Driven to Protect, page 13
“Is it me, or is it hot in here?” Cohen’s shirt was sticking to his skin.
“Well, you still have your jacket on, and I have the heat on because it’s...”
“Winter. It was bloody cold outside.” Cohen sat up straight and pulled off his jacket, flinging on the floor behind him, then pulled his shirt over his head, enjoying the way Paulo’s eyes widened as Cohen revealed his bare chest.
“I love your nipples.” Paulo leaned in closer and sucked one into his mouth.
“Should I get a nipple ring?”
“Fuck, Cohen. Yes.” Paulo licked all the way up Cohen’s pectoral muscle and along his collar bone. “I can’t get one because of the way the safety harness sits against my chest.”
“You want one?”
“I ... It might make a fun toy?”
Cohen didn’t like the uncertainty in Paulo’s voice. One day he was going to learn it was okay to have desires, and that his desires weren’t hurting anyone, so they were perfectly fine. The fact that Paulo liked a little bit of pain with his pleasure was his own business; it didn’t make him ... well, Cohen wasn’t even going to let himself think of all the frustrating ways heterosexual society was prudish about sex. Paulo was exactly right for himself.
“There are lots of other toys you could get that don’t interfere with your job.”
“Maybe the team will make a butt plug with my head on it.” Paulo’s face flushed bright red, as if he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud.
“Paulo. What a wonderful imagination you have. But seriously? You wouldn’t want that. It’d look like your whole body was up someone’s ass.”
Paulo’s mouth slowly turned upwards in a sly smile. “I know. Can you imagine?”
And with that, Cohen decided he didn’t care if Paulo was planning to stay in the closet forever. He’d happily jump in there just to be with him. “I’m sorry I ran off before. It was a shock, that was all. I’ll wait for you. I want you to be safe and happy. That matters more than—”
Paulo frowned and poked him in the chest. “Don’t you dare say that my happiness matters more than yours. I thought this was a partnership?”
“Yes.” Cohen leaned forward and kissed Paulo with all the lust and force that, hopefully, told him how much he meant to him. He kissed him like he’d arrived home from a long quest to prove himself, and he was finally here, mouth against mouth, lips against lips, chest against chest, and beard against stubble. It was messy and rough and absolutely everything. He lifted his head, dragging in a deep breath.
“Fuck, you always kiss like it’s a competition.” Cohen’s voice was ragged and husky.
“I’m an athlete who likes winning. Plus I love it when you sound wrecked afterwards.”
“I thought I was supposed to do the wrecking.” Cohen licked his bottom lip on purpose, enjoying the way Paulo’s gaze tracked his tongue.
“You wreck me just by being in the same room.”
Cohen shifted on Paulo’s thighs, moving backwards just enough to give him access to Paulo’s jeans. He flicked open the buttons on his fly, carefully and slowly. Not just because every little touch made Paulo suck in a sharp breath until he was panting, but because Paulo’s cock was hard and it made his jeans taut and difficult to undo. Practicality was sometimes a pest.
“You should’ve worn those sweatpants of yours.”
“You don’t like my ... ahh...” Paulo gasped as Cohen dragged his fingernail up Paulo’s cock. His underwear would soften the sharpness—this time. “Um, jeans?”
Cohen kissed Paulo, a quick peck on the lips. “I like watching you walk in them. I don’t like taking them off when you are ...” He traced a circle on the tip with his thumb. “...all hard.”
“Gah.” Good, he’d reduced Paulo to unintelligible noises.
“You like that?”
Paulo nodded, his eyes bright and glowing. Fuck, his eyes were fucking beautiful and talented; he was able to drive at speeds that made no logical sense and take in all the information needed to react quickly. Not just the reflex of his vision and his hand-eye coordination, but the way he could do all of that and race other drivers in close proximity without crashing. Paulo’s ability in a car was at the limits of human capability for reaction time and visual processing.
“Cohen.” Paulo whined a little. “I’m dying here.”
“And I’m not?” Teasing Paulo always made him wet. Cohen slid off Paulo’s legs and knelt on the ground between his legs.
“Cohen. You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
“Oh God. I’m going to die.” Paulo lifted his hips and tugged his jeans and underwear off, somehow managing to make it look smooth and not the awkward argument with his clothing that Cohen would have. It was easy to fall into the trap that because Paulo’s job was done sitting down that he wasn’t an athlete. He was so athletic, it was sometimes intimidating. But then, all those worries went away as Paulo sat on the couch with his cock bare and hard and leaking.
“Moan for me.”
“Now?”
“Yes. Moan and then I’ll touch you.”
“Fuck.” Paulo wrapped his hand around his cock and Cohen flicked him on the wrist. It had the expected effect because Paulo let out a sinful noise from low in his throat.
Heat rushed down Cohen’s spine. “No touching.”
Paulo unfurled his fingers, one at a time, and much too slowly. Cohen allowed it. Eventually, Paulo lifted his hand off his cock and Cohen grabbed him by the wrist. He placed his hand, palm up, on his own thigh.
“Leave it there.” He gave Paulo no warning, no time to protest, as he rose on his knees and sucked Paulo’s cock into his mouth. The noise Paulo made was deliciously desperate, vibrating into Cohen’s body. Fuck, if he could record that noise, it’d keep him happy on lonely nights for the rest of his days. Whatever. He wasn’t going to have any lonely days because this incredible man was in love with him. Cohen was going spend the rest of his life with his mouth filled with cock, clean, slightly salty, hard cock. People always thought that sucking cock was an act of submission. Presumably it was for the right person. For Cohen, it was an act of power. He controlled all of Paulo’s body now. If he’d told Paulo to stand on his head and eat spiders, he’d do it just to keep Cohen’s mouth in place. Cohen wouldn’t because he wasn’t a sadist. It was enough that he knew he could ask and that he’d be obeyed. A delicious heat raced down his spine.
He just adored the way Paulo’s hands trembled as he tried to keep them where Cohen had put them; he loved the noises Paulo made, and he fucking wanted to be the one who made Paulo fly to the heavens. He licked and sucked until Paulo couldn’t keep his hands still anymore. Right at that moment when Paulo shouted out a warning and grabbed Cohen on the shoulders, Cohen flattened his tongue and took Paulo as deep as he could. Paulo’s knees gripped Cohen’s sides, his fingers dug into Cohen’s shoulders, and he shouted out a stream of profanities as he came into Cohen’s mouth. The salty come almost made him gag, but he swallowed it down.
“Fuck me, Cohen. That was amazing.”
“Okay.” Cohen stood up with one last lick that made Paulo groan. “I want you to kneel on the couch, arms outstretched across the back.” They’d done this a few times in the last few weeks, so Cohen knew the couch was strong enough to cope. Paulo moved languidly, his gaze all hazy and sated. It was Cohen’s favourite look. Paulo relaxed and obedient, with his naked ass in the air.
***
Paulo rested his chin on the back of the couch, spreading his arms wide, like Cohen requested. Cohen had asked for this pose several times; he must really like it. Paulo closed his eyes for a moment. He’d come so hard, he could fall asleep just here.
“Wake up sleeping beauty.” Cohen tapped Paulo on the ass and he jolted awake with a grunt. Nice. Way to impress anyone. Hopefully he hadn’t been drooling too. Cohen soothed his ass with a kiss and Paulo’s sated cock twitched again. Hell. He cursed his need to keep this private. Right now, with Cohen’s lube-covered fingers prepping his ass, Paulo wanted to shout it to the world that he loved this man and his talented mouth and hands.
“I have a treat for you.”
Paulo tried to talk but only a groan came out.
“It’s thick, purple, and ribbed.”
“Please.” He’d seen that dick among Cohen’s collection but every time he tried to hint that he’d like to try it, Cohen had chosen something else. Like many of Cohen’s dicks, it had a clit stimulator that pressed against Cohen’s body whenever he thrust. He lay in place as still as he could. Waiting. Cohen walked around the couch and grabbed a fist full of Paulo’s hair and pulled. His head lifted up, tugged by Cohen’s grip, pain prickling through his scalp.
“Open.” Cohen held the purple dick against Paulo’s mouth and he gasped as he opened his lips for Cohen. Soon the silicone dick filled his mouth and he sucked it as Cohen guided it in and out, past his lips. The combined pressure of the dick in his mouth with Cohen’s other hand still holding his hair tight was ... fucking everything. Cohen pushed the dick in just far enough to make Paulo want to gag, but not so far that it hurt. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes and he gazed up at Cohen, wanting more. Pleading as much as he could while his mouth was being used so perfectly thoroughly. Just as it was almost too much and he almost wanted to ask Cohen to stop, he stopped. Cohen released him and his head fell forwards without the support of Cohen’s hand.
“Paulo? Are you okay?”
“Yes.” He was more than okay. “Please fuck me now.” Paulo didn’t have to wait long before Cohen spread lube over his hole, gently opening him up with his fingers before he guided the thick end of the purple dick inside him. Fuck it stretched so much. Paulo shivered, a whole-body shudder, as Cohen’s purple ribbed cock filled him up. It wasn’t going to take long before he was a mess, not with each stroke past his prostate sending heat flying across his skin.
“Fuck. Fuck.” He clutched the couch and managed to shout out the word Cohen loved the most. “Please.”
Cohen grabbed Paulo’s hips and thrust—short quick thrusts—until Cohen cried out, coming hard, then collapsing onto Paulo’s back. Slowly, Cohen pulled out, they cleaned up quickly, then they collapsed onto the couch. Every inch of Paulo’s skin felt like it belonged to Cohen. Paulo loved this part the most, just lying in Cohen’s arms, completely relaxed. He’d earned this by giving himself completely to Cohen’s control and it was glorious. Together was where he wanted to be, and he’d been a fool to push Cohen away. His eyelids were very heavy. He’d tell him that; soon; after he’d snoozed for a bit.
Chapter 15
After two days of cross-country skiing, Paulo’s body had done enough. Everything ached. Today, their trainers had pushed them to do the entire 21km trail, and it’d pushed his fitness and stamina to the absolute limit. He’d leaned against the wall in the shower afterwards, too tired to do much more than hold himself up and let the warm water heat him up. Cohen had helped wash him, which was weirdly nice even if he’d been too exhausted to get an erection, and now he’d forced his legs to take him downstairs to where the hotel staff would have a trainer-approved meal for him. This was his third time doing this pre-season fitness trial and it didn’t get any easier. He collapsed into one of the huge leather chairs near the fireplace in the common area of the boutique hotel the team hired every year. With only twenty rooms, the team hired out the whole hotel for the week, which kept their fitness testing nice and private, and gave them all free run of all the facilities without having the worry about dealing with fans or other people.
“Why do we do this?” Lucien, Gamble’s number one Series E driver, stretched out his legs with a groan.
“To win races.” Paulo thought it was obvious. No one would put themselves through this without the promise of victory at the end. They needed to build up enough stamina to be able to drive fast for the entire length of a race.
“Fuck. I forget how young you are. Wait till you’ve been doing this for ten seasons, then you’ll ask the same question.”
“Hopefully when I’ve been doing this for ten seasons, I have more wins under my belt, and it’ll still be worth it.” He gave each of his legs a shake. Hopefully he would get to do this for ten seasons, and without the constant worry that he’d get sacked for non-performance at any time.
“Good attitude kid.”
One of the hotel staff came over and offered them both a warm mug of soup. “Today’s soup is tomato.”
“Thank you.” Paulo took the soup and sipped. It was the perfect temperature, warming all the way down his throat into his torso.
Lucien lifted his mug. “To another season of improvement. Victor is pretty excited about your new car.” Lucien’s partner Victor was the chief engineer at Gamble. Victor wasn’t here this week; it was just the drivers and physical trainers. It was a good start to the pre-season testing, just hanging out with the other drivers who all understood the pressures of racing, even if they were in the lower grades or in Series E.
“I’m excited about it. The new suspension change should be a huge aero boost. How’s your new car?” Paulo asked. The Series E team was run out of the same engineering office at Gamble’s headquarters in England, but they had a different team of people designing the technology and running the race team.
“I haven’t seen it yet, but it’s apparently been performing well in the wind tunnel.”
“Us drivers are the last ones to know anything.”
Lucien laughed. “So true, kid. Not like the old days when drivers like Lauda had more say.”
Paulo sipped his soup. S1 had always been a highly technical sport and now with the amount of computing power that ran the cars, it was hard enough to learn how to drive the complicated machines, without being involved with the design outside of reporting to the engineers about how the car handled in different conditions.
“Do you regret moving?” Paulo wasn’t quite sure why he asked, but he felt like he needed to keep the conversation going. It was a bit awkward because Paulo had basically taken Lucien’s S1 seat.
“From S1 to SE? No. I hated coming last every fucking race.”
Paulo nodded. It made sense to move on when Lucien had been beaten by his teammate Ondrej in nearly every race; both of them in slow cars, but one of them was obviously better.
“I know a little bit about that.” He’d only beaten Ondrej twice in his rookie season; and six times last season.
“What is your record with Ondrej?” Lucien asked.
“Two to nineteen in my rookie season and six to nineteen last season.”
“My record in my last S1 season was five to sixteen, but there was only one race where the team got points, and Ondrej got the single point, not me.”
“You couldn’t expect points from that car. It’s not all you.” He’d had the benefit of stepping into S1 with a decent car, while Lucien had struggled with Whitehall’s career-worst designs.
“I would’ve loved to have driven Victor’s car, but I made my choice with the information I had at the time. No one could have predicted the sudden success that Victor brought when he started.” The pride on Lucien’s face for his partner charmed Paulo. One day someone—Cohen—might have the same look when Paulo did well.
“I jumped from a terrible team, the laughingstock of S1, into a successful team and got a podium in my first race. I really don’t miss the memes. Fuck.” Lucien chuckled. “Besides, Series E is the future; you guys might get all the glamour now, but you are driving old-fashioned, out-dated tech.”
Paulo grinned. “That’s a fair point, although I think petrol engines will still be around until I retire.”
“Enough boring shop talk. What’s this I hear about you and your bodyguard?”
Paulo’s face warmed. “What have you heard?”
“I heard he hasn’t slept in his room since you both arrived here.” Lucien winked.
“No one gossips as much as a car racing team.” Paulo sipped his soup.
“So that’s a yes then. This fucking team!”
“What about this team?” Paulo jumped on the opportunity to talk about anything that wasn’t him and Cohen.
“Where have you been? Look at our key staff.” Lucien obviously referred to all the queer members in Gamble Racing. Paulo loved the idea that Cohen was seen as being one of the key team members, but he stopped himself blurting that out and telling Lucien the answer he was trying to tease out of him.
“Did you have to do a lot of stuff, like with admin and stuff, when you... um?”
“Hooked up with Victor?” Lucien’s whimsical expression was a thing of beauty.
“Um, yeah.” He swallowed.
“Technically we aren’t in the same team; he’s S1 and I’m SE. Socrates just shrugged and said that if we fucked it up, he’d keep us away from each other.”
“Okay?”
“We got the whole, ‘well you two are grown men who understand the business and our goals here and I’m sure you won’t let your relationship get in the way of those goals’, talk.”
Paulo nodded. He could probably deal with that from the team owner. It was the wider issues around his father’s sponsorship that was the core problem.
“Really?” Ondrej grabbed another chair and pulled it closer. “What talk is this?”
“Socrates about Victor and me.”
“Oh, that talk. I got one too.”
Paulo was desperate to know but didn’t know how to ask. Ondrej leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder.
“Look at how big your eyes are, kid. Just wait until you get the whole, ‘keep having sex, it makes you drive better’ chat.”
Lucien threw his head back and cackled. “Oh my god. Socrates is a menace.”
