A minute later, the scrap of leather was on. Sean tugged at the section barely covering his ass. Or maybe its purpose was to show it. He studied his reflection. Not half bad. Was pretty sure that Max would approve. The guy seemed to really like his physique. He also seemed to really like his hair… Hmm. Sean finger-combed his golden locks till they draped just right atop his shoulders.
He adjusted his junk next. The shorts were snug. Like, ridiculously snug. And revealing. He didn’t even have a hard-on yet—yet—but could totally see the outline of his cock. Sean’s lips curved as he eyed his crotch, then the rest of his body. He worked out, and it showed. Had maintained his definition. Still looked like the athlete he used to be.
His smile faded. He missed competing. Missed the high. The rush. The excitement.
Stupid car accident.
He looked at his hands. Clutched his left with his right. Absently thumbed its palm. He had gymnast’s hands, still. Even now. With iron grips. Renowned for their unequaled strength. Sean smirked and shook his head. How comically ironic. That the outlet he sought now, to fill his gymnast void would restrain said hands entirely. Turning the tools that had once been paramount into nothing but two nonessentials. At first thought, one would think he’d done a total one-eighty, but hopefully some of their facets would be similar. Like the challenge. The exhilaration. The orgasmic rush of triumph. Although orgasms in general at the hand of Hot for Teacher would definitely suffice for now.
Sean squeezed his package. If only Max would—
“Nice.”
Sean jerked and spun around. “Jesus fuck. You gotta stop doing that.”
Max grinned, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorjamb. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I like watching you jump.”
Sean crossed his arms, too. Opened his mouth to reply. But his mind was instantly distracted. By all that leather hugging Max’s body. Just the perfect amount, too, on all the right parts. Liquid onyx on a living, breathing canvas. Wrist cuffs, combat boots, a wicked little vest. And the most decadent skin-tight pants Sean had ever laid eyes on. Goddamn, how they accentuated Max’s powerful thighs. Sean had only ever seen Max in jeans or khakis, but neither of those were very revealing. Which definitely wasn’t the case with these. With these, Sean could literally see every band of muscle. And those muscles weren’t small. At all.
Sean swallowed, forcing his eyes to bypass Max’s crotch to instead get a glimpse of his torso. So smooth and tan, with a glorious eight-pack peeking out from under his vest. Sean’s everything tightened as he ogled Max’s navel. And the sexy as fuck ink job just below it. A tribal-looking tat that arched and curved, dipping provocatively down into Max’s pants. Following his happy trail. Or paving the way. Max’s secret path to Heaven, no doubt. Or one hell of a sweet buffet. Because it did look delicious. Like dark chocolate drizzled on a golden brown treat.
Sean’s dick stirred. Max’s body was making him hungry. The epitome of drool-worthy. Of sublime. And all Sean could think of was needing to taste it. Run his tongue up those abs to Max’s thick, chiseled pecs that, disappointingly, were concealed by that vest. But Sean knew, just knew, Max’s nipples were gorgeous. He’d also bet his ass they were pierced.
His gaze rose higher, past the dip in Max’s collarbone, over his sexy black choker to his face. A face that, as always, was framed in rich auburn. Not short hair, per se, but a few inches shorter than Sean’s. Sean loved that mane. So perfectly messy. Wanted to touch it, tunnel his fingers in deep, and see if it was as soft as it looked. But he especially loved how it emphasized Max’s eyes. How its color made his emerald irises burn. Which was wild because typically green was a cool color. But not Max’s. His green defied natural law. His emerald eyes always blazed.
Kind of like they were doing now as they slowly looked Sean over.
Sean’s heart thumped faster as he met Max’s gaze. “Damn. Looking good, Max. Leather’s definitely your color.”
Max smirked, just a little, and strode inside. “Your ass looks pretty sweet in it, too.”
Sean fought not to preen. “Thanks. My ass tries.”
Max dropped down on the couch, right at the end, and leveled Sean with a smoldering-stern look. “Bring me your forms, Sean. Time to see what makes you tick.”
“Oh… Uh… Sure.” Sean reached for his pile of neatly folded clothes and pulled the folded papers from a pocket. Then he headed over and handed them to Max.
“Thank you.” Max took them and gestured to the couch. “Sit. Other end. Be quiet while I read.”
Sean chuckled and sat down. “So far away. I don’t have cooties, you know.”