Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
I roll him over and scoop an armful of snow right in his face.
“No!” Clyde yells, but laughs so hard he gets snow in his mouth. He kicks and waves his arms around like he’s a human windmill, shoving as much white fluff at me as possible.
When some gets into my eyes and I lose focus for a second, he uses that moment to get out from under me. By the time I wiped my face, he’s already a few paces away, panting and red-faced.
“Last one to the hot springs doesn’t get head tonight.” He wriggles his eyebrows at me in challenge.
I curse my legs for not being faster, because there’s no way in hell I’m losing this one, even if the game’s already rigged in Clyde’s favor. Now that he dangled that carrot in front of me, I cannot lose, so I sprint away, cutting into the woods instead of following him along the path. Soon enough, it becomes obvious it wasn’t such a good idea, because the shortcut is hardly a shortcut when each step through the deep snow’s exhausting and sends more of the melting ice into my boots. But I’m not one to give up in the face of trouble, so I choose spots where the snow seems thinnest and speed so fast my lungs soon start aching.
Every now and then I get a glimpse through the trees of Clyde speeding up the path. I hear his footsteps crunching. He even yelps once, so I’m guessing he might have fallen over, but if he’s not yelling for help, I’m not stopping.
I can already see the steam rising from the small pool of water in the rocks, and thank fuck no one is here. Clyde is panting somewhere down the path, but I’ll be first, I know it. I’m about to burst into the clearing when my foot hits something, and I fall on my face, right into the snow. It fucking hurts, and I can taste blood, as if I’d split my lip, but this is not over. I drag myself up and crawl from between the trees in time to see Clyde. He’s huffing and puffing as he jumps over the wooden fence offering the bathers a bit of privacy from the side of the path.
Many solar-powered lamps are scattered around the springs for nice evening ambience, so at least I see where I’m headed.
“You look like a dying man in the desert, trying to reach an oasis!” Clyde laughs, climbing the little steps to reach the pool from the path, but I’m not letting him distract me.
I slap my hand into the water, still on all fours.
“I won!” I shout, only now realizing that I’ve dipped my gloves and sleeves in, which are now soaked with the warm liquid. Just fucking great.
Clyde stands over me with his hands on his hips, catching his breath. “Wouldn’t say the shortcut was fair, but can’t blame you.” He winks at me and takes off his scarf.
All I can think of now is his lovely, hot mouth, because my clothes are already soaking and cold. I dread having to put them back on when we get out of the pool. But that’s a problem for future Road.
“Poor you. What will you do about this terrible penalty?” I tease and touch his lower back in passing. The deal was that the loser gets no head, not that he’ll not get any pleasure, and I know many ways to make Clyde shout my name while he claws my back, besides gobbling up his cock like it’s my favorite popsicle.
He smirks, towering over me as he takes off his jacket, then his shoes. At least the air around the hot spring is also a little warmer. “We’ll just have to see how creative you can get.”
There was no promise of head for the winner of our little race, but I’m pretty sure it’s a given when he licks along his top lip. Not that I’ve ever had to do much convincing when it comes to that. Clyde sometimes wakes me up with his mouth around my dick, but I don’t see his talented tongue ever getting old.
“I can be pretty creative when I want to,” I say, hanging up my jacket. I already feel bitterly cold, but there’s a prize waiting for me in the spring surrounded by rocks, so I bite the bullet and shed my remaining clothes.
Naked, inked, Clyde steps into the water. It only reaches to his chest when he stands in the deepest spot, so he dips lower and takes me in with his enticing blue eyes as if he’s some dangerous male nymph in a pond.
And he is dangerous all right, or rather—was—and if I couldn’t deny him then, what are my chances now? The stone tiles have been cleared of snow, but they still feel like ice under my feet as I make my way to the pool. When I dip one toe in the water, it feels almost too hot, but it’s a minor detail.