“I know,” he said, but the lovely smile didn’t fade from his pretty face. “We’ll work on it.”
Was that his master plan? To spend the weekend working on me and wearing me down until I gave in to what he wanted? Myimmediate response was that I had to be strong and be sure not to let myself go. But a tiny part of me, that I almost didn’t want to admit existed, was excited to let him try.
The rest of the ride was easy. We just talked about mutual acquaintances and TV shows we were both watching and what he wanted to do at the beach. I wished it could always be like this between us, because I did feel comfortable and at ease with him, when I wasn’t trying to deny and avoid acting on my obsession.
He had this really cute habit of reading out road signs and billboards as we passed them. If it had been anyone else, I was sure I would have been annoyed. But he was just so genuine and enthusiastic, I couldn’t help but find it endearing. But as we got close to the city, there was one giant billboard that featured an array of ocean creatures on it.
“Oldport Aquarium, discover the wonder,” he said, then paused. When I glanced over, his eyebrows were furrowed together and his expression was subdued. “I didn’t know there was an aquarium here.”
“Me neither,” I answered, just so the silence wasn’t so heavy and tense. It was before I’d met him, of course, but I knew the aquarium in our city was the last place he’d been able to go out and have fun with his mom before the cancer had gotten really bad. And she’d gotten him the stuffed clownfish in the souvenir shop on their way out. “Do you… Want to go?”
I didn’t know if it was okay for me to ask that, but I had to say something.
“Um… I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to, and it’s okay if you do want to.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks,” he answered softly, almost too soft for me to hear. He was staring at my profile again, but I was afraid to look overat him now. If he had tears in his eyes I was worried I’d crash my truck in a panic to brake and comfort him.
“No problem.”
After a minute of watching him scroll on his phone in my peripherals, he spoke again. “It’s not too far, only about 20 minutes from our hotel. There’s a lot of tattoo shops around here, too,” he observed.
Desperate to keep going with the subject change, I forced out an amused snort. “You looking to get a permanent souvenir?”
He let out a tiny little laugh and shook his head. “If I ever get a tattoo, I would want it from you.”
“Really?” The word tumbled out before I could stop it.
“Duh. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.” But the idea had an excited buzzing sensation slipping around in my veins, my dick twitching and pressing up into the zipper of my jeans. Why did the idea of tattooing him turn me on so much? “Your dad would kill me, anyway.”
“My dad doesn’t have to know about everything I do,” he informed me matter-of-factly, and we both knew what he was implying with that sentence.
“Would you… Get it somewhere he couldn’t see it?”
Whywas I asking that? What the fuck was wrong with me? And why did I keep looking over at him so I could watch him while he answered?
Biting down into his lower lip, he blinked at me. “Of course. You would be the only one who knows about it. It could be our little secret.”
My breath rushed out, my fingers tightening on the steering wheel until my knuckles went pale. Was I seriously this hard over talking about a damn tattoo? He hadn’t even touched me, but my body had snapped to attention like he’d cast a spell on me.
“I guess you like that idea,” he murmured, and when I glanced over he was staring at my lap, where the outline of my stiff cock was showing loud and clear through my jeans.
My mouth was too dry to say anything, even though I knew I should reprimand him or at least tell him to stop ogling me. But the way his eyes were locked on me was mesmerizing. His scent, intensified by his own arousal, suddenly filled the tiny space. It drowned me in lollipops and gummy bears until my mouth was flooded with saliva, and my cock was starting to throb.
“You should let me get you off,” he offered, and his voice was soft and husky and drenched in sex like he’d done it a million times. Like he wasn’t a peppy little virgin that slept with a stuffed animal and still listened to the theme song of the cheesy show he’d loved as a kid. “I’ll swallow so it doesn’t make a mess.”
A strangled little noise somehow burst out through the desert dryness of my throat. “Jesus fucking Christ, Jordy.”
“What? Have you never done this before?”
“Have you!?” I snapped, glaring in his direction.
