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“Hey, hey …” he says in a warning voice. “Even looking at me like that isn’t going to get me to stay in bed. You’re a sneaky guy, Orson, but I’m onto you.”
I try to play it off as nothing, but I’m not even sure how I was looking at him. I roll onto my back as he gets up and starts moving around the room, gathering clothes for today. His sleep shorts have slid down a little, revealing a strip of bare, light skin just above his butt. This urge takes over me to get up, walk over there, and slide his shorts down until that bubble of an ass pops out. I imagine sinking my teeth into the soft cheek, and my cock plumps at the sexy image.
We’ve been taking the sex side of things slow, getting comfortable with each other, and of course, the morning I’m ready to instigate and jump his fucking bones, he has to hurry off to work.
Typical.
I ignore the need and get up to take a leak before stripping out of the borrowed sweats that I’m beginning to think of as my pair. There’s enough time for me to head home, shower, and change out of yesterday’s clothes before opening, and I pause by the bathroom on my way out.
Ford’s still in the shower, but I lightly knock on the door before nudging it open a crack.
“I’m heading out.”
“Kiss goodbye?”
That’s what I was hoping for. I push my way inside the steam-filled room and find Ford grinning at me from the shower. He leans out to meet me, dripping on my face and neck, wet hand holding my jaw as he makes the kiss deeper than the one we shared in bed.
Then he pulls back and winks. “Gotta make sure you spend the day thinking about me.”
I’m almost breathless as I pull back. “Yep. That’ll do it.”
* * *
“What are you doing?”Griff asks, placing our lunch on the counter and rounding it to get a better look at the computer screen.
“Just searching.”
“You getting a new car or something?”
Or something is accurate. Ford’s kiss did the trick, and he’s been on my mind all day. His garage last night felt empty. It was obviously built to hold a huge number of cars, so the space around his four babies was almost depressing. I loved hearing him talk about them though, especially Darleen, because he builds a real attachment to them.
Which makes it even sadder that he doesn’t have a T-Bird.
Ford loves the sentimental shit, and what’s more sentimental than the car he was named after?
“I’m just looking,” I say.
“Half of those don’t even look like they’d run.”
“That’s the point.” I have this grand idea that we could do it up together. I’m borderline useless on my own, but with Ford directing me, I can fumble my way along. I think he’d like that, and every day I spend with him makes that need to see him happy burn brighter.
Griff settles on the chair beside mine and grabs his sandwich. “Still seeing Ford, then?”
“Yes.”
“Are you dating?”
Are we?The word feels almost juvenile. “I don’t know what we are.” I give him more. “But I like it.”
“That’s awesome, man. Really.”
“Don’t ask me how the sex is,” I warn.
Griff’s jaw drops. “How did you know I—”
“Because it’s always the next question out of your mouth.” I laugh. “Oh, you’re in a relationship? Fill me in on the sex.”
He huffs. “I’m not that bad.”
