Scott grinned, not looking embarrassed at all. He really was such a spoiled little shit.
“You’re so shameless in your assholery,” Cam said, rolling his eyes.
Scott shook his head. “It’s not about you,” he murmured, his lips brushing Cam’s ear. “I want to get into his pants and I can’t do that if he keeps looking at you like he wants to ride your dick.”
“Hmm. Sorry, but after you cockblocked me, I’m not feeling very sympathetic. If I’m not getting any, neither are you.”
Scott’s full lips folded into a pout. Cam dragged his eyes away, grimacing inwardly when he felt his cock twitch. It was just a Pavlovian reaction at this point. Scott’s lips. Orgasms.
“You’re the asshole here,” Scott said, lifting his hand to fix the top button of Cam’s shirt. “Stop looking so good and seducing all the gays. Leave some of them to us.”
Cam snorted. “As if you’d have trouble picking anyone up with a mouth like yours.”
The aforementioned mouth curled into a smug little smile.
A cough made Cam tear his gaze away.
Right. Roy.
The guy was looking at them with sharp, bright eyes. They were gleaming with interest.
“You two wanna get out of here?” he murmured, with a coy smile.
Cam went still, and so did Scott.
“He’s straight,” Scott said sharply. “He’s not interested.”
Roy hummed before shrugging. “I’m here with a friend. She’d love to join us.” He waved over a blonde woman. She wasstunning, with a beautiful hourglass figure and a softness to her curves. She was objectively very attractive.
Cam looked at Scott.
Scott was frowning, chewing on his lip. He tilted his head, a clear question in his eyes. “Up to you,” he murmured, his voice stiff. “Could be fun.”
It would be a lie if Cam said he’d never had group sex—he’d done plenty of partying during his early years in Formula One. Granted, the group sex he’d participated in had been heavily weighted toward women, but he’d once double-teamed a woman with a mate. It had been fun enough. Watching other people have sex was hot.
Except.
He didn’t really want to watch Scott fuck that pretty boy.
Or touch him at all.
“Hey, I’m Chantelle,” Roy’s friend said, her French accent very charming as she leaned in to kiss Cam’s cheeks in that unassuming way only the French could pull off. She was more subtle about her once-over than Roy, but her interest was unmistakable. Her hand lingered on Cam’s chest.
Scott’s grip on Cam’s wrist tightened. “Give us a sec,” he told them with another unnaturally bright smile before pulling Cam aside.
“I’ve changed my mind—I don’t want to do it,” he said, his expression tight. “Who knows if they’re even clean! It’s unsanitary and dangerous—pretty sure there was herpes on her lip under all that red lipstick.”
Cam stared at him. “Was there.”
Scott nodded with a sullen look, his stunning eyes flashing with dislike. “Why do you need to fuck some chick anyway? You have m—” He cut himself off, averting his gaze. “I’ve been helping you out, haven’t I?”
Helping him out.
Was that what they were calling it now?
Cam’s smile felt more like a grimace because of the sudden rush of blood to his cock. “Yes,” he said in a clipped voice. “But we can’t—” Glancing around, he lowered his voice. “I can’t keep doing it with you, Scotty—things have been getting too weird. We both know it.”
Something flickered in Scott’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said tersely, a wrinkle forming between his brows. “I just don’t think you should have sex with her.”
