Page 18 of Karter


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Soaked.

As he began to speak, he forced his warm breath into my ear, “Because holding you made me hard as a rock, Karter.”

Clean up in aisle seven. Can someone bring me a fucking towel?

“You have no God damned idea what you do to me, do you?” he breathed.

I squeaked.

“When you walked your little walk from the bathroom a minute ago? I watched you. I admired you. And I tried to think of any and everything I could to keep it from happening. But guess what? Guess what you did to me?”

I swallowed heavily and opened my mouth. A puff of hot air passed my lips.

“You made my cock hard again,” he paused and quickly scanned the restaurant.

He leaned into me, pressing his cheek to mine and his lips to my ear, “So, Karter Wilson. I have no intent of fucking you over. In fact, I have every intention of making you mine. Mine. Do you understand me, Karter? I don’t want to know what it’s like to spend another day without you. And that isn’t like me at all, but I’m going to proceed with it because you make my otherwise mundane life mean something. Get used to me being around. And if you fuck me over,” he paused and leaned away from the table.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, “That in itself would kill me.”

Holy fuck. I want you to smash me against the wall and kiss me, Jak.

“I want you to smash me against the wall and kiss me,” I smiled.

He stood from his chair, stepped aside, and pushed it to the table.

I stared up at him and batted my eyes.

He reached into his jeans pocket and removed his wallet. He tossed a few bills on the table. I may or may not have stood up. When I came to my senses, Jak had me pinned against the front door of the restaurant.

And he was kissing me passionately.

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