Embarrassed, Dylan let his hands come to rest on August’s leather-clad back. His jacket was smooth and buttery soft to the touch, and Dylan could feel the muscles of his back flexing and shifting beneath the leather.
August shuddered, like the feeling of Dylan’s hands on his shoulder blades was the best thing he’d ever felt.
“You have to stop or I’m going to come,” Dylan warned, breathless and flushed. August was practically lifting him out of his seat in his effort to push his face deeper into his taint.
“August,” Ryker warned from the front seat. “Control yourself.”
August trembled, his arm tightening around Dylan’s waist before he let go and sat up. He wiped his mouth and leaned back, spreading his legs wide and looking very satisfied. He turned his head and shot Dylan a cocky grin.
“That was fun.” He reached over and put his hand on Dylan’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. “How was your weekend?”
Dylan laughed. He was still throbbing hard and tingling all over, and the shift to normal conversation was jarringly hilarious.
“It was good. I got a lot of work done, and I watched some TV. Nothing special. What about you?”
August shrugged. “Nothing special. I worked out, watched some TV, and then I went for a hike on Sunday.” He put his hand on his bulge. “I jerked off in the woods thinking about you.”
“That’s nice.”
Dylan immediately regretted the reply. He needed to come up with a different word to describe things. If he kept saying that things wereniceAugust and Ryker were going to think he was an idiot.
“What about you?” he asked, looking toward the front seat. “What did you do, Ryker?”
“Did some work, worked out, and went out to eat with some lawyers we hired to litigate a case for us.”
Dylan frowned. He thought Ryker was a lawyer. “Do you not have enough lawyers?”
“We do, but litigation is its own thing. We hire outside firms who specialize in it whenever we have to go to court.”
Dylan realized that he didn’t have a clue what the business world was like.
“So what were you working on?” August asked, his hand still wrapped around the upper part of Dylan’s thigh.
“My thesis. I’m doing a project on 3D printing of prosthetics. My professor works for a medical device company and they’re sponsoring it.”
“You get paid?” Ryker prompted.
Dylan nodded.
“Good boy.”
The rumbling, approving way Ryker delivered the complement set Dylan’s face on fire.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, his face feeling hot.
“Praise kink, huh?” August said, squeezing down on his thigh. “You didn’t mention that.”
Dylan lifted his arm and hid his face in the crook of his elbow. He whimpered. “I didn’tknow.”
August and Ryker both chuckled, and Dylan waited until his face didn’t feel so hot before lowering his arm.
He stared down at his lap, willing his hard-on to go down despite August’s hand resting just a few inches away from his bulge.
“I see a parking spot,” August suddenly said.
Dylan looked out the window, recognizing the street they were on. He’d had dinner with his parents not far from here the last time they visited.
They would freak out if they saw him now, sitting in a car with two werewolves who made no effort to hide the fact that they both wanted to fuck him silly.
