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I’ll never forget how gorgeous RJ looked when he stared down at me. I could tell from the look on his face that he was still conflicted, but at the same time, his eyes were practically begging me to do him.
It sucks that I’m still achingly hard without any release in sight, but blue balls are a small price to pay for finally getting to do more than touch RJ.
I walk around the bed, picking up his discarded clothes. I fold his cut first, then his jeans to pile them on the dresser. His socks get stuffed into his shoes that I place on the floor just beside the dresser, making it as easy as possible for him to dress and flee when he wakes up, which I’m sure he’ll do either in the morning or the middle of the night.
His shirt is the last article of clothing I find where I threw it on the other side of the bed. It’s just a plain white tee, but it smells like him. I can’t resist lifting the fabric to my nose to inhale more of his woodsy, citrus scent.
He could smother me with his shirt, and I would die a happy man tonight.
I leave the paused television on for the glow, then crawl into bed with his tee. I cuddle it to me while getting my fill of looking at RJ. His handsome face is slack as he sleeps, long dark lashes on his cheeks that stand out against his blond hair and eyebrows. The golden hair on his face is barely visible. I wish I could reach out and run my fingers over his jaw, but that would probably wake him up.
Eventually, I close my eyes to relive what just happened over and over again.
I must have fallen asleep at some point, though, because the next time I open my eyes, RJ is still lying beside me, his pretty denim-blue gaze staring right back at me.
“Ah, hey. What time is it?” I mutter like an idiot.
“Early, I think.”
“Oh. Right.” I start to wipe my mouth in case I was drooling when I remember that I’m still clutching his tee. “I, ah, found your shirt.”
His biceps and broad chest are too sexy to be covered. So instead of offering the shirt back to him, I slip it on over my head.
RJ doesn’t complain or demand it back. He just rolls to his back, glances around the room, then grabs his temple. “Why are we sideways in bed? And fuck, my head hurts.”
Ah, he’s going straight to the “I was drunk” excuse, even though he said he wouldn’t.
“You drank more than you claimed last night, didn’t you, birthday boy?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Mmm,” he says, making a noncommittal sound. “Is it Sunday?”
“No, it’s Saturday.”
RJ scrubs his palms over his face. “Shit. The garage is open half a day, and I think I gave Jordan the day off. Why the fuck did I do that the day after my birthday?”
“You’re the boss, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then stay closed all weekend. For your birthday.”
He doesn’t respond for a long moment before rolling his head to his side to face me. “Hell yes. Done. I’ll ask Jordan to go put up a sign, and then I’m gonna need about a hundred more hours of sleep.”
“So, I guess you don’t remember much from last night before you fell asleep?”
RJ stares up at the ceiling as he takes a deep breath. One of his hands slides up and down his bare stomach before he tucks his thumb under the waistband of his boxer briefs. Of course I can’t help but look a little lower to the noticeable bulge. Did he wake up with morning wood? God, I would love to see it, get my mouth on it again.
But I have a feeling RJ’s about to come down with a bad case of alcohol-induced amnesia.
“Ah, I remember,” he says, followed by a yawn. “I remember that you give really good head.”
“What was that?” I ask, thinking I must have misheard his words slurred by the yawn. He could’ve saidyou give really good breadoryou give really good bed. But neither of those makes much sense in this situation.
His head lolls to the side to look right at me without any shame. “You sucked me off like one of those high-powered Dysons, didn’t you?”
A chuckle escapes my mouth, and I have to clear my throat before I can reply to his comments about my first blowjob. “Ah, yeah, I did. So, you…enjoyed it?”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” He’s staring at the ceiling again, confusing the hell out of me.
