Page 16 of Muscle Cub

Austin pulled my knees against his waist, and he toyed with my fingers. I rubbed my facial hair against his neck—because I couldn’t resist the opportunity—and pressed my swelling cock against his spine.

It was intimate—the kind of intimacy exhibited by couples—but not being able to see his face made me feel self-conscious.

Someone called for another toast to the Summer of Lust—apparently there had been one before the Saints and Sinners party—and all the men around us whooped and cackled, but Austin went still.

While a few of the guys exited the pool to grab everyone fresh drinks, Ryan, Keeper of the Cooler of Good Shit, flashed a wicked grin. “How’s your Summer of Lust going, by the way?”

I slipped from Austin’s back as he lunged for Ryan. He dunked him, grabbed him in a headlock, and dragged him across the pool. The wrestling match went on and on, cheered by an audience of shit-talkers, but I wasn’t enjoying it.

Their grappling was more brotherly than sexual, and they were acting like fourteen-year-olds, but they looked like they belonged together in a way Austin and I never would.

The realization was a gut punch.

If it hadn’t been me at this point in the evening, it would surely have been someone else clinging to Austin, wet and ready.

What the fuck am I doing? I must look ridiculous.

I swam to the ladder near the corner of the deep end and climbed out of the pool.

It was freezing once I left the water. I grabbed a towel from a stack on a nearby lounger, vaguely hoping I wasn’t stealing it from someone.

“Hey!” Austin called out.

I hugged the towel around me and pressed it into my eyes, irrationally thinking I could ignore him if I didn’t look at him.

“Prof!”

I ground my teeth, refusing to answer to that fucking nickname.

“Paul!” His voice was pitched higher than normal. “Are you getting out?”

Considering I was already standing on the concrete, it was a stupid question, but hearing him use my name, I couldn’t help but turn.

Austin’s hands were on the edge of the pool, and he was preparing to haul himself out.

I squatted down close to him. “Stay. It’s warmer if you just stay in. I think I’m gonna crash.”

“What?” He looked stricken, bewildered. “No.”

Seeing the genuine disappointment in his eyes, I almost changed my mind. Almost. I’d enjoyed spending some time alone with him. I’d even started to feel comfortable. I could’ve happily convinced myself kissing him in the pool made sense as a fantasy come true, but this party was just getting started, and these guys—his friends—weren’t going anywhere anytime soon. I couldn’t see myself hanging out with a bunch of twentysomethings drinking five times more than I already had and winding up in some obscene puppy pile in the sauna sometime close to dawn. “Yeah. It’s been a long day. I’m pretty wiped.”

“Are you mad?” Even his frown was adorable.

“Why would I be mad?” I was irritated by the circumstances of our being interrupted. I was annoyed with myself for either looking like a fool or giving up this chance like an idiot, but I couldn’t be mad at him for being who and what he was.

Young. Handsome. Sexy. Funny.

Out of your league.

Austin stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “We didn’t even get to make out.”

“Is that what you thought was gonna happen?” Teasing him provided an opportunity to prove I wasn’t angry.

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

I chuckled. “I had fun with you tonight. Thank you.”

“Why does it have to be over? I can walk you to your tent.” He wasn’t making any more moves to get out of the pool.