I rush off and I’m back before anyone. I feel great that I won this one, and I’m standing with my arms folded when the rest get back, but Ryder is nowhere to be seen. I frown and glare over to John, who doesn’t seem worried, and I start to pace. Where the fuck is he? Hecomes into view, and he’s taking his goddamn sweet time. I’m frustrated.
“About fucking time,” I spit as he walks towards us, and I flick my gaze to John and roll my eyes, thinking he’s thinking the same as me, that we have shit to do and things to get on with, but he looks at me with disappointment, and I frown in confusion.
John looks across us all. “Did any of you notice anything about the track?”
We all look at each other and shake our heads, and Ryder looks smug as fuck.
“Ryder?” John asks, and he nods.
Walking forward, he holds his hand out and drops something into John’s hand.
“Nice work.” He grins.
“Is that them all?” Ryder asks. John looks at his hand and nods, smirking at Ryder as he grins back.
“When we walk the track, it’s to memorise the layout, check for dangers, and make sure the track is safe not just for you but for everyone else. Next time, check better.”
We mount up and head to the starting line. We all climb on and line up. There’s a countdown screen, and when the buzzer goes, we go. Ryder pulls away faster than all of us but hangs out to the right-hand side of the track. One of the guys tries to come up the inside of him but hits a patch of loose shale and skids, taking one of the other bikes out. I brake hard before I dart over and follow Ryder as he pulls away. When he reaches the bend, he dives in tight, flinging his heel out and sliding the bike around the corner before accelerating off again.
I’m trying to keep up, but the bike’s slow as fuck, and it’s so cumbersome compared to mine. I can’t understand how Ryder is going so fast; the bike’s soheavy in comparison, and I’m struggling to get it to react how I want. It’s like trying to ride a freaking elephant, and I try to dig in harder, but Ryder’s larger, more muscular frame is all over it. He’s throwing it around like it weighs nothing; it's literally purring underneath him, and the more I push, the more he pulls away. Only four of us finish, and only Ryder finishes in a decent time. He made it look so easy.
We have a break and line up again. I’m knackered. It’s harder, this bike is a piece of shit, and if I had mine, I would be all over it. We set off again, and another one wipes out in the same place as the others, Ryders still riding like he’s riding fucking balloons and yet, here we are with concrete bikes. When I pull across the line in second, I’m miles back, and the other guy—Mouse, I think Ryder called him—comes in way behind, but he finishes, so I suppose that three of us out of six isn’t great.
We’re sent back to the hotel to clean up, and I storm in, pissed as fuck. Ryder’s not far behind me. As he walks through the door, I turn on him.
“You had a fucking advantage. You fucking cheated. How the fuck were you so fucking far ahead?”
“It’s called fucking stamina, dickhead. You can’t fucking rely on the bike to get you where you want to go. You have to learn to take it there. I didn’t fucking cheat. Some of us just work hard and have fucking talent.”
I shove him in the chest. “You fucked one of them, didn’t you?” I shove again. “You fucked your way into the team and onto the best bike.”
He shoves me against the wall, sliding his hand to my throat and slamming me back against it. I can’t help it, but heat flares. His face is so close to mine.
He smirks at me. “You can’t bear it that someone is more talented than you. I work fucking hard. I’ve never had anything fucking handed to me.”
He pushes me back again and turns to walk away. I shove him from behind, and he stumbles forward. He turns to look at me, but I shove him back harder, and his legs hit the bed, and he falls back onto it. I jump onto him and punch him in the mouth. I’m panting and straddling him.
I grip his throat, but it’s not as tight as he was holding me. He smirks, and his tongue flicks out and licks the slight speck of blood on his lip. I lose it. I crash my lips to his. I force my tongue between them and groan as he gasps and opens his mouth, letting me in. He kisses me back harder before I feel weightless as he sits up and tosses me onto my back and slides between my legs, diving back down and kissing me harder. He grinds his body against mine, and I’m so lost and breathless, I think I’m about to explode when he nips my lip. I groan. Fuck. I never imagined it would feel like this.
I reach up, clawing at his back and holding him against my body. He rocks against me, and the electricity that fires through my veins… I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t focus, but I give in to him. I claw at his shirt and pull it over his head, breaking the kiss for a split second before I’m on him again. I can’t get enough. I can feel the heat from his body, the material of my top chafes over my tight nipples, and I gasp at the multiple sensations. He reaches down and pulls up my t-shirt, and as he slides it over my head, he wraps it tight around my arms, holding them over my head and pinning me down before I can protest. His lips find my nipple, and he sucks it into his mouth and bites down on it, making me yell out. I try to buck free, but it just causes everything to brush against him, making me groan as I can feel his skin slide against mine, the heat of it, the smell of him, it’s all too much and not enough, and the words are out of my mouth before I can think straight. “Fuck me, please just fuck me.”
But that has the opposite effect as I go to kiss him. He pulls back and then sits up, panting. Blowing out a breath, he shakes his head, stepping away.
“Ryder? Please.”
“Arch, have you ever been with a guy before? Ever even kissed a guy?”
I know I flush; I can feel it, but I lean up on my elbows. “Please, Ryder. I just need…”
“Arch, I can’t be your first, I can’t. It’s too much… responsibility.”
He turns and walks into the bathroom. I follow him in. I can’t walk away from him. I’ve had a taste of what he could be like and what I could be like. That’s the most alive I’ve felt ever. I push in the bathroom after him, and he’s naked, leaning against the wall, head on his arm. I take the rest of my clothes off, and I tentatively step into the shower behind him. I slide my hand up his back and slide my hand around his front.
“Arch, what are you doing?”
“Just let me… please?” I slide my hand around his dick and fuck, it’s thick and hot, and I groan as I step closer to his back and press my dick against him. I slide my hand back and forth over his shaft, and I can’t think straight. I start to buck against his cheeks, and he growls.
“Be fucking careful, Arch. I don’t fucking bottom.”
