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It actually helped, even if it didn’t expel the visions of Freddy looming in the shadows.
A horn beeped, and I jumped, spinning toward it—
Quinn, driving his beat-up Toyota. The car crawled along next to me as he beckoned me in.
Though relatively confident I could make it home safely, it was cold, and a quick drive was by far more preferable.
I slipped inside and buckled in. Despite offering me the ride home, Quinn didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking. Broody and silent the entire way, Quinn maintained his bad mood even once we’d made it inside and peeled off our outer layers.
I watched him mope into the kitchen and pour himself a drink. Deciding to leave him some alone time, I snuck silently down the hall, grabbed a towel from the linen cupboard, and jumped into the shower.
Water hit my back, warm and firm, like a much-needed massage. I picked up the soap and scrubbed myself clean. A knock at the bathroom door had me rubbing a clear circle on the fogged plastic door. Was Quinn bursting so hard he couldn’t wait? “Come in.”
He did. Through the plastic, Quinn was mostly an outline, blurred with color. But he didn’t stop at the toilet; he came right up to the door until I could see his features more than clearly.
Again, I wiped through the steam. “What do you want?”
“I want to be a bit more like you. Blunt and to the point.” The shower door opened, and Quinn, in his boxers and tank-top, stepped inside. “I liked what we did together last week.”
I moved back, offering him a shared part of the hot water. “I did too.”
Water sprayed over his chin and shoulders, clinging his tank-top to his chest and matting a few of the hairs that peeked over the top.
The lust of his gaze running slowly down the length of my body heated me up more than the hot water, and on instinct, I touched myself, blood rushing to my groin.
Water soaked Quinn’s sky-blue boxer-briefs, outlining his hardening length.
“Your point is certainly clear,” I said through a tight throat, watching rivulets of water drip from my arm and onto Quinn’s inner thigh.
He angled the showerhead so it hit the back wall, creating a makeshift waterfall. Carefully, he stepped in and pushed me toward it. It was like warm silk flowing down my back, while the rest of me was exposed to air that should have been cooler, but instead was heated by animalistic lust.
Quinn’s fingers lifted my chin until we were focused on each other. “I’m not sure my point is clear yet,” he said, angling his head. The tips of his wet hair tickled against my forehead as his hungry lips sucked on mine.
I slipped my arms around his shoulders, dipping under his tank-top then running a hand through the back of his hair, holding him there, forcing him to deepen the kiss.
His lips pulled back an inch but his forehead came to rest against mine. “I want to take you in my mouth.”
My cock twitched at that, the head lightly tapping Quinn’s hip at the edge of his wet cotton briefs and smooth skin. “Please,” I said.
His breath whistled over my cheek and he kissed me again, lips moving softer this time, taking his time, teasing. Sensual.
My skin prickled as his lips drew crooked, explorative lines over my chest, pinching at my nipples and pulling them into his mouth. He lapped at my right nipple, the one surrounded by a smattering of dark freckles. His fingertips danced over them as he lightly bit, sending a shock of current to my already hard cock, making it leak and bob against Quinn again.
I gasped as his hands traveled down my sides and rounded my backside, one finger stroking my entrance. “Take me into your mouth!”
He murmured a laugh as he bent to his knees, his mouth sustaining its contact with my skin. “I want to hear you cry my name when you come.”
His tented briefs brushed over my leg and the moan he let out skated over the tip of my cock. I tilted my hips toward him, nudging my head at his parted lips. His gaze flew up to mine as his wet, warm mouth enveloped me. I moaned, my head falling to my chest as my eyes shut with the intense pleasure of being firmly sucked deep into Quinn. I thrust lightly, the head of my cock squeezing down his throat and twisting gloriously.
I slammed my arms on either side of the wall as Quinn moved in time with my thrusts, as if he knew my song and could sing it to perfection. I wanted him to never stop.
Quinn’s finger harmonized with my song of pleasure, nudging at my entrance with every outstroke. Water trickled down my ass and thigh and over Quinn’s shoulder. My tempo increased. I wasn’t sure which one I wanted more, to plunge down that deep, tight throat or to impale myself on his finger.
