Page 49 of Catcher's Lock
“Gotta warn you, though,” Gem says. “I’m not sure you’re his type.”
“Yeah?” Benji tilts his head at me. “What’s your type, handsome?”
I open my mouth to formulate a reply, but Gem beats me to it: “Dark hair, blue eyes. He’s got a thing for tongue rings.”
Benji glances over his shoulder as Gem flashes his piercing with a wicked grin.
“Is this a cuck thing?” he asks me. “Because I’m down, if that’s what you’re into.”
“No,” I say a little too vehemently, while Gem hides a laugh in his drink. “Ignore him. I’m Josha.” I hold out my hand. Benji eyes it with a glint of amusement that makes me flush. I guess handshakes aren’t really a thing in these places, but before I can take it back or turn the gesture into something less awkward—god knows what—he wraps his fingers around mine and rubs his thumb along my wrist.
“You’re adorable,” he says.
Small, blond, and way too pretty, he looks nothing like the looming menace behind him. Dredging up a smile, I shoot Gema pointed look.
“And you’re perfect.”See? I can flirt too.
Stifling my brief twinge of conscience over using him to settle some twisted score between me and Gem, I let Benji drag me toward one of the shadowy alcoves on the far side of the dance floor. Gem follows aggressively close behind.
“So, he likes to watch?” Benji asks.
“He doesn’t know what he likes.” I scowl over my shoulder at our blatantly hulking shadow, who’s looking a lot less casual now that something is actually happening.
“What doyoulike?”
We’ve reached the alcove. Even in the near-darkness and with the crowd noisily distracted by their own debauchery, I feel exposed.
“I—”I don’t know. Not this. Not the sticky floor and the overwhelming haze of bodies and lust. Not the music so loud it makes my head pound or the churn of alcohol in my stomach. Half-naked guys are getting off all around me, and my dick is cowering in my pants.
This isn’t going to work.
Gem leans against the opposite wall, jaw clenched and eyes boring into mine. He’s not going to stop this, I realize, panic fluttering behind my ribs. I set the rules, and for the first time in his life, he’s following them.Weaponizing them. Waiting for me to be the one to chicken out.
Fuck. Him.
Drawing every ounce of courage from the rage swirling inside me—and a large amount of inspiration from those books Cheyenne is always sending me—I channel my best Teddy Hamilton and drop my gaze to Benji’s waiting face.
“I want to watch you choke on my cock and swallow my cum.”
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I cringe, waiting for them both to burst out laughing. Instead, Benji drops to his knees with a happy sigh and starts unbuttoning my jeans, leaving me staring at Gem’s shocked expression. He’s not laughing. He’s frozen in place, looking at me like he’s never seen me before, and his eyes are lit with feral hunger.
Oh.
My dick stirs from its somnolent apathy, and Benji hums at my feet.
“Fuck,” he murmurs reverently. “Uncut?”
I forgot he was there.
His hand closes around the base of my shaft, and I try not to flinch. His fingers are soft and uncalloused, almost delicate.Wrong. He draws my foreskin back and flicks his tongue over my crown before sucking the head into his mouth.
It’s warm and wet, and I tip my head back against the wall, trying to lose myself in the sensation.
I’m finally getting my dick sucked, and it’s…underwhelming.
I don’t know what to do with my hands. I rest them lightly on Benji’s head as he continues to bob enthusiastically, and I will my body to cooperate. Sneaking another glance at Gem, I find his head turned away, his posture a study in boredom.
Fucking Gemiah Farrel, who’s received a million blow jobs in his life and always knows where to put his hands.
