Together, they wait for Ingrid’s rideshare. When it finally arrives, Sam kisses her cheeks.
“Take good care of him,” she says.
“I’m trying.” Harder than he’s ever tried for anyone else before. “But he won’t let me. Your son is very stubborn.”
Sam backs up so Lucas can have his moment with her. They speak in quick German, so they’re either arguing or discussing the weather.
Lucas is somehow even sexier when he speaks German. His voice lowers, the syllables sound more rounded. It makes him seem intelligent in an unreachable way for a single-language guy like Sam.
When Ingrid’s car drives off, Sam says, “Thanks for inviting me out tonight.”
“Not a lot of these nights left until I retire.”
The reminder is an ice dagger to his chest. “Not with you, maybe, but I’ll keep coming back for the race every year. I’ll meet up with Ingrid with or without you.”
“Shut up.” Despite his stern tone, Lucas laughs.
“You need a daddy? I could be that.”
“Shutup!” The best sex starts with laughter.
“We can make you a couple of siblings…”
Lucas nearly trips over himself to cover Sam’s mouth. Unfortunately for him, Sam is a disgusting degenerate who isn’t afraid of germs. He licks Lucas’s palm—slobbering all over it—until the older man yelps and yanks it back.
Lucas wipes his hand on his pants, his face pulled up into a grimace. “You are too much.”
Sam’s heard it a million times before, but this time it kinda smarts. The copper taste of Lucas’s skin lingers in his mouth. His first taste of him. Possibly the only taste he’ll ever have.
“Come back to the hotel with me?” Lucas has his phone out and open to his driver’s contact.
Sam had planned to go out clubbing—Germany is known for it, after all—but the way Lucas is studying him seems almost coy. Almost flirty.
Is he suggesting what Sam thinks he’s suggesting?
He nods, and Lucas turns away to send the text.
Sam wants to ask what Lucas wants from him—his mouth? His cock? Just cuddles?—but this thing between them is fragile. He doesn’t want to apply any additional pressure.
Sam’s good at going with the flow. He can go with so many flows. Different types, different speeds, different depths.
Though the streets are full, Wayne must’ve parked nearby. Itisn’t long before a black SUV with its hazards on pulls up to the curve.
“Have a nice time?” Wayne rounds the front of the car and opens the door for them, eyeing Sam with distrust.
“Yes, thank you.” Lucas climbs in first and Sam shamelessly watches his ass as he shimmies over to the furthest seat.
Wayne's voice is gruff when he prods, “Samuel?”
“Yup, me too.”
Sam hops up and almost loses an arm when Wayne slams the door behind him. For some big, burly guy, he can be a little bitch.
Sam shoots off a text to his own driver, cancelling their original plan for the night, and settles back against the leather seat.
When they park in front of the hotel, Wayne opens Lucas’s door. Sam has to fumble his way over the seats and he stumbles away from the SUV when he miscalculates his footing.
Lucas hides a chuckle, but Sam’s alright with that. Clumsiness can be sexy if he laughs it off well enough.
