AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m the adult.
I am the fucking adult.
I will behave like one.
ChapterEight
Quinn
Ifed him that pie like I want to feed him my dick. I watched the way those lips engulfed my fork and my cock got all sorts of ideas. Not that Grey would ever let me. He put me on the other side of that booth like a kid in a time-out.
I’m not a fucking kid. But I can behave.
I got lucky holding his hand earlier, pressing my lips to his knuckles.
Feeding him.
I want to smear him in pie filling, stuff it into his hole, and lick it right out.
I bet he’d let me too.
Greyson Hart is into some stuff. I know it…heard all about it.
Fucking Kevin.
I hate that cunt, but honestly, the shit that spilled from his lips gave me all sorts of ideas. Things I’ve stayed awake at night and touched myself to.
“Gonna go sit outside for a bit,” Grey says, and I grab my sketch pad and my pencil and follow him outside.
I don’t want to crowd him, but I do anyways—can’t help myself, it seems. Not when I’ve had a small taste.
I pull out a camping chair and unfold it, sitting down next to Grey as he sips his beer. He’s leaned back, his thick thighs spread in front of him, and I force my gaze down to the paper in front of me. I’m going to draw those legs. I’ve drawn his hands, like I told him. But he doesn’t know the other body parts of his I’ve sketched. If anyone were to find them, they’d think I’d gone insane.
I have. Partly. Grey makes me crazy.
I eye him, trying to be discreet, but it’s hard to not put my pencil down and just gape. He is so damn gorgeous.
I wet my lips, thinking back to high school, to the casual hookups I’ve had throughout the years. Younger men, older men. I’ve fucked a lot of people for being only nineteen, but I swear to god, nothing would even come close to having Grey.
He would exceed all my expectations. There would be no other if I ever got to have him.
After drawing for a bit, I lay my sketchbook in my lap and lean my head back, soaking in the sun, feeling the humid air close in around me. Grey can look if he wants. And I know he wants. I can feel him watching me once my eyes slip shut.
It’s like I’m incapable of not feeling him.
His eyes on me are like a brand, and he marks me with each lingering gaze.
I hear him stand up and his feet shuffle closer to me, so close I can smell him. I feel his finger brush against my lap, turning my sketchbook so he can see. So fucking nosy.
But I let him look. I want him to see what I see.
He lets out a huff but doesn’t move, so I peek an eye open, catching him in the act.
“See something you like?” I ask, and draw my lips up in a smirk.
Grey falters behind me, his beer clutched in his hand.
“Just snooping, I guess.”
