Page 5 of Finding Alfred
I stuck my tongue out and gave him a raspberry. “Whatever.”
“Did you send him a note that said check yes or no? Seriously, Jack, here’s some advice on this one. Leave Alfred alone. Sometimes you have to back off and let them come to you.” He waved his arm, palm up, as if sweeping the world with it.
“Is that what you did? When you were pining over Eddy? You know, when he went back home, leaving you hanging?” I felt like rubbing it in. They’d worked everything out in the end, so it felt safe to pick at, and obviously, I needed to bring him into my frustration; misery loves company and all the old cliches.
He jabbed a finger at me. “We’re talking about you.” He turned away, muttering, “Stop being a grump or I’ll kick you out of the store.” Then he headed back to the bakery counter.
Whatever. Leaving Alfred alone wasn’t an option here. I needed to remind him why we would work so well together. How hot it had been making out with him and showing him why he should want more sexy time with me.
I started planning…
And…sent him a text.
Hopefully, that wasn’t over the top. But damn, it was constantly on my mind. His dick in my hand, rubbing against mine. Yes, please, and more, more, more!
The rest of my plan started with stalking the front door of Pints ‘n Pool, where he was staying. I left the bookstore and waited a few doors down, where I watched without looking too obvious. At least to the casual viewer…
He was walking up the sidewalk. Fuck! What was I going to do now? I hadn’t planned quite that far. “Al! Al!” I waved and jogged over to him.
Alfred stood there, wide-eyed and awkward, not sure what to do. He side-eyed the front door, and I knew he was trying to escape inside. “Uh. Jackie. Hi. What’s up?”
“Hey. How’s the house hunting going?” I purposely stood a little too close, hoping he’d feel my vibes and maybe fall into my arms.
“Uh…you were in the bookstore when we finished…” It had been his third or fourth trip out with Evelyn. But then he’d disappeared the rest of the day, and I suspected he went to the office.
“So, nothing yet. Right?”
“Yeah.” He thumbed toward the front door.
I didn’t want him to leave yet, but maybe… “Can I buy you a drink? Maybe play a game of pool?” I followed him inside.“Come on.” Grabbing his arm, I dragged him to the bar. “Whatcha having?”
“Nothing. I’m tired, Jackie. I want to go to bed.”
“It’s not all that late. Want food instead?”
“Seriously, no. Some other time.” He scrambled away, heading up the stairs that led to the apartments. Just damn. That didn’t go well. Why was I such an idiot over this guy?
Going home alone was also not in the plan, but that’s what I did. Home and sitting on my front porch with a beer. It was quiet and peaceful, and perfect for letting my thoughts wander.
Was I a perv, sitting there thinking about Alfred? Probably. But he was incredible. I’d never wanted anyone like this before. When he pulled his hair up in a messy bun or pony, and I saw his sweet face, I wanted to touch him and kiss him. It was torture every time he came into the store.
My dick started getting hard and I’d hardly even thought about what I wanted to do with him. I adjusted my cock, spreading my legs, giving it a little more room. All that did was make my thoughts go dirtier. I wanted him naked beneath me or on top of me. It didn’t matter which way; I wanted him every way possible. Wanted to stick my hand down his pants...
The need to unbutton my jeans was real. I popped the button, stuck my hand in, and squeezed. There was no one around for miles, and if someone did show up, I would hear them long before they got close enough to see what I was doing.
The denim got shoved down low enough to get my dick out and stroke it a couple of good times. Pre-come leaked out the top, and I rubbed my palm over it for lube. Then I imagined what Alfred would do if he were here. Would he get on his knees in front of me? Tickle his fingers along my bare thighs? Lean in and open that sweet, sweet mouth?
Fuck!This was going to happen fast. Everything about the moment felt intense. Maybe it was being outside, maybe it washow close I was to getting what I wanted—No. What I needed. Because I needed that man in my life. Despite what it looked like, it really wasn’t even the sex. That might have been where we started, but I wanted to see his eyes sparkle when he smiled. I wanted to enjoy his laughter and wake up beside him in the morning.
But no denying that I wanted the sex too, and pictured it as I jacked off on my front porch. Our legs twining and rubbing together, our torsos pushed against each other, our dicks in each other’s hand. I didn’t need much more than that and coming proved it. I came so hard, I leaned forward, gripping my cock tightly while the stars played in my vision.
The next morning, I got up early and shot off a quick text before driving into town.
As the sticky buns were being delivered to Books Beans and Buns, I grabbed one, hot and fresh right off the tray, along with his favorite coffee. And rushed out to wait near Pints ‘n Pool again. A few people came and went, waved or not. Most did, but not everybody in this town loved or even liked me much. Fuck them anyway. It was my home, and I wasn’t going anywhere.
Brock and I had been hellions when we were younger. And I pretty much got blamed for most of it because everyone loved Pops and Brock by proxy. While my old man was a drunk who left town before I started school. I barely remembered him and what I did wasn’t good. My uncle helped my mom raise me, and he passed while I was in college, leaving me the cabin. He was probably the only one outside of Brock and Pops who gave a shit about me. Mom hardly noticed me growing up. To her credit, she was working at a diner the next town over to make ends meet and actually feed me once in a while. She lived in Hartsville now and still didn’t give a fuck about me. I never saw her. She might as well have lived in Siberia. I sent her cards on the appropriate holidays, like Christmas and her birthday but never got anything in return. I didn’t need her though. Never had. Hell, Unc and Pops were enough. And I still had Brock, and now Eddy by extension. And Paige and Sharon. They were family. That’s what mattered.
But then there was Alfred walking out the door. He was something altogether different. I held up his coffee. “Al. Got you something.” I handed him the coffee, which he took with a mumbled thanks, but he waved away the bun. “It’s so fresh though…”
