Page 44 of Only You

I heard him chuckle. “We had a good time. We danced. We kissed. We did other stuff. You don’t remember?”

“Of course I remember. What I meant was, what happenedafterthat? We were having a lot of fun, and you were doingverynice things with your fingers, which made me scream so loudly that I probably woke the Pope. Then you just… left.”

“Your screams reminded me of being yelled at in the lobby, actually,” he replied. “It was very traumatizing, you know.”

I groaned. “Now you’ve done it. I’m embarrassed all over again and I’m going to hide in my room until the pandemic is over.”

“It was fun while it lasted.”

We laughed together. It felt good to laugh about it.

“Seriously, though. Why the sudden departure? And don’t you dare say it was my rule about the room, because I was giving youeverysignal to come inside.”

He was quiet for a few seconds while he ate. I heard silverware scraping against his plate.

“You know what the secret to a good appetizer is?” He finally asked.

“Is this going to be a cooking metaphor?” I asked.

“The secret,” he went on as if I hadn’t spoken, “is for the appetizer to be good, but don’t let it betoogood. It can’t overshadow the main course. You want to leave people hungry for more.”

“Yep, a cooking metaphor.” I sipped more wine because it helped me talk openly. “I guess I’m just surprised. You were as hard as a rock. Don’t guys get, like, blue balls?”

“Just because a guy gets hard,” Donovan said, “doesn’t mean they have to finish.”

“Now Iknowyou’re lying!”

“It’s the truth. At least, it is for me.”

I put down my empty plate and turned to face the doorway. He was wearing jeans. I was turned on from thinking about last night, and the urge to charge through the door and climb into his lap was strong. He wouldn’t have been able to walk away, then.

But then another idea came to me. An idea that would help me repay what he had done last night.

I reached through the door and around the corner. My fingers found his bicep, hard and warm beneath the soft fabric of his shirt.

Donovan snorted. “Copping a feel through the door? I feel used. Here, at least let me flex for you.”

His bicep bulged underneath my fingers. I gave it another squeeze, but that wasn’t the part of his body I was looking for. I pressed my cheek against the wall and reached farther until I felt the front of his jeans. I blindly unbuttoned them and pulled down the zipper.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Donovan said slowly. “I don’t mind being used.”

There’s no going back now,I thought.

I bit my lip and reached into his pants, underneath his boxer-briefs. And then I found it. The dick he’d flaunted in front of the hot tub yesterday, which had been pressed against my ass while we played pool and when we danced last night. It was smooth and warm and thick, and within seconds it grew fully hard in my fingers.

I pulled it out of his pants and began caressing his shaft in long, slow strokes.

He let out a long sigh on the other side of the door. “A few days ago you were awkwardly watching me in the pool, too nervous to join me. Now you’re doingthis?”

“The key difference is wine,” I breathed. My fingers tightened. “How do you like it?”

“Your pink fingernails are very nice.”

“And do you like what those fingers are doing?”

“Yeah,” he said in a husky voice. “I like it alot.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this,I thought.I’m jacking him off through the door.

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