Page 24 of Unlocked Dive
I collapse against him, peeling my hands from the steering wheel to clutch at his hips.
“I think you might be better at taking charge than you give yourself credit for,” I say, burying my face in his neck. His breath is rough and unsteady in my ear.
“Maybe my tastes are changing,” he murmurs. His fingertips stroke the fine hair at my nape, and the late-afternoon sunlight slants warm and drowsy on my back. “Is it enough?”
Instead of answering, I grip his wrist and suck my cum from his fingers, and I imagine that his galloping pulse beneath my cheek means everything I want it to.
I watch him quietly panic on the ride home, his lips still bruised from my kisses, while a local radio station plays shitty jam-band music from the nineties. My post-orgasm haze has long faded by the time he finally breaks the silence.
“Put your shirt back on. Please.” His voice is huskier than usual, with a note of desperation to it that makes me grin.
“It’s sticky.” Actually, it’s more crusty than sticky now, but the point still lands. I swear he fucking blushes, but he changes the subject before I can press my luck.
“You looked good on the silks back there, with Milla.”
Fine. Let him pretend he didn’t have my dick in his hand if he wants to.
“Gabe taught me to do star drops as soon as I could invert at the top of the silks. I’ve been doing them since I was seven.”And there’s no unlocked release.
“Gabetaught you?”
“Yeah.” The memory makes me grin. “My dad almost killed him. I’d only been in classes for about two weeks, and we weren’t supposed to be in the studio without an adult watching us.”
“Gabe didn’t count as an adult? He must have been, what? Seventeen?”
“Not to my dad. He was still in his overprotective phase back then. But I’d seen Gabe perform the trick at his show, and itlooked so cool. I wouldn’t have been able to learn it at the gym until I hit level three, and Gabe was getting ready to go off to NCC. I was impatient.”
“Imagine that.” He catches my smirk with a sidelong glance and turns quickly back to the road. “Did you and Gabe do a lot of training together?”
“Not really. By the time he got back to the States, I’d switched to the rope, and he was an actual adult with no room in his life for a little brother.”
This time, he does look at me, the sympathy on his face making me squirm.
“I told you, I grew out of that hero-worship shit a long time ago,” I remind him.Stop looking at me like a stupid child. Go back to jealous, horny Byrd.
“Why did you apply to Cici?”
“You mean because it was Gabe’s school?” I shrug. “Maybe I like proving that anything he does, I can do better.”
Something hungry flickers behind his woodland gaze, but he only turns up the music and ignores me for the rest of the drive. By the time we’re climbing the front porch to the cabin, it’s cold enough that I’ve pulled my cum-stained shirt back on, and I’m itching for him to say something. Anything.
“I’m sorry.”
Anything but that.
“That you gave me a hand job, or that you feel guilty about it?” I ask, masking my frustration with my fallback snark. He doesn’t answer, leaning against the glass doors in the living room with his hands shoved in his pockets and that familiar wary look in his eyes.
I’m fucking sick of it.
I step into his space, gratified by his sharp exhale and the heat that inevitably flares between us when I reach up to cage hishead with my hands on the glass. “Don’t be sorry. I’m not. Just tell me you have lube in this house.”
“I don’t even have condoms.” He shakes his head. “But you know it doesn’t matter because I’m not fucking you.”
I open my mouth, and he almost smiles.
“And you’re not fucking me.”
“So that wasn’t foreplay? Back there in the car?”
