44 Patience is a Virtue Not Available to Everyone

Kevin arched and rested his hands on some papers. He shouldn't have crushed them, but the pleasure was so great he couldn't help it. Admittedly, Kevin had no comparison, but he was sure that Jack was the true master of French love.

"Ohhhhh ...!" Kevin groaned, unable to cope with the pleasure. He closed his eyes and, breathing heavily, shamelessly allowed Jack to dance his tongue around his cock. Kevin's fingers tightened tighter, and the professor hoped these were documents he wouldn't have to return.

A spasm of pleasure shook the young professor's belly. Moore felt fulfillment filled him, and then he filled Jack.

Lambert stood up and removed steamed glasses from Moore's face. Kevin saw Jack wiping his lips with satisfaction. His eyes sparkled happily.

"Better?" Moore asked his lover.

He didn't have to ask, he could see Lambert was in a better mood. However, it was a good way to start a conversation.

"I feel charged," he admitted, and stroked his belly as if showing where his newly acquired energy was. "What about the bedroom?"

"I said later!" Moore gently kicked him a third time, but this time Jack grabbed and held his leg. He unceremoniously took off his sock.

"You…!"

Moore kicked him with the other foot, but with the same effect. Jack, on the other hand, threw his leg over his shoulder and began to caress the instep first, then the ankle and calf ... Kevin found it harder and harder to hold in this position.

"Okay, okay!" Moore capitulated. "Bedroom…"

Lambert scooped him into his arms and carried him like a princess to their shared bedroom. Here he gently laid him down on the sheets and finally pulled his pants off. Kevin knew he had nothing left to say at this point. All he could do was accept all the pleasure Jack Lambert gave him.

"Will you tell me now what happened?"

Jack was lying on his side, resting his head on his shoulder and looking at his beautiful lover. Kevin Moore was one hundred percent natural beauty, which he inherited from the male line of his ancestors, as seen in old photos and portraits. His ancestors were military and police officers, but also outstanding researchers whose adventures could be traced back to colonial times, where on behalf of Queen Victoria Kevin's distinguished ancestor, Christian Moore, participated in an expedition to investigate the sources of the Nile. Two hundred years earlier, one Moore had even captained a privateer ship and had fought the Spaniards off the coast of Jamaica.

Looking at Kevin, Jack had the impression that he saw in him all the restless and noble character traits of his ancestors. Kevin had the heart of a warrior and explorer, a true adventurer, so although for Jack was not easy to seduce the young professor, once he decided on this completely new adventure, turned out for Kevin to be the greatest adventure in itself.

"Why are you not answering?" Kevin was impatient. His body was tired from the pleasures that Lambert gave him, but his mind was working very well.

"Sorry, I was just thinking. Do you remember how you felt when you first recognized that we could be together? "

"I remember," he admitted without hesitation. "Are you worried about Martin?"

There were no secrets between Jack and Kevin. It was not due to any pact or promise, they were just lucky to find the perfect partners for themselves, so sharing what bothered them or pleased them came quite naturally. They could talk about literally anything. No wonder Jack mentioned to his lover about a charming new mechanic and his adventures with Steve. Moore probably knew all there was to know about Paxton himself, Karl Walton, Abe Allen and even this new driver, Don Alston.

"Yes, but for a different reason," admitted Lambert. Then he sighed. "Martin had an unpleasant adventure today ..."

"Steve again?" Kevin looked concerned. "If so…"

"No, no, no," he said briskly. "These two ..." Lambert smiled meaningfully.

"I understand." Moore also smiled.

"But Martin is the type that gets in trouble," Jack sighed. "The kid doesn't know the vibrations around him. He is kind, gentle, helpful and cheerful. Easy target. And since he started dating Steve, he has become more appealing to men. I wonder if he was bullied at school? "

"Are you afraid he's a potential victim?"

"Yes. Is there any way I can protect him without alerting him to the danger? "

Kevin thought about it.

"The predator attacks those who are weaker than himself. It even selects the weakest animals in the herd. Make him rank higher in the herd and you'll eliminate most of the potential threat. "

"Hmm, that's kind of smart. The problem is that Martin is no longer part of our herd ... "

It was only the second whiskey, far too little to relax an upset Don Alston. The third driver of the Fergus Stables had one of the most humiliating days of his life today. He did not realize this until the hours passed. He was ashamed, but most of all he was furious with those who had humiliated him. He dreamed of getting revenge.

Revenge wasn't easy, though. They say it tasted best served cold, but Don was definitely not the type to take his revenge ten years. He definitely preferred to get things done right away. Had it not been for Jack, he would have repaid Martin for the slap in the face immediately. He would pay him back.

Martin, that little whore who was so shamelessly getting f*cked by another guy, dared to punch him, Don Alston! Martin should know his place and, as a mechanic, not stand up to the driver. That was their hierarchy. That was the order of things. The Don was no worse than Steve, so why did that little bitch in front of Paxton spread her legs and closed her mouth in front of Don?

Don't let Martin think the case between them is over!

"Is a professional driver allowed to drink alcohol during the week?" asked the man who had just taken his seat on the adjoining bar stool.

"I doubt anyone cares what I'm doing," Don said, and drank to the bottom. He asked for another whiskey.

"Is that why you are in such a bad mood? Is that why you wanted to talk to me? " the man asked and asked for the same.

'Is that why?' The Don asked himself.

Is that why? Was it this dissatisfaction that made him call his ally, or was he hoping that Nelson would help him achieve revenge?

"I want to drive on the track," he announced.

"That's what you ended up in the Fergus Stables for," his companion explained.

"Yes, but how long should I wait?"

"You know what the rules are in this sport. Don't be impatient. The opportunity will come by itself. "

"Can't you push Walton? Threaten with the withdrawal of funds ...? "

"Don, be patient," Nelson rebuked him again. "Your competitors are players with a certain reputation. It's not easy to remove any of them from the game. Not before the first race. "

"It will be even harder after that!" Alston was irritated.

"The first race will show which drivers have value and which are not coping with the new conditions. Do not worry."

There was something truly reassuring and exciting about Nelson's voice. It was as if Alston had just heard a disguised promise of something beautiful.

"Do you ... have a plan?"

"The less you know, the better for all of us."

Yes, that was the truth Don Alston had to acknowledge. He was curious about the plan his allies had to get some of his competitors out of the way to the professional track, but he knew it was better not to have certain information.

Yesterday, even this morning, he would have made sure the plan did not hurt Jack Lambert. The driver, with his sponsorship ability, was simply useful to the stable. More sponsors means better equipment and higher bonuses. Today, however, Alston's approach has clearly changed. Jack shouldn't have poked his nose in some other business. He should have passed by pretending he hadn't seen anything, meanwhile he… he dared blackmail Don!

What happened between Martin and Don was a private matter for the two of them. Nobody had the right to interfere in it. No one! Granted, Alston had taken a bit of a drag, but that was no reason for anyone to interfere. After all, he was actually the victim of the whole incident. Only he suffered physically. His bitten tongue kept pinching as Don drank the alcohol and reminded of Martin's brutal behavior. It burned the inside of his cheek, too, cut against his teeth when Martin punched him then.

But there will be time for Martin. He will definitely come. But this time not in the stable, but somewhere more neutral. The more pressing thing was getting on the track.

"Do you promise my situation will improve after the first race?" his companion asked.

"Of course. You can be calm. This will be the beginning of the end for one of your rivals. All you will have to do is wait a little longer. "

'Beginning of the end', however, did not sound as pleasant as Don wanted. If this was just the beginning, it meant waiting until the end. Meanwhile, patience really wasn't Alston's strongest point.

If he wanted something, he wanted it now, whether it was a title, position, or person.