“Ew, keep that PDA locked up!” someone shouts, and Caleb pulls his mouth away from mine and glances over to a group of people shooting us looks, some amused and some with their faces screwed up in annoyance.
“Don’t be jealous that I have the hottest piece of ass here,” Caleb shouts, and I nearly melt into the floor. Why he insists on declaring things about me being hot is beyond me.
Caleb doesn’t seem to mind the shouts back, just presses a kiss to my temple and whispers, “There’s nothing to be jealous of. Can’t get enough of you. They all know this.”
I close my eyes, but they’re forced open when he adds, “By the way, my ass still hurts. Think I saw a handprint on my left cheek in the mirror.”
I wet my lips and then brush a finger across his mouth. He pulls it in, sucking on it, making my cock hard.
“Shouldn’t have been such a smart ass then,” I reply, and he rolls his eyes as I pull my finger from him.
“Worth it. I’d do it more often if it gets you to do that thing with your tongue again.”
I try to stand up, to put some space between us, but he just holds on to me tighter.
“Not yet.”
I shouldn’t let him do this, but I’m a total pushover when it comes to him.
“You’ve been distant,” he says softly when I relax into him.
My eyes sting at those words. “I’ve been busy.”
“Nah, there’s something else. Will you tell me, Whit? Let me in?”
I stiffen against him, my head pounding. “There’s nothing to tell, Caleb.”
He presses a soft kiss on my neck before loosening his arms around me. I don’t like that he lets go so quickly. Will he let me go this easily when he finds out the truth?
I stand up and look down at him.
He stares back, and my hand extends toward him, an olive branch. He takes it easily, just like he always does, and I guide him to the food table.
Handing him a plate, I ask, “Are you packed for our trip?”
He stares at me, and I huff a laugh.
“Fine, we’ll pack when we get back. And youwilluse that duffel bag I bought you. If I see that plastic bag one more time…”
“That bag has served me for many years,” he replies as he shovels food onto his plate.
“You got it at a Walmart. I threw it away, by the way.”
He rolls his lips between his teeth and shrugs. “I’ll find another.” When I just glower at him, he grins. “Just kidding, babe. I love the bag you got me. I promise to use it from now on.”
Then he leans over and kisses me, full of tongue and teeth.
It ignites something inside of me, and I lean over and say softly, “When we get home, I’m going to spank that ass red again and then fuck you into the mattress. Maybe I’ll even find another one of your deplorable plastic bags and tie you up with it, so you’ll have no choice but to let me do whatever I want to you.”
He inhales sharply, and I see his free hand move down to his crotch, adjusting himself.
I love that my words can send him into a frantic, horny state. It’s amazing to watch.
“You know when you say things like that, how I get,” he hisses when we finally sit down. “You’re literally torturing me. And at Friendsgiving, no less. It’s shameful, man.”
I reach beneath the table and brush my knuckles across his hard length, making him nearly choke on his mashed potatoes.
“I think we should just go now,” he says, his food forgotten.
