Page 49 of Outcast
But the ink was another story. It softened him somehow, even with its broad strokes and lack of color. Maybe it was the artist in me, appreciating the flow of ink over his shoulder, the abstract design curving around his biceps, the seamless transition into the tire treads tracking across his elbow, leading to the portrait of a woman on his forearm.
I reached out. “Can I…”
Gray took my wrist and guided my fingers to the ink on his arm. I traced the arc of a dark, thick line over his shoulder and down to his pec, where a barbed-wire heart rested.
“Why this?” I asked, lightly touching each barb that looked sharp enough to cut, even if it was only ink on skin.
“It’s for my brothers,” he said roughly. “So I’d never forget where I came from, even if I could never go back.”
I glanced up, meeting his dark, intense eyes, and my heart skipped. This was just a hookup. Myfirsthookup. So why did the pain in his voice make mehurtfor him?
“You’re back now,” I said softly.
“I guess I am.”
I bent to kiss the center of that sharp-edged, ragged heart, then gave in to the urge to trace his ink with my tongue.
He tensed beneath me. “You’re killin’ me here, golden boy.”
I pulled back and glanced up. “What do you?—”
Gray pulled me into a rough, wet kiss. “Need more. Can’t wait.”
He pushed me back against the car and dropped to his knees in front of me.
I sucked in a sharp, startled breath.
Seeing a man like Gray go to his knees for me made my head swim. He was the opposite of Dallas. Taller, broader, more confident. He put off pure alpha vibes. And yet…
He didn’t need to push me to my knees to prove he was stronger.
“Can I blow you?” he asked, voice husky. “I’ve been thinking about it all damn night.”
“Really?”
He looked up at me, his lips hooking up at one corner. “Yeah, golden boy. You look good enough to eat.”
Heat rushed through me. More lust than embarrassment this time. My cock throbbed in my pants, fully on board with Gray’s suggestion.
I reached for my jeans button with trembling hands. “Please. Yes. Hurry.”
With a chuckle, he helped me tug my jeans and boxer briefs to mid-thigh, baring my aching cock. I had only a second to think about the fact I was dropping my pants for a man. Then his mouth was enveloping me, hot and wet, and I could only fall into sensation.
I collapsed back against the car, letting it take my weight as I spread my legs as wide as my pants would allow.
Gray worked his tongue up the underside of my cock, giving me a wet, sensuous stroke as his mouth tightened around me.
“Fuck,” I gasped.
He made a rumbling sound of approval that shot sparks of pleasure up and down my shaft. My balls ached with envy, but even as the thought entered my mind, Gray was grasping my sac and squeezing gently.
I groaned at the absolute perfection of a man between my legs.
My eyes slipped closed, pleasure overwhelming me, but I forced them open again. I didn’t want to miss a second of that strong jaw flexing as Gray swallowed my dick.
He held my gaze—a boldness to him that made me realize that even on his knees, he was the one in charge. That eased the last of my nerves.
Gray would make sure this was good. He’d take care of us both.
