Page 69 of ILY
My hand flattens over my chest, and I make a small circle near my heart. ‘Please.’
Leaf’s expression darkens. ‘Good boy.’ He mouths along to make sure I understand what he’s saying.
I’m still not used to being calledboy, but I really love the way he signs that. I don’t get a chance to respond. Not with words and not with my hands. He pinches my chin between his thumb and fingers and then shoves his tongue into my mouth.
It’s messy and wild and completely inelegant, and I love every fucking second. I’m hard almost immediately, rocking against him as he shoves a knee between my thighs and grinds. He lets me roll my hips for a bit, then slows us down.
I know where this is going, and I groan because I don’t want to.
‘More later,’ he signs.
My head thuds back against the wall, and he grins, leaning in to steal one last kiss before stepping back. I’ve only been in his house for a second, so I give myself a moment to really look at him.
This is the first time I’ve seen him in something other than raggedy farm clothes or sweats. Or short shorts, which leave nothing to the imagination. Not that I don’t love those.
But seeing him in a very nice pair of jeans, which make his ass look amazing, and a short-sleeve polo that hugs him just right around the ribs gets me going.
Everything about him does, it seems.
I make a show of adjusting my dick, and he laughs. The sound is pitched perfectly, so I can hear it as I feel it, rumbling across my skin. Cupping his cheek, I draw him in to take a kiss of my own, and he lets me for a long, slow, indulgent moment.
“Come on,” he says aloud as he curls his hand around my wrist and gently pries it from his face. “I’m starving.”
I have no choice but to follow.
We take his car since I don’t know where we’re going, and as we head down the road, I suddenly hear a familiar melodic ping in my right ear. My hearing aid is dying.
Fuck.
If the right one is going, the left isn’t far behind.
He waves his hand in my periphery, and I look over. “What’s wrong?” He signs it for good measure.
“Hearing aid battery is dying. Dinner might get complicated.”
He rolls his eyes. “I sign, remember? And we’re going to a spot where you can go voice-off if you want.”
My brows lift. “A Deaf event?”
He gives me a look. “I actually want to fuck tonight, not spend three hours while someone talks about their kid studying for their SATs.”
“That sounds very specific.”
He pulls a face. “It was. The last event I was at was full of people who live very different lives than I do. A lot of parents. Not my scene or what I’m interested in.”
I feel kind of good about that. The couple of people I did attempt to date seriously in my younger years did want kids, and that was never something I’d wanted.
I do know what he means though. When I was handling Denver’s stalker case and taking his ASL class, he brought me along to a couple of events, and by the time we got through with all the goodbyes, I was ready to sleep for a week and knew way too much about Sharon and the cats she had when she was growing up.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Couple of Deaf friends own this little spot near the edge of town. It’s not Deaf only, but all the servers are ASL fluent. We can chill and relax.”
I’m not so sure that’s true. It’ll be a place he’s well-known, and people will ask questions about who I am, and how we met, and the dreaded, “What do you do for a living?”
Oh god. I need to tell him about his aunt, about what I found.
“I’m undercover,” I blurt nervously.
