Page 22 of Strong Side

Probably.

I’m a few steps behind, but I manage to jog to the door and hold it open for him before he’s practically sprinting up to the register. Their menu reads that they don’t pre-make anything, so youneed to allow time for them to be made. Clay puts the order in for lord knows how many damn pastries and has his black card out before I can even pull my wallet out. I roll my eyes and head toward the tables in the back lining the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

I sit down in the ornate black metal chair, which is as cool-looking as it is uncomfortable. This thing looks like it may break, but it’ll be fine, right? That’s how I know the food is about to be fire, because it looks very questionable in here. It can go two ways: we may walk out of here with food poisoning or it will be the best food to ever make it in our mouths.

“They said like ten minutes,” Clay says, walking up and setting down the two coffees he also got for us.

“Why do you look like a kid in a candy shop?”

“You’re going to make fun of me if I tell you, and you need no more ammo.”

“I’m going to make fun of you regardless, so you might as well tell me.”

Like he really is embarrassed about this, his words come out in a rush, “I bake when my anxiety is getting the best of me. It empties my head enough to not feel the pressure I do from every other part of my life.” Fuck I wasn’t expecting that.

Taking a note out of Clay’s book, I try to lighten the mood with humor for once. “You going to bake for me,Garotão?” I don’t want to brush off his struggle with anxiety, but I can tell he really doesn’t want to talk about it right now.

I’ll store this in the back of my head for later.

He leans back and scoots his hips up to get comfortable, and all I can do is stare at his fucking crotch.

He clears his throat and says, “You like what you see, Baby?” That fucking smirk and those goddamn perfect teeth are going to be the death of me.

I shake my head, stuttering out, “Y-yeah, fuck off, Clay.” He knows the pull he has on me, and the shithead keeps playing.

The morning after my birthday, I could feel myself falling face first for this man, and I haven’t stopped since.

Of course, I’m not saying a word about it; I’m just trying to remain blissfully ignorant, living in my delusions. I woke up in Jax’s spare room, with Clay beside the bed, curled up in the fetal position. I laid there with my pounding head for way too long, just watching him sleep. Now that I think about it, my head should’ve been hurting a lot worse than it was; I really dove off the deep end when Clay rubbed his cock up against mine. He woke up not long after I did and immediately started talking a mile a minute. I should’ve known he was agoddamn morning person… but I found myself smiling anyways.

1 The hotel room tonight will be the real test of my willpower.

I pull myself out of my daydream, thanking whoever the hell people pray to nowadays that we’re in the back of the cafe, in the middle of the day on Bourbon Street because my cock has other plans right now. My body must be having some sort of visceral reaction because anytime I’m near him, my dick is at half-mast…minimum.

The lady behind the counter brings our order out and sets the bag down in front of us, along with a pair of plates so we can eat a few here. The moment the bag hits the table, the delicious aroma floods my senses.

Clay pulls one out, sets it on my plate, and then grabs one for himself. “I gave you a plain one. I snatched the jelly, but we can share if you want to try some of mine.” He shoots me a wink, picking his up and taking a bite.

He lets out a feral moan, and when I say feral, I mean it. I feel my cheeks blushing as I feel all the blood in my body rush straightto my cock.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. Rocky, this is so good. You have to try it.” Before I can even argue, he’s thrusting the damn pastry into my mouth, ensuring I touch the part that his lips have as well.

That shouldn’t be that hot.

I can’t lie and say the moaning wasn’t deserved. I groan out, “Fuck, that is good.”

He takes another bite, getting to the filling. Some of the jelly gets onto the side of his mouth. I reach out and swipe it off of his lip, making sure I run the pad of my thumb over his pouty bottom lip. He lets out another moan, all while looking me right in the eye while I suck the jelly clean from my thumb.

An impulsive urge takes over me as I let go of my thumb and tell him, “You moan so pretty,Garotão.You know… I have a recording to prove it.” I’m smirking, but not for long. His eyes go dark, and he grabs the bagged pastries and my arm, dragging me out of the cafe.

1. Triggered - Chase Atlantic

15

Erotic Audio

Rockwell

He’s been dragging me down Bourbon Street a couple of blocks when I finally ask, “Clay, what’s wrong?” Ignoring my question entirely, he continues stomping down the street.

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