Page 195 of Delicious

He leans in, and his breath trails over my skin as he lifts his hand and signs, ‘Hi,’ right back.

I press my fingers to his lips, thumb to his neck. “Say.”

“Hi,” he says aloud. I feel the rumbling vibration and the rush of air behind the word and the way the space under his chin bobs with the vowel.

I kiss him. I can’t help it. I want him so badly I fucking ache, and he bustles me against my car, slotting a knee between my spread thighs. He’s shorter than me, but somehow, it feels like he’s towering over me as he devours my lips and tongue.

“Mm.” His hum rumbles across my jaw.

Pulling back, I lift one hand. ‘Inside.’

He nods his fist, then takes my hand and lets me lead him to the door. I have a code—easy to punch in for Otto if he ever wants to come by and raid my fridge, which he does. Often. The door swings open, and we step inside.

It smells clean from my frantic once-over because I know myself. I knew I was going to ask him to come back with me if the date went well, and I had been determined to make the date go well. I mopped for the first time in, like, a month, and I even dusted with the weird lavender-smelling wipes my brother made from one of his harvests he planted for his bees.

Rhett and I both slip out of our shoes, and I watch him take a few steps into the foyer and look around. It’s not the largest place. A quaint little two bedroom I got from a foreclosure auction that needed a few grand in repairs.

It’s not the best, but it’s mine, and that’s all I really care about.

I lift my hands to welcome him inside, but before I can even begin to form words, he’s on me again. He presses me gently to the wall with one hand beside my head, the other just high enough for me to see him ask, ‘Okay?’

Ha. There are no words for how okay this is. I mean, it’s kind of a role reversal a bit, but I’m into it. I tilt my head back, and he lifts up on his toes again to kiss me. My knees go weak, and my dick gets hard, and I find myself rocking forward against him.

He meets me halfway into the thrust, and I moan as the friction of our cocks hits just right. ‘Please,’ I sign quickly, desperately. ‘Please. Bed.’

He laughs, and his face is somehow even more beautiful with his smile. He nods. ‘Show me.’

I kiss him for that, then grab him by the front of his shirt and haul him through the living room and past the double doors of my bedroom. It’s the larger of the two, and the messiest room in the house. I’m not sure I’ve ever made a bed in my life, but I straightened the covers a bit, and I did pick up my dirty clothes, so that’s progress.

He takes a cursory glance around, then spins us and shoves me backward. My knees hit the mattress, and I collapse on my ass. With wide eyes, I take him in as he peels away his shirt and unbuttons his pants. A single slide of a zipper, and his cock is out. It’s thick again, flushed, leaking at the tip.

I want to feel it in my mouth as much as I want to feel it in my ass.

‘Bottom or top?’ he asks.

Bold of him. I smirk and shrug. ‘Either. I’m not picky.’

His smile widens, and he closes the distance between us before dropping to his knees. It’s like he read my mind and stole all my moves, the fucker. And God, I love it. He looks up at me with doe eyes, like he’s waiting for me to order him around.

‘What do you want to do with me?’

My body gives a single heavy shudder. I have so many ideas. Ideas that will take years. ’Til we’re old and crotchety with no memory, taking little yellow pills so we can get through the list. My tongue darts over my bottom lip.

‘Suck me.’

He nods, and then his hands go for my jeans. Before I can help him, he’s got them pooled around my ankles, along with my boxers, and my dick in his hand. His gaze is fixed on where he’s holding me, stroking me too slow and too soft. The pleasure is almost pain with how tender it is, and I make a soft noise, hoping it sounds pleading instead of angry.

It must because he laughs a little, then meets my gaze as he parts his lips and takes the tip between them. His tongue swirls around it, dipping into my slit, and my eyes slam shut. Fuck, I cannot look at him. I can picture myself coming all over his face, and I don’t want this to be over so soon.

He taps my thigh, and I’m forced to look down. ‘Condoms?’

‘I’ve been tested negative,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t have any.’ Fuck, if he has to stop this…

‘None,’ he signs, then points to himself. But he doesn’t look deterred. ‘You can bottom tomorrow after we take a trip to CVS. Tonight, I’ll suck you off, and then you can let me come on your stomach.’

Oh, fuck.

‘Yes,’ my fist nods, too stiff and jerky.

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