Page 70 of Jackrabbit

He didn't.

Instead, he leaned and stretched his arms over his head as Beau went to replace the weights. And the bratty little shit waited right until Beau turned back around to spread his legs further, sliding down on the bench and letting his shorts ride up higher. They were so fucking tight that Beau could see exactly why Colt usually ran to the bathroom after this.

“See something you like, Beau?” Colt asked as he shifted his hips. Beau’s eyes stuck between Colt’s pretty thighs, and the shorts hid nothing. Colt’s dick twitched at Beau’s attention. “Because I sure like you looking.”

Beau tore his gaze away and picked up the harness to put in his bag. “Go home. We're done today.”

Colt slowly pulled himself to his feet, and Beau’s traitorous eyes raked down every inch of him—his shorts that had ridden higher, the flex of his quads, the visible outline of his cock that Colt wasn’t even attempting to hide today.

“Yes, sir.” Colt grabbed his bag and left.

Beau waited until the gym door closed before he let himself breathe. His hands were shaking, and he was half-hard. Forty-two goddamn years old. His control should be better than this.

He packed slowly so Colt had time to leave, and to give himself time to calm the fuck down. But when he stepped out into the parking lot, Colt was leaning against the driver’s side door of Beau’s truck with his arms crossed.

“Colt,” Beau warned, tossing his gym bag in the bed.

“Beau.”

The sun was setting through the storm clouds that had never opened up, the light slanting down soft and orange against Colt’s throat as he tipped his head back and regarded Beau with half-lidded eyes. Like a predator.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked.

“Well, I’ve been thinking.” Colt straightened and stepped closer, and even towering over him, Beau almost moved back. When he didn’t, Colt pressed the tips of his fingers on Beau’s wrist where it was resting along the truck bed. “And I don’t accept what you said last night.”

“That right?” Beau asked as Colt’s fingers trailed down the inside of his wrist. “What part are you having trouble accepting?”

“Maybe the part where you kissed me like you wanted to fuck me through my clothes and then said we couldn’t.” Those fingers moved up his arm and into the crook of his elbow before sifting down through Beau’s arm hair and tracing the back of his hand. “The thing is: you don’t get to decide that. Not on your own.”

Beau should absolutely move. He didn’t. Colt traced patterns across Beau’s skin, and arousal crept through Beau’s body, and he stayed.

Colt came closer and moved his hand to Beau’s chest, right over Beau’s hammering heart. “Beau, you want me.”

He couldn't deny it. Not as he was letting this happen.

“I'd be so good for you, Beau.” That hand trailed down as Colt stepped even closer and lowered his voice. “Your good boy. I want that. I want to get on my knees for you. I wantyou.”

Fingers were at the waistband of his sweats before he could convince himself to stop this. Headlights flooded the lot from the other side of his truck just as he grabbed Colt’s wrist.

“Stop,” he said, rough and low.

“Hey, team Jackrabbit!”

Beau jerked back and knocked his hip into the truck bed. The driver of car #63 hopped out of a minivan and waved..

“Evening,” Beau called back evenly.

#63 headed into the gym with a teen girl who had to be his kid based on that red shade of hair.

Colt whirled on him the second the door shut. “You'reashamedof me.”

“Colt, I—”

“Oh my God.” Colt ran a hand through his hair and stepped back. “No one could even see us, Beau, and you just acted like I'm a fucking leper.”

“You don't understand—”

“Then explain it to me!” Colt snapped. He shook his head and wrapped his arms around himself and Beau hated that all he wanted to do was pull him close and take everything back. “Explain how you can look at me the way you just did, get hard for me, kiss me like you want to eat me alive, and then act like being seen with me as more than my coach is something to be ashamed of.”