Page 83 of Under the Texas Sky
Soaping up my hand, I rub myself from base to tip in gentle slides, teasing myself with what’s to come. The flesh is hot in my hand, and my nerve endings are on fire when I twist my palm across my swollen head, watching as a drop of precum beads on the tip.
I pull it down, and let it sling back up, slightly smacking against my stomach. The sound echoes off the walls, and I moan from hearing it. If I focus hard enough, I can picture Trent on his knees in front of me. Wet hair pushed back off his forehead while he stares up at me through his eyelashes. Sticking his tongue out so I can slap my cock against it.
Hearing him moan and feeling the vibrations of it against the sensitive underside of my dick. Trent rubbing my balls in his palm while he trails his other fingers across my taint and to my hole. Pressing the tip in, and the slight burn from the intrusion. Throat constricting around the head of my cock, pulling every moan from deep in my chest until I’m mumbling nonsense and begging him not to stop.
My hand speeds up around my cock, jerking in earnest now, and not caring about drawing this out. I need to come. I need to paint the shower wall with my release the way I want to paint Trent’s face. Claiming him as mine, covering him in me so he knows who he belongs to.
My cock jerks and spills, the aftershocks making my knees weak. I have to steady myself with my palm against the slick wall.
Well, that should tide me over until our date is over. Maybe I won’t maul him as soon as I answer the door.
I lied. When I answer the door, Trent’s standing there, looking downright sinful in the tight fitting light colored blue jeans and black button down shirt with pearl buttons, and I’m a freaking goner. I need him to bend me over the bed right now and pound into me until I forget my own name. But that’s not what this is about. This is about us dating and being intentional in our thoughts and feelings toward one another.
But why does he have to look so freaking good doing it? Can he not tell how much he is tempting me right now?
The smirk on his face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing, the freaking jerk.
“Hi,” he says,
“Hi,” I say breathlessly. My smile is wide, and I can feel an ache in my cheeks from it.
“Can I come in?” he asks, and I realize that I’ve been too busy ogling him to step aside and let him enter the hotel room.
But if I let him in now, any chances of us going on our date tonight will be vanquished. And I really want him to take me on this date.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” I say, looking up at him and tilting my head slightly to the side.
“And why is that?” His tone is innocent, but I don’t believe it for a second.
“Because then we’ll miss our date, and I’ll be sad.”
“Well, I can’t have that. Are you ready?”
I nod my head quickly and step closer to him so I can shut the door behind me. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
CHAPTER 66
TRENT
I’m afraid as we walk to my truck. The cold air bites at my cheeks and does nothing to help the panic building in my stomach. Kian walks beside me with his hand in mine. He looks so fucking good, with his loose curls blowing in the wind, and his septum ring showing off the cute upturn of his nose. He’s a sight to see.
The reason I’m afraid is because I have a horrible sense ofdéjàvuwhen we get closer to my truck. The gift that I have sitting in my front seat in a pretty gift bag with a bright gold bow. So similar to when we were teenagers, working our way through life and struggles together.
His hand is warm and soft in mine, and I grip it tighter before releasing it and opening the door for him. He smiles at me and leans in to press a chaste kiss against my mouth. The warmth of his lips combined with the cinnamon gum he’s chewing is a temptation all on its own.
“What’s this?” Kian says when he turns to get in the truck and sees the bag.
“It’s nothing, just something small.” Something small, and he’s going to think it's dumb when he opens it and sees what’s inside, but it’s too late to take it back now.
That’s not true. That’s just my brain talking. And as Karuna says, sometimes my brain doesn’t come up with the best case scenarios. It always focuses on the worst case. That way whenstuff goes bad, at least I won’t have my hopes crushed. It’s a way to protect myself from being hurt, and I don’t want to do that with Kian anymore. I trust him to protect my heart, because my heart has lived outside of my body since I was a sixteen year old boy who didn’t know what love truly meant.
His greedy fingers grab the bag, and I wish we could at least get in the truck so I’m not awkwardly standing here watching while he opens it. The impulse to twiddle my fingers is there, but I keep them tucked tightly into the pockets of my blue jeans.
“Trent–” He stops what he’s saying, staring at me.
I stare right back, willing him to finish his sentence so I don’t have to try to guess what he’s going to say. Even if he’s less than enthused, that’s fine. As long as he doesn’t outright hate it, I’ll be fine. I’m putting my heart on the line with this gift and I need him to know how much that means to me. How much his love means to me.
“If you don’t like it, I can return it.” I actually can’t, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’ll just keep it hidden somewhere until the day I die and maybe my great-great grandkids will be able to sell it.
