Page 15 of For Your Heart
And now I want to hide under the bed. I need to just not talk at all.
He sighs. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.” When my eyes light up, he clarifies. “At work. Yeah?”
Oh. Right. I nod. “Yes. Tomorrow. Okay.”
Damon nods. It looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. offering me a smile that once again doesn’t look real, he leaves the bedroom. I wait. Listening. A minute later, the front door opens and closes.
I’m alone in my house again but the smile on my face doesn’t change. I can’t make it go away. It’s a good thing I don’t have a roommate, or they’d know. They’d know I finally rode a dick, and it was everything I imagined it’d be. It was better. The best.
Leaving the bed, I’m still smiling at the way I can feel my body reminding me that things aren’t supposed to be in my ass for that long. I don’t care at all. I want thingslike thatin my ass all the time. Looking down at my spent dick, I muse that maybe a few minutes in between isn’t a bad idea though. Jeeze, that last orgasm was intense.
He made me get off twice!
Stopping in the bathroom, I move the door so the mirror faces the one above the sink. Then I shift to look at my ass in a very awkward and embarrassing position. I just want to see what my asshole looks like now that it’s had a dick in it.
It’s not as tightly puckered and when I shift just right, the ring still looks loose enough that it’s not closed all the way. Stupid that this makes me excited. Stupid that I’m still loving that there’s lube in my ass from when he was inside me just ten minutes ago!
I stand, still grinning like I just won the lottery. I just lost my gay virginity! I want to scream it. For everyone to know that I finally did it. I finally am living the life that’s true to me. My hookup was with a man, not trying to force it with a woman. I feel good after; not gross.
“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” I ask my reflection.
It’s just sex. I shouldn’t be this excited over it. But when I step out of my bathroom to get dressed, the reminder in my body that there was a dick in it is enough to have me grinning like a loon for the rest of the night.
Fuck yeah! I just had sex with a hot guy.
Best. Day. Ever.
Six
SAGE
Damon avoids me on Friday,and I obviously don’t hear from him over the weekend. Monday he meets my eyes once. Just once. I give him a big smile, which he finds amusing or whatever, and I receive one back. A little one, but it’s there all the same. I try to catch his eye a few times during the day, but I’m fairly certain he actively avoids me.
Tuesday I’m feeling frustrated and a little antsy. I want his dick again. I want to feel him and the ache is all gone.
However, he doesn’t look at me once. Even when I say hi, he doesn’t meet my eyes, though he answers the greeting all the same.
I can feel his bad mood readily enough and I have to think something is happening at home to affect him in such a way. What is he like when he’s in a good mood? When he smiles? I’d love to hear him laugh.
Damon Whitaker is gorgeous when he’s brooding and contemplating murder—I think I’m only partially joking but sometimes I swear, the look in his eyes could kill—but I bet he’s completely irresistible when he’s just… himself.
Then again, I might be projecting what I want to believe. My bestie says I do that all the time. I can imagine just about anything and want it with my whole heart enough that I have myself convinced that it’s true.
But maybe this is just how Damon is. Maybe there’s nothing going on with him and he’s just a negative Nancy. Or maybe a long-ago trauma manifested in his personality like this.
I don’t know Damon. He’s been working here for almost two months, and I don’t know Damon at all. Nothing. Except that he’s gay, has a magical dick, and cleans me up after. I know what’s on the surface. I don’t know where he came from, why he moved to Glensdale, whether he has a significant other.
Oh, no! I really hope he isn’t having an affair. Am I the other guy? OHMYGOD, what if he’s a closet gay and I’m his… secret hookup?
No, wait. That can’t be right. Can it?
“See you tomorrow, Rossi.”
I’m startled by Jennie’s voice and look at her with owlish eyes. She chuckles. “Get out of your head, you teddy bear. It’s not safe to drive like that.”
Looking around, I realize I have my hand on the front door. When did I even get here? I feel water dripping down the back of my neck and decide I clearly even managed to get through the shower. Or I’m sweating. Please, don’t let it be sweat.
“Bye,” I say absently, now a little distressed that I was so lost in my head that I missed an entire chunk of my day.
