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I snorted. “I absolutely did, yes. You better believe it. It deserves to be celebrated. Well, bragged about, anyway.”
Keats kind of laughed. “Right.”
“I would only tell Cory,” I amended. “No one else. We share our sex stories. Believe me, I know more about Cory’s sex life than I ever really needed to know.”
“Bitch, you beg me for details,” Cory said flatly.
Keats laughed for real then. “Well, I’m glad there was bragging. Better than embarrassing stories, I guess.”
“So much bragging,” I said. “Anyway, I just wanted to call you to say thank you for the flowers. They are incredibly beautiful.”
He hummed. “So are you. And so was last night.”
My dick was now listening. I groaned. “Did you want to come over later? I have to go to Cory’s for a few hours, but I’ll be home by five.”
“I would like that very much,” he murmured; the tone of his voice rumbled from my ear straight to my balls. “I’ll bring dinner.”
“Okay,” I whispered, smiling like an idiot.
The line went dead in my ear, and I put my phone to my heart, trying to get my breathing under control.
Cory nodded slowly. “Yeah, okay. I definitely need to meet him. Sooner the better by the look of it.”
I madeit home by half four. Just enough time to take a shower and watch the clock until there was a knock at my door.
Being busy at Cory’s had been fine, but the anticipation of seeing Keats again set my blood abuzz. Not even the prospect of sex or kissing, but just to see him. Yeah, okay, sex too. Because I’d had a semi since my phone call with him.
Yep, I was an absolute goner.
I opened my door, my heart in my throat, unable to stop the grin when I saw him. He held a takeout bag in one hand and something small and pink in his other hand. “Hi,” he said, his grin almost as wide as mine.
“Oh god, get in here,” I said, all but pulling him in by his shirt. “I’ve been on edge since you said you were coming over. My dick won’t quit.”
He laughed and put the bag of food on the kitchen counter. “We can’t have that,” he said, shoving me up against the countertop, his hand snaking around my jaw, and he crushed his mouth to mine.
It was a filthy kiss.
Intruding tongues, sucking and sliding, and pinning me against the counter with his hips. He made my body sing in ways no one else ever had. I’d never known passion like this. So hot, so consuming.
I could have died right there.
What a fucking way to go.
He broke the kiss, a need for air, apparently. He kept his forehead to mine, his breaths ragged. “I can feel how turned on you are right now,” he mumbled, rubbing his erection against mine. “I’m torn. Do I take you to bed right now? Or do I go to my knees for you first?”
Oh god.
My legs almost buckled and my dick throbbed. “Both?” I tried to say.
His smile was slow spreading, his lips still swollen from that kiss. He kissed me again but this time he undid the button on my jeans. “Both, it is.”
Then he sank to his knees, right there in my kitchen. He kept me pinned to the kitchen counter, undid the zip, and pulled my cock out. He looked up at me as he closed his lips around me and sucked.
“Oh fuck,” I panted. “Fuck, yes.”
He worked his tongue, sucking and stroking the shaft, then he hummed around me and I had to think about anything else to stop from coming so soon.
Anything else. Think of anything else.
