Page 62 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

“I can cook.”

“Really?” Alex’s eyes drifted over to me, only long enough for a fizzle of heat to burn between us before his attention returned to the road.

“I make a mean steak,” I added, not sure why I was still talking about my cooking prowess. Was I trying to impress him? Is that what I was doing? Jesus Christ.

“I’m a big steak fan,” Alex purred. “I like meat in general. Don’t care what kind or size.” Was he talking in innuendo again? “And I really like to eat out. Probably my favorite hobby.”

“Eat…out?”

“Mhm. I bet you like to be eaten out—I mean—” Alex coughed, a healthy flush decorating his cheeks. “Sorry. Got distracted by my own…” He cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I’m trying to be good.”

“You’re failing.” I laughed. I couldn’t help it. And once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. For the second time that day he’d cracked through my exterior. “You…” I covered my face, snorting into my hand, embarrassed by how loud my laugh could be. “We were discussing hobbits! And now you’re talking about eating my…I mean?—”

Oh geez.

Visions of just that assaulted my senses.

Me with my pants around my knees, bent over a kitchen island after I’d cooked Alex a nice steak dinner. Those big, tan hands pulling my cheeks wide enough they stung, as his slick, clever tongue slid inside my hole. He’d be able to keep me in place, hold me open. The memory of the picture he’d taken of his hand on my thigh proved that.

Alex would be greedy about rimming me.

That much was obvious.

Alex would push and lick and suck. He’d use his teeth to make me sob. Shove his tongue in deep—add a finger, then two. Not because he was rushing to fuck me, but simply because he liked the sounds I made when Iwas full of him.

“Fuck,” Alex swore. Evidently, we’d both been thinking the same thing. I shifted, grateful my jeans hid my arousal fairly well. Alex was not so lucky. His joggers clung to his cock, thick and trapped against his thigh. One of his hands drifted from the wheel to give it a squeeze.

I was tempted to lean over, pull his waistband down, and take it into my mouth.

But…I didn’t.

I wasn’t a one and done type of man.

I was a serial monogamist.

This was flirting, and flirting only.

“What about non-hobbits?” I asked, breaking the silence for a second time. Again, something that was entirely unlike me. “Gimli is my favorite?—”

“Legolas,” Alex blurted. “God. Thoselegs. I’m a leg guy for sure.” He blinked. “Leg and ass—oh, fuck. His name’s pretty on point, isn’t it?” Again, he glanced at me, but this time his gaze scraped over my thighs. “Blonds too. I love blonds.”

“Is everything that comes out of your mouth filthy?” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Mostly.”

We chatted for another fifteen minutes, trading barbs back and forth. I learned that Alex was a secret nerd. Not even his sister knew about his anime obsession. A fact that immediately made me like him more, as I was a big fan of manga—Japanese comics—myself. I had a giant shelf at home dedicated to myBoysLovecollection that no one had ever seen—not even Brendon. It was the one thing I hadn’t wanted him to ruin for me, as he’d ruined most other things.

Eventually, we settled into comfortable silence.

I stole a few glances Alex’s way. And in return, he was touchier than before. Simple, tantalizing brushes of his fingers along my thighs, across my shoulders, as he unnecessarily checked my seatbelt after we stopped for gas.

My stomach growled when we were getting close to the turnoff leading into the mountains. No doubt Mom was already at the cabins cooking up a storm. Despite this, Alex turned off the main road and headed in the wrong direction.

“Where are we going?”

Alex didn’t explain himself. He smiled, dark brows twitching upward as he pulled into the parking lot of a local diner. After he flipped the ignition off, he twisted to look at me, that peculiar air of gentility hanging between us.

It was…addicting.

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