Page 8 of The New Guy
But there’s also something a little vulnerable about him that’s hard to pin down. Like his aggression may be disguising a case of nerves. Maybe we’re both a little outside our respective comfort zones.
And what’s more fun than that?
“Goddamn,” he pants, breaking our kiss. “You are just what I didn’t know I needed.”
This lights me up. Specifically my dick, which is fighting to get out of my boxers and into his. “I bet you say that to all the guys,” I whisper. And then I nudge my hips against his.
He makes a sound that’s half moan, half laugh. “It’s been a long time for me. Now I’d better take you home and suck you off before I forget how that works.”
Omifuckinggod. “Yes please.”
He tugs me off the wall and steers me down a side street. It’s not the same route I took to get here, but at least he’s heading in roughly the same direction as my own Brooklyn street.
At least I think so. Hope I can find my way home after this little adventure is over.
Although it’s hard to worry too much when there’s a hot, horny man marching me down the sidewalk. When we reach the corner, the crosswalk light turns red, I almost let out an unmanly whimper of disappointment as the traffic begins flooding past us. I console myself, though, by placing a hand on Hudson’s very firm ass.
And, wow, it’s like a boulder. “You must spend a lot of time doing squats.”
He whirls around, laughing. It transforms his face, honestly. He looks five years younger when he laughs. “Oh you have no idea.” He looks over his shoulder again, and for a second I think he’s checking for onlookers.
But nope. He was just searching out another surface against which to press my willing body. His firm hands land on my chest, and my ass lands against a sign kiosk. Then his tongue invades my mouth a second later.
Desire swamps me again. I fumble a hand between us and shamelessly cup his fly.
“Fuck yes,” he grunts into my mouth. “Can’t wait to get these clothes off you.”
It’s not Shakespeare, but it works on me nonetheless. I nip his lip and then use both hands to lift his jaw so I can lick a stripe up his neck. His stubble scrapes my tongue as he growls happily. The vibration goes straight to my balls.
And I realize with a start that I’d forgotten how this feels. Not just the promise of sex, but of adventure. My inner wild man is waking up after alongslumber. And he is ready to party.
“Let’s go,” he whispers hoarsely, probably because the light just turned green.
But then, changing his mind, he cups my face in one hand and gives me a steamy kiss. Our gazes lock, and I see my own joy reflected back at me in his brown eyes.
Tonight is turning into a fantastic, unexpected gift. And I don’t intend to squander it. I push off the kiosk and grip his elbow. “We can make it,” I insist, even as the walk sign is counting down its last few seconds.
Chuckling, he hurries across the street with me. “This way.” We speed walk past some low slung buildings.
They’re familiar, actually. I’ve been on this block before. “What street do you live on?” I ask.
“Henry,” he says.
“So do I.”
He glances toward me. “Really? What address?”
“Forty-one.” I point up the block. I recognize the deli on the corner we’re approaching, too. We’re close.
He comes to a sudden stop. “You’re shitting me.”
Uh-oh. “No, I’m not. Just moved in yesterday. Three bedroom apartment. Second floor.”
His mouth hinges open in an expression of pure horror. “Fuck no. There’s a little kid next door. And a woman. I saw her. Lotsa tattoos. Are youmarried?”
“No!” I yelp. “That’s mysister.”
He closes his eyes and then shakes his head. Like he hopes I’m not there when he opens them again.
