Chapter 1
Cole
Cole
The gym already smelled of sweat and effort when Cole pushed open the door.
Some guys were stocky and short, some were lean, others were gifted with height and broad shoulders. He liked to play with muscular jocks who harbored a clear sense of pride, and the place was filled to the brim with them. One tossed his sweatshirt onto the floor carelessly, his top clinging to straining muscles.
But he didn’t come close to the man Cole was skimming for. When he first laid eyes on him, he knew the jock would be a perfect match.
Confident, cocksure, and obviously proud of his physique.
He aroused Cole’s need for control. A need that had grown from heartbreak, an ugly feeling he’d sworn off when he had broken things off with his cheating ex.
Control had turned into a compelling therapy.
The hunt brought purpose to his life and had become a perfect outlet for releasing his frustrations.
Being a barman allowed him to expand his hunting ground. Campus was a fine starting point, but Cole sometimes liked to extend his reach to older, more mature men. However, the ear-shattering music and the ridiculous brawls tired him a little more every day. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed the money, and for the sake of sexual gratification, he would have bailed a long time ago.
Cole caught his own reflection in a mirror, straight-backed, elegant, with a light, assertive step. His sculpted abs showed through his compression shirt, and a few people gawked at him.
He ignored them and went on his way.
Cole finally found his target—a fairly new contender in his game of seduction.
The jock in question always came alone. He stood a good six-foot-two. A lone wolf with a crew cut, gorgeous hazel eyes, and an imposing stature.
It didn’t take long for the jock to approach Cole, who was completing a series of crunches when he came up to him.
“Need any help?” Cole pushed a dark lock of hair from his eyes.
“I saw you training alone. Figured you’d want some company,” The jock swallowed, uncertainty shrouded by false confidence.
Cole smiled widely, propped himself up on his elbows, and got up.
He extended a friendly hand. “I’m Cole.”
His grip was firm, but Cole squeezed tighter. “Donovan.” He winced.
Cole grabbed his towel. “Haven’t seen you around before.” He lied.
“Just settled in.”
“How did you end up in this shithole?” Cole joked.
Donovan laughed nervously. “Believe it or not, Haxwell University was my first choice. It’s got one of the best Kinesiology programs in Canada, so I figured some mountain air wouldn’t do me any harm. You’re a student here, too?”
“I study Library Science,” Cole sized him up. “I hope freezing to death is included in your hobbies.”
“Nothing better than frostbite in the morning,” Donovan laughed. “So, you’re interested?”
“Can’t say no to a gym partner. Mine got kicked out of campus, was drunk in class one too many times.”
Donovan licked his plump lips. “Things get wild here. Who would’ve thought?”
Cole felt his heart jump a beat; the jock’s tongue looked soft as silk. “You up for a tryout? I get intense, you better be ready.”
“Is that a threat?” Donovan asked, playful.
“Maybe it is. Are you up for a challenge?”
“Always am,” Donovan chuckled, raw, masculine. “Who knows, I might put you through your paces.”
“We’ll see about that,” Cole told him. “You often ask people out at the gym.”
“I—no, I just saw you looking at me. You weren’t super discreet.” Donovan bit back with a shit eating smirk.
“Guilty,” Cole eyed him up and down. “You’re pretty to look at, what can I say?”
“Dude–that’s…” He stuttered, flushing red. “Thanks, I guess.”
Easily flustered. Cute.
“I’m fucking with you,” Cole pointed at a machine. “These are free.”
Donovan strode behind without another word. The flush in his cheeks fading.
“So you’re into dudes and chicks?” Cole suddenly asked, sitting at the chest fly machine.
Donovan fidgeted. “To be honest… I haven’t done anything with dudes back home. But I guess they’re sweet too.” His voice dropped as he said it.
“Never had a taste before, then?”
“Nope,” his answer popped loudly.
“Sorry, sorry, I won’t pry.”
“I don’t mind,” he mumbled. “I want to enjoy myself while I’m here.”
“You’re a fuck boy?” Cole said. “Didn’t take you for one.”
“No!” Donovan blurted. “I just mean I want to have some fun, that’s all.”
Cole snorted. “Get your dick wet.”
“Yeah, that’s what Uni’s for, right?”
“Can’t lie, I fucked my way through campus in my first year. I found that most guys don’t know how to do it properly. They lack discipline and restraint, but I’m sure you perform well,” Cole continued.
The weights dropped loudly. “Sorry,” Donovan said. “ I-I guess so, haven’t had any complaints with what I’m packing,” he bragged.
“Oh, I’ll take your word on that, big boy.”
Donovan smiled, his cheeks turning red again.
After their first exchange, Cole teased Donovan through many workouts, tugging at his defenses and testing his reserves. He had to be sure the jock was open to being tamed.
Donovan took another few weeks to accept Cole’s sweaty towel since he had forgotten his own.
He lingered on it as he wiped his face, and it was on that auspicious day that Cole decided it was time to move forward with his plan.
“Get on the bench,” Cole ordered. “I want you to push yourself.”
Donovan nodded and lay down.
“Ready, stud?” Cole asked. Donovan’s knuckles were white around the barbell.
“Totally, dude.” He said lazily.
“Do your best.”
A few reps later, Donovan was struggling to push up the weights. His breathing was ragged, he swallowed, but his eyebrows were still furrowed with determination.
“Please, man,” his veins pulsed furiously. “I can’t take this anymore, I can’t...”
Cole waited and considered telling him to continue. But the jock’s soft eyes made him falter.
“At ease, then.” Cole offered his palm.
The smell of the lengthy workout session settled between them. Donovan absentmindedly pressed his head into Cole’s belly, panting and searching for reassurance.
“You’re a bastard, you know that,” Donovan spat.
“You love it!”
His breathing was erratic, his chest heaving, his tank top sticking to his golden skin.
Thank God for sun beds.
Cole liked a light tan, and he expected it to be full-body later on.
Cole massaged Donovan’s back with his thumbs. “Breathe deep, you did good today,” and then murmured intimately. “I’m proud of you.”
Donovan gazed up, searching for more. He leaned into Cole’s domineering touch, dropping his head lower, a quiet sign of submission. Cole’s heart fluttered.
Good boy. He thought, but didn’t dare say it out loud yet, afraid he would scare the Jock. He let him catch his breath, sitting on the pungent rubber mat. Cole stayed on his feet, keeping a firm hand on the jock’s shoulder. He weighed down on him, but Donovan didn’t complain. Fleeting glances were exchanged, and Cole noticed the bump in Donovan’s shorts. His cock was curved up and engorged.
“You’re a bit too worked up,” Cole said.
“I don’t,” Donovan pulled his knees toward him. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I don’t mean to…”
“You’re a horny fucker, that’s what you are,” Cole teased.
“I’m not, it’s,” Donovan dropped his chin on his knees. “It’s because of you.”
“Look at you, accusing me because you’re a little perv. Can’t even take responsibility for your own dick,” he let go and sat right in front of his friend. “Breathe in, breathe out.”
Donovan listened, his gaze deep and dark. Almost dangerous. But when Cole stared back too long, his eyes dropped to the rubber mat. Cole made sure his erection had subsided before rising.
“We’re done for the day.”
“I’m,” Donovan started.
“Let’s head to the showers,” Cole interrupted. “I need to make sure you’re good. I might’ve pushed you a bit too hard today.”
“I…”
“Don’t argue,” his word was final.
Donovan shut his mouth and walked ahead, pulling on his shorts in discomfort.
Seemingly doubtful, he kept looking back to make sure Cole followed.
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