Page 67 of Teach Me To Sin
“Hmmm?” He flops into the chair and looks at me way too aggressively for someone with nothing to hide.
I poke Colson’s cheek until he opens his eyes. “Look at our boy.”
“What about him?” Colson cranes his neck. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. You act like an angel, but you’re really a competitive, cheating little shit, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alek crosses his arms and slides deeper into his chair, struggling to keep a straight face.
I nod sagely. “So we just didn’t notice earlier that you were wearing four t-shirts and three pairs of shorts? I guess we need to get our eyes checked, Colson.”
“You know what I think?” Colson fixes his blistering sex stare on Alek, while one of his thumbs strokes my thigh possessively. I can see Alek swallow from here. “I think competitive people only cheat if they’re bad at games. He’s going to lose no matter what he does.”
The pissed off frown that flashes across Alek’s face cracks me up. “I think you’re right.” I squeeze Colson’s arm. “You first. Ask us something about yourself.”
“Hmm.” He stretches and settles back down, rubbing his shoulder tantalizingly against my dick. I can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or not. “What is my main hobby, besides chasing dogs around?”
Colson, myself, and both dogs jump when Alek claps his hands together and sits up sharply. “Fuck yes.”
“Woah, okay.” I put my hands up. “What’s your answer?”
He shakes his head. “No, no. You go first. You’re not stealing mine.”
Scoffing, I roll my eyes and try to think. He likes his car, but I don’t think he works on it. His house gave nothing away at all. “Wine collecting? Wait–no. Golf.”
Colson presses a hand to his eyes with a guttural groan. “Please tell me I don’t have golf guy vibes. Anything but that.”
“You lose,” Alek demands. “Strip.”
“Calm the fuck down. Colson’s right; you’re a dick.” But I catch my breath and squirm when the lawyer slides his hand far enough up my shirt to trace the shape of my pecs.
“I’m with the dick on this one,” he murmurs. I know he can feel my hard-on now, poking him in the back. With the way both of them are looking at me, I’m thinking the real winner is whoever ends the game fastest.
I slide my good arm out of my t-shirt, but it’s too tight and my head gets stuck. “I need help, and I’m not saying that in a sexy way.”
Colson doesn’t appear interested in moving, so Alek crawls out of his chair and crosses the room. As he slides the shirt down over my cast, I tug at the four waistbands around his hips and laugh. “Dork.”
Cool air caresses my torso as the shirt comes off, and my treacherous nipples perk right up. My body enjoys feeling pleasure again instead of pain, like the parts of me that curled up in a hole after the fire have come out to play.
Alek brushes his fingers along my collarbone, then down my bare chest before he steps back. When he tries to return to his chair, Colson’s hand darts out and catches his wrist, forcing him to turn around. The two of them stare at each other the way I described to Alek when we first met–like they’re starving to death and they just spotted the last steak dinner in the universe.
Tugging him a step closer, Colson nods to the floor next to the couch. I watch, fascinated, as Alek lowers himself to sit cross-legged on the fluffy rug. It’s like a race to see who can touch him first–I tease my fingers through his hair at the same time Colson brushes his knuckles against the bruise he left on Alek’s neck. Alek shivers, his hungry eyes moving between us.
“Tell me what my hobby is, if you’re so pleased with yourself,” Colson rumbles, his thumb slipping up to play with the soft patch of skin under Alek’s ear.
He grins, looking more carefree than I’ve ever seen him. “Planning your sustainable native plant garden.”
“Huh?” I glance down at Colson, but he’s drilling a hole into Alek with his eyes.
He hooks two fingers in the collar of Alek’s four t-shirts, giving them a threatening tug. “Did you dig through my bedside drawers while I was generously letting you sleep off a hangover?”
Alek’s so fucking pleased with himself he can’t stop smiling. “I win. Strip.”
Folding up his leg with one of those groans guys in their forties do to make a huge meal out of how old they’re getting, he pulls off a black sock and flicks it at Alek.
“My turn.” I consider for a moment. “What’s my favorite snack?”
“Donuts,” Alek says instantly, at the exact same time Colson says, “Cock.”
I tap the tip of Colson’s nose with my finger. “I was gonna say donuts, but I like that one better.”