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We order and when the food is brought over, I devour it. When I’m done, I take long sips of my milkshake before nudging it toward Grey.
“Go on,” I say and then watch as his puffy, sexy lips wrap around the straw.
And then he moans.
It’s a low whine and the sound shoots straight to my cock. I press the heel of my hand down against it.
Holy hell. Holy fucking hell!
“God, this is so good,” he mutters, taking another long sip, and I just watch him, entranced.
Does he know what he does to me? How can he not know? I’m so totally obvious. I have been for years.
Maybe I should show him, show him how I feel. Just feed my cock between those lips and watch him swallow.
“You can have the rest,” I manage to say, clearing my throat, and he shakes his head.
“Shouldn’t.”
“You so should,” I choke out, and he flushes. “Those sounds you make while you’re sucking…”
His cheeks darken, and I force out a laugh. I’m toeing the line. I want to cross it entirely. Just take a big step over and settle down, build a house on the land, and die there.
I want to be buried in Grey. Literally.
“Just been a while,” he mutters.
Been a while for what? A milkshake? Or whatever else my filthy mind is conjuring up? Because I can help him with both.
I would be a willing participant. I’d make him drink milkshakes while I suck his dick.
The waitress brings the check, and I pull out my wallet, but Grey’s hand covers mine, stopping me.
Oh my hell.
He squeezes lightly and then pulls away. “I’ve got it.”
“I don’t mind splitting things…”
“I know, but I budgeted for this, for two people. For Josh and me, so let me pay. You save your money for other things.”
But I don’t want to save my money for other things, like I’m a kid. I want him to know that I can pay my way, that I’m his equal, not some child he needs to take care of.
“I want to split it,” I say stubbornly, and he eyes me, sighing heavily.
“Alright,” he replies, and then we set our credit cards down and the waitress swipes them up a few minutes later.
And then we’re on our way back to the trailer, thunder and lightning right overhead.
“No escaping it now.”
No, no there’s not.
“And it’s already humid enough, so that will be fun,” I say, and Grey grumbles something under his breath.
We make it back to the trailer just as the rain starts to pour from the sky and we jog inside, our clothes damp.
“Shit,” he chuckles. “Fucking Michigan.”
