King Cobra (Hot Rods) Read Online Free PDF

smile. “It’s your turn.”

Chapter Four
    Eli balled his fists to keep from charging into the clearing and taking a swing at the men who dared to put their hands on his best friend. But Joe’s warning rang in his mind. He had no right to interfere. He’d rejected Alanso’s advances. Given up the chance to be the man reveling in the seduction of Al’s innocent mouth on his cock.
    What a fucking moron.
    Except he wouldn’t have worn some nasty fucking condom. Alanso knew where he’d been. Hell, they’d been there together most of the time.
    Jealousy burned through him, nearly as hot and bright as desire.
    About the time Alanso really got into his amazing-looking blowjob, Eli unknitted his zipper and withdrew his cock. He took himself in hand, stroking in time to the uneven lunges of Alanso’s mouth on the guy they’d called Links’ shaft. The flex and play of muscles around the edges of Alanso’s T-shirt only fired him up more.
    Eli wished he could feel the strength there as Alanso submitted to him. Not because he had some sick urge to lord over the guy. But because he had waited so long for Alanso to trust that his friends would always care for him, wounded or not. Once and for all, maybe he’d believe that none of his friends would ever choose to leave him behind.
    Yet, in some ways, wasn’t that exactly what he’d done by refusing to walk beside his best friend on this journey?
    His cock wilted for a split second until Alanso’s science project lost his control. The man broke, grabbing Al’s head and anchoring him in place as he rode the open, succulent mouth in front of him and shot his come into the condom in spasm after spasm of what looked like a world-class orgasm.
    Eli half-expected the guy to drop dead on the spot.
    He wanted to hate the bastard. But he was thankful that Links had given Alanso what he needed when Eli couldn’t. That the stranger had respected Al, taking pleasure while giving plenty in return. Fuck them.
    All three of the apparent regulars now hovered around Alanso. His cheeks were darker than usual, a flush on his tan skin, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. The nice one, Phil, petted Alanso as if he were a stray dog to be tamed. Meanwhile, his accomplice shimmied those hot-as-hell jeans then a pair of bright yellow-and-black boxer briefs over Al’s trim hips and down his powerful thighs.
    Eli leaned against a tree so he wouldn’t crash to the forest floor at the sight of Alanso’s dick, rock-hard. Sure, they’d shaken the ketchup bottle together plenty of times as teenagers. All of the Hot Rods except Sally had whipped it out periodically during those hormone-laden years when Roman would bring home a porno or one of the other guys had gotten lucky in the storeroom of the garage.
    But he swore he didn’t remember Alanso’s cock looking like that.
    It shamed Eli that he hadn’t noticed the heft and impressive girth of Alanso’s hard-on when he’d clasped it in his fist the day they’d discovered just how close the crew really was. To be honest, he’d been too mesmerized by Mike fucking Joe and overwhelmed by the possibilities to take it all in.
    Plus, if he’d allowed himself to concentrate on Alanso’s cock spewing all over his hand, he never could have returned to normal once they’d left the fantasyland of their mutual masturbation and returned to the garage. Fuck . Had he gotten this entirely wrong from the start?
    Maybe he should have done exactly the opposite.
    Months and months of torture could have been alleviated for them both.
    Because Eli knew as he watched the three men in the grove undress Alanso—slowly yet deliberately—that he would have to do the same someday before he died. Or he’d regret it with every breath he took.
    Bronze skin coated in a light sheen of perspiration glinted in the twinkling lights wrapped through the bushes. Alanso looked like a sacrifice staked out on the turf. Or maybe a god surrounded by devotees.
    Eli could