, while my body is threaded with need.

It's not long before I'm spilling down his throat, then returning the favor when he stands up and I kneel on the shower floor. He's not as long or thick as me, but he still has an absolutely gorgeous cock. It fills my mouth beautifully as I suck him off, reaching around to play with his hole until he's screaming my name and spurts of cum hit the back of my throat.

I swallow it all, tasting him and relishing every drop before I stand up and kiss him hard on the mouth.

We stay like that for a while, just kissing and groping like we can't get enough before we scrub up and rinse off.

We dry off but both walk fully naked back to the bed, falling onto it. My body is drained after the race and the shower sex, but of course, Carson seems energetic and ready to go.

"We should go out."

"Out?" I say lifting my head and looking at him like he's insane. He's rolled to his side, facing me, his head propped up on his hand.

"Yeah. Go eat or something."

"We could order in."

He grins, the smile a little crooked and mischievous. "You ashamed to be seen with me?" he teases.

"Always."

He laughs and hits me with a pillow. "It's early. And we're supposed to be seen out together a lot. We're besties, remember?"

I laugh. But yeah, it's true. "No clubs," I say with a heavy sigh and sit up.

"Fine, old man. Nothing with loud music."

"Damn young'uns," I joke, and he laughs. It's a beautiful, easy laugh. Funny how it doesn't seem to annoy me.

Must be the orgasm.