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“Muffins?” he rasps, and I can’t help a snort.
Muffin-fixated, this boy.
“The only muffins I have are in my bra.”
He grins, his gaze dipping to my girls, and I roll my eyes.
Boys and boobs.
“The soup’s sweet potato with bacon. I think you’ll like it.” And I think my chatter is soothing him. So I keep it up as we enter the elevator, and I punch my floor number. “Jesse and Amber are out of town, visiting an old friend of his, so the bathroom is all yours. I’ll have the soup warmed by the time you’re done. That sound okay?”
He squeezes my shoulders and drops a kiss on top of my head.
Somehow it feels strangely intimate, for such a chaste kiss, much more than his checking out my rack.
We stumble together to my door. I unlock it, we enter, and I lead him toward the bathroom. His feet drag on the floor.
He needs out of these wet clothes ASAP. I just don’t realize I’m the one who’s going to help him take them off until he’s leaning against the bathroom wall, swaying, his teeth chattering.
You’ve seen him naked before, I tell myself. Totally, beautifully naked, and aroused, and you’ve touched his snake. Made him come.
But again, like that chaste kiss in the elevator, this feels more personal. It feels more important, more meaningful.
Feels deeper, somehow.
And as I throw the blanket off him and unzip his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders, I can’t help wanting him again.
More.
More and more and more.
He pulls off his sweater and T-shirt, grunting as he does, and I see dark red splotches on his chest. New bruises.
He stares down at me as I get on my knees to take off his boots and socks, and his eyes are so dark they look black. I unzip his pants and drag them down his muscular legs. The sodden fabric clings to his flesh, and by the time I manage to take them off, I’m panting with exertion.
He makes a funny sound in the back of his throat, and I look up only to see he’s going commando. He’s fully naked now and jeez, his cock’s impressive even when not erect. That’s a well-hung boy, and I shouldn’t be staring at his dick right now, right?
Especially when it twitches, starting to harden and lift, so close I could have kissed it. Or taken it in my mouth.
He groans. I look up at his face, and something hot passes behind his eyes.
Then, before I find the words to ask, he steps into the shower stall and turns on the water.
Chapter Twelve
Ocean
Fuck. I’m so damn cold and shaky—and hard. So damn hard.
The image of her kneeling in front of me, her sweet mouth inches from my dick is branded in my brain. I wanna feel her lips wrapped around my cock, feel her tongue playing on the
underside, her teeth scraping over my taut skin. I wanna come down her throat, or all over her pretty tits.
The water is scalding my flesh. I doubt it’s that hot, though. It’s just that my skin is like ice. I can barely feel my feet and hands, though my right wrist is swollen and throbbing.
Memories assault me. Cold. Water. The pond. Leaving the cemetery. Leaving the trailer park. Mom and—
Shit. Everything that happened today slams back into me, and I brace both hands on the tiled wall, drowning in it all.
