“Ohmy…ohmygod,” Connor breathes, matching my rhythm with his hips. I stand completely still for a few seconds, watching in awe as he fucks himself using my cock and my hand, until my growing need for release consumes me.
Guiding his own hand to his erection, I place both of my hands on his hips, gripping hard as I pound into him, relentlessly.
“Are you gonna come with me, baby?” I manage to ask Connor.
“I’m alr-already…oh…fuck,Vox…yes.”
God, I love his staccato syllables when he comes.
With a roar, I explode inside him. Wave after hot wave of pleasure tears through me as I hold on to Connor for dear life.
“I canfeelthat,” he says as his ass causes aftershocks to ripple through me. “I canfeelthe head of your cock swelling inside me. Shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he says, his arms giving out as he lays his heaving chest on the island.
I place kisses along his spine, rubbing circles into his hips where I’m sure he’ll bear a different kind of mark from me tomorrow.
“Thank you,” I whisper, resting my cheek against his warm back.
“I think that was for both of our benefit,” he says, making me smile.
“Let me clean you up.”
I slip from his body, but keep him bent over the island just to watch the evidence of my orgasm leak from him.
My energy drains from me with every drop of cum that hits the floor.
After cleaning Connor, the floor, and myself, I’m tootired for a full meal. My arms feel heavy, and I just want to slip under the covers and hold Connor close to me.
“What are you thinking?” he whispers.
“How much I just want to shut the world out and drift to sleep with my head on your chest.”
“Four more days, hotshot,” he tells me. “Four days until the competition, and then we don’t have to hide, and you can fall asleep in my arms every night.”
Four more days.
Chapter 36
Connor
Two days later, emotions are running high. The team is excited and nervous, and I can’t help but notice Vox is pulling back from them. It’s hard being a championanda team player. Plus, I know he’s got a lot on his mind.
I get it.
I’m on my way to base village, gearing up for our last practice run before the big event, when I’m approached by a man in khaki cargo pants and a button-down. He looks like a cross between a boarder and a businessman. Something about him feels familiar. The way he’s eyeing my Patterson Performance jacket warily makes it click.
It’s the same man I saw standing just outside the media tent on the day of the time trials. The man who was watching Grey and Vox.
He offers me a nervous smile as he casually asks what slope the team is practicing on today.
I know the second this man opens his mouth that he’s Vox’sdad. He has the same voice, just a little more gravelly from age and probably smoking a few things over the years.
Instantly, I’m on high alert. I think about calling Grey, but I can’t help my curiosity, and I’m still not convinced Grey isn’t shady as fuck when it comes to Vox. Perhaps I can learn why this man is choosing now to disrupt his son’s life.
“It’s a closed course,” is all I say, waiting for him to give me more.
“Do you know if they’ll be running any more open courses before the event?”
“Today’s their last practice.”
