Page 29 of Enemy
“Making out,” I tell him, surprised that having his ears played with is new to him.
“With my ear?” Clyde raises his eyebrows, leaning back against my arm, magazines in his lap.
The one on top is titledInked Studsbut I’m too aroused to laugh at it.
“Since you’re protecting the virginity of your mouth, I might as well play with this hole,” I mutter and lap up his entire ear, sliding my nose into his fragrant hair.
Clyde laughs again, shaking his head. “What am I doing? You’re such an ass.” And yet, he slides his hand over my stomach, because he can’t get enough of me even though he’s fighting it.
I love that happy sound. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before, but now I want to be its one and only cause. Humming, I cup his face and rub my lips along his brows, down his nose—only to be pushed away again when I reach his lips. He’s a hard nut to crack.
“So… what are you into?” I ask, pulling him closer, as if he didn’t just reject my kiss again.
I’m starting to see a pattern in the way he moves. He always hesitates for a second or two before settling. Clyde leans half his body against me, getting cozy under my arm. Is he sexually shy? Unused to touch? Or just that much of a control freak? I don’t know yet.
“I like big strong guys,” he says, opening the magazine to show me, and the title wasn’t messing around. I’m treated to several photos of inked studs. One has a mohawk, the other is bald, and they’re banging in some back alley. Full-on anal, the bald guy has a hand over the other’s mouth.
I swear Clyde’s breath hitches, and while the photos are arousing, especially the closeup shot of the bottom’s face, overcome with a mixture of elation and discomfort, the real porn is right here, touching my side, leaning into my touch. Warm and tasty like a pie straight out of the oven.
I rub my nose up and down his neck while I watch him turn the page with shaking fingers. In the central picture, the bottom’s looking straight at the camera as he licks thick fingers dipped into his mouth. Cum’s splattered on the side of his face and dripping onto his chest. I didn’t think there was a point to the existence of porn mags when there’s internet, but suddenly I want to have this exact one under my pillow.
It’s a glimpse into Clyde's horny brain. I bet he's getting hard under the stack of paper.
“That you?” I ask, tapping the bottom with my finger.
By now, I pretty much expect his stalling. While he might be quick to a fight, he seems to be an overthinker when it comes to me and ourthing. As if he’s resistant, but knows he can’t be if he wants to get off.
He licks those pretty lips and nods, making my stomach clench with excitement at him admitting such a thing to me. We might be in different clubs, but we’re both well aware that suck my dick is an insult, not something you should want.
“It’s hot,” he whispers, and I nod.
“That’s becauseyou’rehot. You’re making my balls boil,” I tell him, and the glance he sends me is somehow both skittish and full of yearning. For me. Formymove. After all, he’s the one who wants to be hunted down and taken.
I bury my face in his hair and nip on the skin none of his brothers will see as I place my hand on his thigh and pull it toward me, making him open his legs wider.
It’s so fucking hot that he lets me do this.
“Me? Not this guy?” he smirks and flips the page to another shot of the same guy, this time on his knees and showing off his ass to the man in nothing but ink and tall leather boots.
Is it arousing? Yes, but hardly my focus, when I’m giddy about Clyde being playful with me. I swear he’s even shifted closer so my fingers are higher up his leg.
“I’d do him,” I say and push my other hand under his T-shirt, running it up his muscular back while I breathe in his warm skin. “But you’re prettier, Blue Eyes. Now that you showed me this place, I’ll think about you on your back on this bare floor, spreading yourself as I blow all my juice inside you.”
His breath speeds up, and he’s not even looking at the porn anymore. All his attention is on me, and I feel like the center of his universe when I cup his crotch and find his cock rock-hard. Clyde lets the magazines slide off his lap and to the floor. “I want to see your dick,” he demands breathlessly as his gaze caresses me neck to thighs.
Fuck yes.
But as devil choirs roar in my ears, I manage to restrain the impulse to pluck it out myself. I didn’t have him yet, and there is an art to the lure. “This is a buffet,” I tell him and rub my palm over his crotch, watching him shiver and grab onto my T-shirt, as if he were about to faint.
It’s like we’re two beasts circling each other and testing each other’s boundaries. He’s the stag with his antlers lowered, I’m the wolf trying to get a bite.
He rocks against my hand as he reaches for my belt, but when he opens it, bent my way in the seat, he pulls back to my endless disappointment. What now? I don’t want to think anymore.
“Fuck it,” Clyde mutters and slides off the couch, knees first.
Before I know it, he’s between my thighs, unzipping my jeans without a single glance into my eyes, and while I want to see the glint of lust in his, this moment feels fragile. I don’t want to scare him off by saying the wrong thing. So I watch, my dick throbbing. The sound of the zipper is the start signal, but I rein myself in, watching the red flush spread over Clyde’s handsome features.
Finally, the fateful exchange from months ago led us here. We could have both been dead, so as risky as it is, I don’t want to live on with yearning and regret.
