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“You’ll lie there and listen to me come,” I said. “And when I’m done, you’re going to get dressed without touching yourself. The next time you come belongs to me. The next hand on your cock is mine. Do you understand?”
The long pause on the other end was filled with his uncomfortable movements as he tried to find a way to alleviate the need in him.
“Yes,” he whispered finally. “I understand.”
“Good boy,” I said. “Now, listen closely.”
I fell into a steady rhythm, chasing my own relief as my hand moved faster over my throbbing length. Liquid heat spilled down my spine, and my balls drew up tight. My breath came faster as my head tipped back against the chair. I thought about Theo, body tense on his bed while his untouched cock leaked against his stomach.
I came with a sound I didn’t try to suppress, making sure he heard every second of it—my ragged breaths and the deep groan that followed. My whole body locked tight as cum spilled over my fist. I stroked my cock through it and drew out the waves of pleasure crashing through me. His desperate little whine only made it all the more enjoyable.
The silence that followed was thick. I listened to his unsteady breathing as I reached for the tissues, taking my time to clean up.
“Theo,” I said finally.
“Yeah?” he whispered, his voice beautifully wrecked.
“Go to my house, get naked, and wait on your knees in my room for me. I’ll be home soon. You better get there first, little wolf.”
I hung up the phone before he could answer. I didn’t have the patience for any more back-and-forth. All I wanted was him.
CHAPTER 45
Theo
BABY KENNEDY: Date night!
Who are you dating now?
BABY KENNEDY: Not me, you dumbass.
Ah, I thought you were informing us you were on a date.
BABY KENNEDY: Ew. No.
WYATT: Operation Get Jude A Date is my next big conquest.
BABY KENNEDY: Absolutely fucking not.
BABY KENNEDY: So what are you wearing?
Jeans & a t-shirt probably.
WYATT: THEO.
BABY KENNEDY: Theodore Daniel.
No to jeans & a t-shirt?
WYATT: Absolutely not.
But it’s comfy.
BABY KENNEDY: We’re coming over.
After the world’s worst game of dress-up—which was never happening again—I headed across town for my date. I used the back alley instead of the front door and found Rhodes standing outside his garage. The sight of him nearly stopped me in my tracks. My pulse stumbled, and so did every thought in my head.
Rhodes in a dress shirt would forever be a cocktease. I was sure of that. The deep blue fabric made his sun-kissed skin look warmer, the sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows. It drew my attention straight to his forearms. They were all lean muscles, dark ink, and veins that stood out just enough to make my imagination entirely unhelpful in getting control of my thickening dick.
