Page 18 of On the Run
My cock stirred to life again, still on a hair trigger from all the adrenaline flooding my system—though, let’s be honest, with a guy who looked like Beale, I was never gonna be a tough sell—and my breath hitched.
Didn’t they say an adrenaline rush made for phenomenal sex? I didn’t know, since I tried to avoid adventure. What I did know was that I hadn’t had a decent fuck in weeks, and Beale’s enormous cock would be the perfect magic wand to bibbity-bobbity-boo all my troubles away for the moment.
“I could show you how delightful—” I purred.
But Beale glanced away quickly and—God, why was this somehow erotic?—blushed beet red again.
“No, thank you.” His voice was strained. “Would you, um, put your clothes on now, please?”
Well, damn. No magic for me.
“Could you,um, stop acting like seeing me naked is the most traumatizing part of this evening?” I rolled my eyes and grabbed a throw pillow from the bed to dangle in front of my dick, like I wasn’t genuinely disappointed by his rejection. “There. Your delicate sensibilities are protected. You know, a true gentleman would offer mecomfortin my time of need. Just sayin’.”
His eyes flew to mine, and I could almost hear his heartbeat. “Comfort?” He swallowed. “I could make you some tea if you want? Maybe Sleepytime?”
Tea? I arched an eyebrow. For half a second, I had to wonder if I was losing my touch. The dude was definitely gay—he’d confirmed it—so was he just not into me?
But no. The way his eyes were now staying very firmly above my waist, I would bet my entire shoe collection that Beale Goodman was very, very interested. Maybe he had a boyfriend or something? Was monogamy contagious down here?
Why did I even care? Since when did I give a fuck what some random dude thought of me, when I had way bigger fish to fry?
I suddenly realized that I didn’t.
“You know what? I’m done with this conversation for now. As I mentioned, it’s been a shit day, so if you’re not gonna fuck me, I’m going back to sleep,” I announced. “Areyou going to fuck me?”
Beale’s already red face turned forty shades of heart-attack puce. “N-no!”
“Figures.” I handed him his phone, threw my dick-covering pillow on the bed, and twisted to put my feet up. “Anyway, you’re welcome to sleep here or else find your own place to crash.”
“But… there’s nowhere else. All the floors in the main house are being redone while Mason and Fenn are away. There’s all kinds of nails and stuff.”
“Wow. Sounds dangerous.” I plumped my pillow.
“And I’ve been living with my dad, but his house is torn up now, also, and he and his fiancée are staying with my brother, so there’s no room there either.” He sounded panicked.
“Everybody’s renovating! How special.” I yawned. “Didn’t you help your cousin Fenn, and Mason, and your brothers find that… treasure thing—” I waved a hand airily. “—that’s worth a kajillion dollars or something?”
“The Whispering Key Treasure,” Beale supplied a little brusquely. Looked like I’d hit a nerve. “Yeah. So?”
“So, get yourself a hotel room, buddy. Or buy an entire hotel. Or book a trip. Might I suggest the Maldives? Heck, go knock on Littlejohn’s door and buy his house—he’d probably sell it to you for a case of SpaghettiOs. Or go sleep in your Lamborghini. Or sleep on the beach. Or find someone whose dick youdowant to look at and sleep with him. I’ll be here sleeping.”
“I don’thavea Lamborghini. And the motel is full—I know because my dad owns it—and it’s the only hotel on the island.”
“Too bad, so sad.” I yawned. “Two seconds ’til I’m asleep. You in, or you out?”
“I guess I could sleep on the sofa.” He looked toward the living room. I’d noticed a pink floral rattan thing that looked like it was salvaged from theGolden Girlsset out there when I came in, along with a coffee table, and a single easy chair that I doubted would fit Beale’s ass let alone his entire body.
But if he thought that was preferable to sleeping with me, whatevs.
“M’kay, then. One second.”
“Look, it’s not that I… it’s just that you…and we would…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, then blurted, “I don’t want to have sex with you.”
Well, ouch.
But annoying as it was that he kept treating me like a vile case of hemorrhoids, I’d also never seen a big guy blush that hard, and I couldn’t help finding him adorable. His eyes were earnest and sweet as a puppy’s.
“Then don’t have sex with me.” I yawned again, loud enough to make my jaw crack. “Jesus. Didn’t you have a college roommate? It’s possible to sleep without fucking.”
