Page 122 of Devil’s Disciples

I wedged my hands under my armpits and gave her a look. “I don’t believe you.”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

There was a fine line between making sexually suggestive comments and being a complete asshole, and it was a line I tried not to cross.

I decided to change the subject.

“How’d you know I wear size thirteen?” I asked.

“Just a guess.”

I pressed my palm against my cock and almost sprained my wrist in the process. Her teasing about being a professional dick sucker was working and working well. My stiffy was redefining what it meant to be hard. I decided one last half-hearted request wouldn’t hurt.

“You sure about this ‘not tonight’ shit?” My voice was laced with hope – like a kid asking to open one of his Christmas presents on Christmas Eve. “What about just a taste?”

“Not tonight,” she said dryly.

She wasn’t like the women who normally gave it up as soon as I asked for it. She was playful, sexy, liked history, and she had guts.

“Fine,” I said. “Not tonight.”

“Hopefully one day,” she said with a smile.

“We really need to change the subject,” I said with an exhaustive sigh. “My dick’s so hard it hurts.”

She looked under the edge of the table. Upon seeing me wrestling with my woody, she shifted her eyes to meet mine. “Could you move your hand, please?”

I raised my hand, so she could see it.

Her eyes fell to my lap. After a short study, she looked up. “Impressive.”

“Not impressive enough to make you reconsider?”

“Afraid not.”

We talked about food, motorcycles, and, of all things, the advantages of buying quality tires versus cheap ones. It came to me as the evening ended that I liked being in her presence, which was something new to me.

It wasn’t as if someone flipped a light switch, or that I was slapped with the hand of reality. It resembled warm molasses slowly oozing over my body, engulfing me in a new belief.

After I paid the bill, we both stood.

“I really had fun,” she said.

“So did I.”

“Do it again tomorrow?” I asked.

“How’s next weekend sound?” she replied.

It sounded like it was a fucking week away. I didn’t want to go a week without seeing her again. I wasn’t sure if it was the lure of the blowjob, or if it was the differences I saw in her that caused me to be drawn to her.

I guessed it didn’t matter. I felt how I felt, regardless.

“It sounds like it’s a week away.”

“I’m not having sex with you tomorrow, Cash.”

“What if I said I didn’t want you to? If I just wanted to spend some more time talking?”