The Trainer (12 page)

Casey took both hands on either side of the jeans.

“Pull it,” Hunter said. Something in his voice was very dominate which only turned Casey on more.

He obeyed, pulling the tight jeans off, his hands sliding down Hunter’s sweaty muscular thighs to his hairy thick calves and down to his socks.

Hunter stood up as Casey went down on his knees. He swallowed hard at the sight of Casey kneeling there, head perfectly poised, as if ready to just open his mouth...

Casey kept his eyes down. He couldn’t look up, not knowing that Hunter was in a t-shirt and boxers. Boxers that housed a bulge that he was far too interested in. His face was in the perfect height to pull Hunter’s cock out and give him the blow job of his life. 
Jesus Christ,
Casey thought, fighting the urge.

He could smell Hunter’s aroma wafting down on him.

“Hey, Casey,” Hunter said, soft and masculine, his voice rumbling.

Casey swallowed, looking up.

“While you’re down there, can you get me off?”

“What?” Casey asked, his voice cracking. He flushed.

“I mean my socks. Can you get my socks off?” Hunter said. He tugged at his t-shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside.

“Sure,” Casey said.

“Should I sit down?”

“If you want.”

Hunter collapsed onto the couch and let out a moan. “Feels good,” he said.

He
looked
good. Those boxers, that body. Casey wanted to run his tongue over each and every tattoo. His legs opened as Casey removed his socks one by one. Casey knew it was a little kinky but he liked the sweaty smell of a real man’s feet.

For as masculine as he was, Hunter was good at keeping himself clean. The scent was intoxicating.

“Ow.” Hunter winced.

“What is it?” Casey paused.

“My legs are sore. Been riding too much, I guess,” he said.

“Where?” Casey asked. “Here?” He placed his warm hands onto Hunter’s legs and kneaded the knots he felt under the skin.

“Ooh. Yeah, right there. Thanks, man.” Hunter said, closing his eyes.

Casey massaged his calf up and down, just the way Hunter liked it. His hands travelled from his leg to his thighs.

“This all right?” Casey asked.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Hunter said, thrusting his crotch forward once again as he became more comfortable.

Casey threw himself into the massage, gripping and sliding, gripping and sliding.

“Hey Casey,” Hunter said.

“Yeah?” Casey responded.

“It’s a little dry. Got any oil?” Hunter suggested.

Oh, my God,
Casey thought. He was going to cream in his shorts. Everything Hunter said could be explained away as perfectly innocent, even while it brought forth some deliciously filthy alternative ideas.

“Sure,” Casey said. He looked around for lotion in the downstairs bathroom cabinet. Nothing.

Dammit.

He didn’t want to take the time to run upstairs and check too. He wasn’t sure how long this moment was going to last and he wanted to enjoy it while he could. There was something in the kitchen that could work. “All you’ve got is olive oil,” Casey said.

“Me? It’s our house now. It’s both of ours,” Hunter slurred.

Casey smiled at the thought as he hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the cupboard.

“Whatever works,” Hunter said, his head leaned back.

Casey fell back to his knees and flipped open the bottle of olive oil.  He poured it
on his hands, dripping down his wrists, as he worked his way from the back of Hunter’s calf to his thighs. Pressing and sliding, pressing and sliding.

Soon, Casey found his way to Hunter’s inner thighs.

“That good?” Casey asked.

“It’s okay. You can keep going, if you want,” Hunter said, breathing in.

Oh, he very much wanted to keep going. Casey started to move his hands into uncharted territory when a loud and familiar ringtone cut through the air. He froze.

Shit
.

“You wanna get that?” Hunter slurred. “Callin’ late. Might be important.”

“No.” Casey shook his head. He slid his hands back down Hunter’s legs. “It’s fine.”

“You should get it,” Hunter insisted as the phone continued to ring. “How do you know it’s not about your mom?”

Casey knew he could lie, but it wouldn’t be right. So even though the truth was going to ruin what they’d had going, he said it. “It’s McDermott’s ringtone.”

“Oh.” Hunter pushed himself up into a more upright position. “He still has his own ringtone.”

Casey sat back on his heels. “I just never took him out of my phone.”

Hunter nodded and stood. He swayed slightly, but caught himself. His voice was surprisingly sober sounding as he said, “You might wanna think about why that is, Casey.”

The phone stopped ringing, but Casey made no move towards it. All he could do was watching Hunter trudge towards the steps and then disappear upstairs, leaving Casey with that statement ringing in his ears and questions following after. Questions that were going to need answered, and soon.

To find out what happens next, click here

Other books by Jamie Lake

(
click below to view)

Marked for Love Book 1

Marked for Love Book 2

Bad Boy: Naughty at Night Book 1

Bad Boy: Naughty at Night Book 2

Stay Always Book 1

Boyfriend for Rent Book 1

The Trainer Book 2

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