Page 36 of Spark
"I could have fun watching paint dry, as long as I was doing it with you." The words are quiet, as if he’s saying them to himself. But he’s not.
I freeze in my tracks and tug him to me. Who cares that we’re in the middle of a busy sidewalk blocking pedestrians on a Friday evening? I need to kiss this sweet, kind, irresistible man, and I need to do it now. He grunts in surprise when his chest hits mine, but his lips are pliant and demanding. The semi that is my constant companion when Mateo is present is full and stiff within seconds of his body pressing against mine.
“We need to get to my place. Now.” I tug on his hand and start speed walking. “Where are you parked?”
His eyes are a little glazed, and a sheen of moisture covers his lips. “I parked in the lot on Second Street.”
“Let’s go.” I yank on his hand again because the man is not moving fast enough. I’mthisclose to swinging him over my shoulder and taking off in a run for his truck.
“What about your car?”
Not breaking my stride, I hurry across the crosswalk before the light changes. “I took a rideshare here.”
In the relative privacy of Mateo’s truck, we weave through the streets of Philadelphia. Friday night traffic is a bitch. Hand on his thigh, I explore. With every rub, the muscles underneath my fingertips twitch and hop. I let the tip of my finger graze the hard outline in his jeans. At the shift of his hips, I fully cup him. His heat blazes, searing my hand, and when he groans a place deep within me ignites.
"You keep doing that, and we won't make it to your place." His breathing is short and shallow, and his words are strained with need.
Flipping open his button, the satisfyingzipof his fly coming down is only matched by the sweet relief of holding his silky hard length in my hand. “I can’t wait.”
I want him in my mouth, want to swallow him whole, want to taste the salty sweetness that is him. Instead, I increase the pressure of my grip on him and continue with unhurried strokes. It’s dangerous and reckless but with Mateo, I’m ready to toss all caution out the window. Staying focused on the road, he removes one hand from the steering wheel and places it over my hand, effectively putting an end to my ministrations. At least one of us has sense because right now, my lust-filled brain has knocked out my rational brain, which is lying unconscious on the mat as the ref counts out ten.
“Tell me we’re almost there.” His voice is hoarse and strained.
"Make a left here." I point with my right hand while keeping him firmly in my hold with the other. As we approach, I pull out my phone and punch in a code. The gate to the garage opens, and Mateo pulls in next to my Acura.
As soon as he shifts to park, he lunges at me. Taking my mouth, tugging my hair, and altogether plundering me. “You’re going to pay for tormenting me,” he says between nibbles and bites and the clanking of teeth.
The frenetic energy swirls and churls making my head cloudy and weightless. Somehow I find the handle and push open the door. “Come,” I mouth against his lips. “House.”
He grunts his agreement, and we part. Outside of the vehicle, Mateo follows me into the house. His hands roam my hips, my ass, my cock, but it’s not enough. I need skin.
His.
Mine.
Ours.
Dark ensconces the mudroom. The ridge of his cock presses against my ass as we move through the darkened house. Our hurried steps resonate across the hardwood floors.
I should give him a tour, show him the work I’ve done on the place, but the only thing I want, the only thing I can think of, is learning his body. We bypass the dim living room, and the thumping of my heart speeds to double-time.
Arms wrap around my waist, whiskers scratch my neck, and I clasp the hand that is fumbling with my belt. Keeping him close, I lead us to the master bedroom. The earlier surge of desperation has mellowed into the long, low hum of anticipation. Wanting to see every delicious inch of him, I hit the light switch and turn in his grasp, draping my arms around his neck.
“What do you want, Finlay?” The baritone of his voice, dark and delightfully dirty, sends shivers seizing the sensitive space on my skin.
“You.”
The rumble of his chest vibrates against mine. He bites the skin at the base of my neck before swirling his tongue over it. "How do you want me?"
I can’t think. I can’t form a sentence. The touch of his mouth and stroke of his tongue are… oh so distracting. “You, in me.”
“You want me to fuck this sweet ass?” He squeezes my butt. “And what if I want to suck you off? Are you okay with that?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Nimbly, his fingers start on the buttons of my shirt at the same time I push down his already opened pants. I run my hands under what’s left of his clothing. The dichotomy of his smooth skin against firm muscles and the tickle of the fur covering his pecks is intoxicating, and all I can think is,more. My chest bare, he takes a nipple in his mouth. A tingle jolts to my dick, pre-cum wetting my boxers. When his teeth clamp down for the briefest of instances, my head drops back on a moan. I tear at his shirt, discarding it, and for the first time, I have a full view of his glorious body.
"Damn." My appreciation is evident, and the sexy man just grins.
