Page 76 of Jackrabbit

Beau was on a call, making an appointment for a check engine light assessment. The man on the phone was telling Beau about some kinda knocking noise, the kind that Beau had already told him was probably his suspension considering what else had been said. Colt came around the counter right next to Beau, and Beau caught the scent of another man’s cologne just before Colt bent over to dig out his coveralls. His shirt rode up in the back. His jeans slid down. And there was a hickey right next to one of Colt’s back dimples.

Shaped like a small mouth, it was the same pale purple as the one on his neck. Like the man wasn’t quite committing to the act.

How had it gottenthere? Colt must have been spread out for this man, letting him put hands and mouth and—

Beau hung up the phone midway through the customer’s sentence. “Get in my office.”

Colt turned, startled, his coveralls dangling from his hand. “What? I'm just—let me get dressed.”

“Right now, boy,” Beau said, cold and calm because the alternative wasn't fit for public spaces. “Go.”

Still with his coveralls in his hand, Colt listened, and satisfaction curled in Beau’s chest at the easy compliance.

Colt dropped his coveralls on the floor and leaned back against Beau’s desk as Beau shut the door.

“What’s up, boss?”

What was up? The hell could he say to that? Not the truth. Not that he saw that hickey and wanted to throw Colt over his shoulder and show him what a real one looked like.

“You were two hours late this morning,” Beau said. “You—”

“Oh, really?” Colt laughed. Actually laughed while he crossed his arms and leaned further back on the desk. “Those hours in our imaginary contract?”

Beau worked his jaw. “You know it’s the principle. You show up every morning at the same time. When you don’t, it leaves me to do the things you usually do.”

“Uh-huh.” Colt drummed his fingertips against his arm. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that Sameer dropped me off? That he kissed me in front of you?”

“Don't you talk about that shit in my office,” Beau snapped. He'd spent all day trying to forget that moment. He didn't need to be reminded now.

“Talk about what?” Colt asked, the smug little brat. “About how you couldn't handle me, so I went out and found someone who could?”

Beau prided himself on thinking things through before he did them. He'd done it on the track, he did it in his shop, in every aspect of his life. Impulsivity was a liability.

He didn't think now.

One second, he was watching Colt smirk at him like he thought Beau was the most amusing thing, and the next, he was across the room with his hand on Colt’s jaw, and Colt wasn't smiling anymore.

“Handle you?” Beau hissed as he pushed Colt’s head to the side and pressed his other thumb against the hickey on his neck. “Is this how you wanted to be handled? Soft, wasn't it? Sweet and gentle and considerate.”

Colt squirmed, and Beau pushed his legs apart with his knee, fit his thigh between Colt’s, and relished the heat of him. “Well? How was it, boy? You seem to have a lot to say about it. Tell me.”

“It—” Beau moved his leg up, applied pressure in just the right spot behind Colt’s balls, and Colt cut himself off. “It was good. He was good. Sweet. But not…”

“Not?” Beau asked as he rocked his thigh once, twice. He pressed the mark harder. “Not what, Colt?”

“Not you,” Colt admitted as he shifted down, the tiniest movement that told Beau everything he needed to know. “He didn't make me feel like this, even when he was—”

“When he was what?” Beau growled in his ear, and Colt made a soft noise that went straight to Beau’s cock as Beau rocked again. “Inside you? When he had those soft hands on you? His mouth?”

“Shit, Beau,” Colt gasped as he ground himself against Beau’s thigh. “Please.”

“Look at you,” Beau said as he pulled back enough to see how blown Colt’s pupils were, fucking gorgeous in his pleasure just as Beau had known he would be. He tightened his grip on Colt’s jaw until his mouth opened just enough for Beau to hear him beginning to pant. “Spent the night with another man, and still you're here begging me like some kinda little—”

He gently wrapped his hand around Colt's throat.

“Little what, Beau?” Colt asked as he wrapped his hand around Beau's wrist. He licked his lips and rolled against Beau’s thigh, absolutely shameless. “Say it. Fuck. Please. I want to hear it. Tell me what I am.”

“Slut,” Beau snarled, and Colt moaned, hips jerking. Beau leaned down and licked the hickey someone else had left, and he feltpowerful. “Dirty little slut, givin’ it to someone else because you couldn't have me.”