Page 21 of Dangle

Where the hell did that come from?

I’ve never cared what other people thought. Ever.

My eyes drifted to the kid walking ahead of us, surrounded by his boys, as they seemed to call each other. I watched him, and Ewen watched me. I felt every year that stretched between him and me, but I couldn’t find it in me to give a shit that he had to be at least fifteen years younger than me. The boy oozed sex appeal and a magnetic charisma that took my logical, organized, stoic brain offline, while simultaneously cranking the knob up on my libido. I’d gotten half-hard when he walked into the FBO, and it appeared the situation would be the status quo, because nothing had changed. If anything, my dick twitching in my tactical pants—yes, I wore them still, sue me—showed a greater interest than before.

Ewen chuckled. I glared at him, turning his chuckles into full-out belly laughs. Trey and his boys looked over theirshoulders at us, but Trey’s face held a soft smile while the other guys just looked curious.

“I fucking hate you,” I muttered.

“I’ve seen you edge and fuck a brat until he cried and begged to come. I’ve seen you tie them up and paddle their asses. Hell, I’ve seen you sound a guy or two. We’ve spit-roasted more than one submissive over the years, but this…” he paused to gigglesnort, which drew even more looks from the boys walking ahead of us. When he calmed, he said, “This is the fucking funniest shit ever. You’re…”

Before he could finish the thought, cracking his ass up, I stepped into his path, grabbed his dick and said, “If you utter another word…”

He leaned forward, put his lips right next to my ear and breathed out, “Well, and truly smitten.” He pulled away, catching me off guard with a loud, wet kiss on my cheek before walking off.

SIX

TREY

We followed the crew member across the tarmac out to the plane, but my head swirled with the realization that the mystery man from the rink walked behind me. And one guy who attended games with him—the sexier of the two guys, but nowhere near as sexy as the mystery man—walked next to him.

“…sound a guy or two. We’ve spit-roasted more than one submissive…”

Holy fuck!

That’s…

WOW!

Fuck my life.

No wait. That made it sound bad. This wasn’t bad. This was good.

Was it?

It was. Right?

Holy shit.

Were they together?

Was the other guy one of the ones they’d shared?

How did someone go about applying for that position?

My dick pulsed and thickened at the idea. I liked that a lot, but I’d dressed for comfort since I fucking hated being bound up when I traveled. So yeah, athletic pants, and no underwear…nota great combo for covering up a boner. Even if the pants were black and on the thicker side.

Luckily, the cause of the pants party walked behind me, and the boys were all in front of me.

We climbed the steps into the plane and… Wow! I’d known the Holts were loaded. The twins, Asher and Bauer, owned a hockey team for fuck’s sake. You didn’t get that privilege without some serious dollar signs and commas in your bank account. But this plane was off the charts. And that’s saying something because I’d flown in several privately owned jets in my life.

The Holt logo stood out everywhere—blatantly in your face, but there were very subtle nods as well—all of it tastefully done because not even the blatant branding came off as garish.

The boys dropped onto the couches and chairs facing the television. Instead of joining them, I sat at a table. I had a paper due next week; I hadn’t even started.

Ewen and the mystery man, whose name I’d yet to learn, dropped down in chairs diagonally from me, and I knew then I would need to pull out my headphones once we were airborne so I could focus on writing my paper. They sat facing me, with their backs to the cockpit. Without the headphones, the smooth, velvety sound of my mystery guy’s voice—which was fucking beautiful—would continually draw my attention.

As soon as the pilot had us at cruising altitude, I accepted the soda the crew member offered and pulled out my headphones, laptop, and iPad.