Chapter 18
Jett
Wes: Any hard limits?
I snort a mouthful of water across the screen, then cough.
Santos eyes me, about to take a bite of his sandwich. “You okay there, man?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I croak, wiping the screen with my sleeve. I type back, tilting the screen away from Hua Jing, who’s sitting next to me, scarfing down ramen.
Me: Hard limits?
His reply is instant.
Wes: Yeah. Date-wise. Any allergies or
places you don’t do?
I sigh a breath of relief. I’m pretty vanilla when it comes to sex, although I have to admit I’m a lot more dominant with Wes than I ever was with Anthony.
“What are you smilin’ at?” Santos grins, waggling his eyebrows. “Got a hot date tonight?”
“Uhm, yeah. Kinda.”
“Really? Hey man, that’s awesome.” Santos holds up his hand, and I high-five him. “Who’s the lucky gal?”
I scratch my neck. I still don’t know Santos and Hua Jing that well, but they don’t strike me as the judgmental types. Here goes nothing, I guess.
“It’s a guy, actually. It’s pretty new.”
“Oh, cool.” Santos chews on his sandwich. “My cousin Gabriel is gay. Got married in Vegas last summer. He and his hubby are trying to adopt. So who’s the guy? Anyone we know?”
Hua Jing groans, putting down her chopsticks. “For fuck’s sake! Did it occur to you that maybe Jett wants to keep just a shred of his new relationship to himself?”
Santos frowns at me. “Do you? Am I oversteppin’?”
I chuckle. “You kinda are, but it’s okay.” I suck in a deep breath. Wes is my boyfriend now. While I have no desire to put it on a billboard, I don’t want to hide it either. “You sort of know him.”
Hua Jing perks up at that. “Oh Em Gee, don’t tell me. Is it a smexy boss/employee situation?” She rests her chin on her hands and bats her lashes.
“What?” I blurt. “No, that’d be…” I shake my head, trying to erase that image from my mind.
Santos looks between us. “Okay, I’m confused. What’s going on here?”
“Awww c’mon, dude. You gotta admit Coach Anyango is easy on the eyes.” Hua Jing fans herself. “I bet he’s got a Daddy Dom hidden somewhere inside.”
Now Santos is the one spewing food. “Okay, that’s it.” He throws his half-finished sandwich onto his plate. “I’m done.”
Hua Jing scoffs. “Jeez, you’re such a baby.”
My phone pings. Shit, I completely left Wes hanging.
Wes: Hellooo? You dead?
I smile as I type.
Me: Sorry. Having lunch with some
colleagues.
Me: Is it okay if I tell people about you?
Wes: People?
Me: Colleagues. Close colleagues.
Wes: Oh. Yeah, that’s fine.
Me: You sure?
Wes: Absolutely. Just don’t tell them
about my cape and secret weapon of
mass destruction.
A laugh shoots from my lips. Santos and Hua Jing stare at me, but I just shrug. I have a boyfriend, and he’s ridiculous but pretty fucking amazing too. Getting a boyfriend was definitely not in the cards when I moved here, but when Wes asked me, there was no doubt in my heart.
Me: Dork.
He sends me a kissy emoji, then an eggplant. Fuck, he’s so juvenile.
Me: I don’t like fancy places, and I
prefer being outside. I’m not picky, but I
love spicy food. No allergies.
My finger hovers over the phone. I’m actually going on a date with Wes—my boyfriend.
Me: I really liked that day at the market.
Wes: Me too. One of my favorites.
I can hear the smile in his words. It was one of my favorite days in a long time, too.
Wes: I’ve got you, boo. Can’t wait.
I stare at my phone for a minute, and Hua Jing sighs dreamily. “OMG, I’m so fucking jelly. Look at his face, dude.”
Santos grins as he leans back in his chair. “So, who’s the guy?”
My cheeks heat, and my heart races in my chest. Here goes nothing, I guess.
“You know that guy, Wes Ellison? The physical therapist?”
Santos nods, while Hua Jing bounces in her seat, tapping her fingers against the table. “You’re dating Mr. Magic Hands?” she hisses. “Are you for fucking real?”
Santos gapes at her. “Mr. Magic Hands? Who are you?”
“Aww, c’mon, you gotta admit Wes is fiiine.”
And mine. The possessiveness I felt that night at the bar when Wes was dancing with that girl resurfaces. Hua Jing just continues, twirling a finger at me. “I see it now. The two of you. Opposites attract and all that grumpy/sunshine shit. Uh-huh, right on.”
I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about, until Santos groans, “This isn’t one of your books, HJ.”
She rolls her eyes. “I know.” She mumbles into her hand, “Not that Wes Ellison couldn’t be on one of the covers.” Her gaze snaps to mine. “Not that you couldn’t, too, Jett.”
“Oh God, new topic, please.” I rub my hands along my face, and they both laugh. I shoot Wes a text.
Me: My colleagues are grilling me.
Wes: Aww, poor baby. I’ll make you feel
better later.
Me: One of them thinks we’re romance
book material.
Wes: Yes! My kinda people!
Me: See you later.
I finish the rest of my lunch with a stupid grin on my face and a flutter in my chest.
Wes couldn’t have chosen a better spot for a first date.
The place looks a little bohemian-meets-eco-friendly chic.
The restaurant is in College Hill, an urban area in South Eugene, pretty close to our apartment building.
We walked here, holding hands the entire time, just enjoying the fall evening, talking about our day.
It’s been unseasonably warm, so we’re just wearing light jackets.
The building itself is pretty basic, with a dark wooden front, charcoal slate roof, and large windows.
Above the glass double doors hangs a large sign made of rusty iron that reads ‘Welcome to the Hillside Kitchen.’ The outdoor area is beautiful, with three graffiti-painted food carts offering a wide range of food, from Japanese to traditional Mexican to modern Indian fusion.
I squeeze Wes’ hand, excitement twirling in my stomach. “This is amazing.”
“Yeah? I know it’s a little busy, but I thought if we sit outside—”
“It’s perfect.” I take in the beach-like area with sandy flooring, casual lounge furniture, and brightly colored outdoor umbrellas. There’s an outdoor bar and soft Latino vibes spill from the speakers. There’s even a small dog bar with bowls of water.
I lean in and press a soft kiss against Wes’ cheek. “Thank you,” I murmur. His fresh scent envelops me. He nearly stole all the air out of my lungs earlier when he met me down in the lobby, his hair still damp from his shower, his light gray chinos clinging to his thighs like a second skin.
His eyes pool with fondness, the vibrant blue matching his shirt. “You’re welcome. And the food’s amazing here. Dennis and I used to come here a lot.”
“It looks great.”
“I got us a table outside.” He nudges my shoulder.
“I’ll just let them know we’re here.” Wes jogs inside, and I can’t stop smiling as I ogle his tight ass.
Shit, I can’t believe I get to be inside him later.
My dick stirs, and I inhale deeply, focusing on my surroundings instead, my arousal lingering like a sweet hum underneath my skin.
The outdoor area is busy but spacious, with plenty of room between the tables, making it cozy and intimate.
Warmth fills my chest. He really wanted this to be special.
Wes returns with a server, who leads us to a secluded spot in the back, with tall palms and colorful lanterns hanging from an overhang. Instead of chairs, there’s a small lounge sofa perfect for two and a table made from different types of wood, with small tea candles lit. It’s all very romantic.
“I’m Jasmin,” the server says. “Welcome to the Hillside Kitchen.” She hands us both menus, then gestures toward the food carts.
“Aside from what you see here, we also have a menu with different courses.” She leans in, smiling knowingly.
“I prefer the carts, though. They’re really good.
” Wes nods, then asks Jasmin about drinks. “Do you still have taps?”
“Yes, of course. We have over twenty different taps, mostly from local breweries, plus wine, cider, and kombucha. Whatever you want.”
Wes squeezes my thigh. “What do you want, babe?”
Babe. He keeps his hand on my thigh, and I love the feel of his solid presence. I relax into the soft cushions, then place my hand on top of his, weaving our fingers together. “I’ll try the kombucha,” I say.
“Great. We have lemon-ginger, pumpkin-spice, or mango.”
“The mango, please.”
“Sure.” Jasmin types on a tablet, then turns to Wes.
“I’ll have the Hop Valley IPA.”
“Good choice.” She beams. “If you want to visit our food carts, then just go ahead. I’ll be back with your drinks.”
“You good with the carts?” Wes asks.
“Yeah, I’ve got my eye on the Mexican.”
Jasmin leaves, and we order our food. We both start with the Mexican, getting soft tacos with different fillings, salsas, and guacamole.
“This is so good,” I moan around a huge bite of pork taco with sweet peach relish. “Oh, my God.” I lick my fingers, and Wes’ hot gaze follows my movements.
“Fuuuck,” he hums low in his throat. “Keep moaning like that, and there won’t be a later.”
I swallow the bite, the spices exploding on my tongue. “But it’s so good.”
He laughs. “I can see that. And my dick hears it loud and clear, too.”
I blink, my eyes dropping to his crotch and the evident outline of his length. “Oops. Sorry.”
He shakes his head, chuckling. “No, you’re not. Shit, I never thought I’d be jealous of a taco.”
My stomach does this weird swoopy thing. Jealous. I know he’s just kidding, but it still makes me feel wanted, desired.
I hold out the taco in front of him. “You wanna try? You wanna taste your competition?”
He doesn’t say anything, just leans in. My eyes are glued to his lips. He opens his mouth and bites down on the taco, then moans, rolling his eyes. “God, your meat is amazing, Jett.”
“Jesus. I didn’t know food porn was a thing, but…” I feel like I’m burning up, despite a slight chill in the evening air.
His face grows serious, his eyes darkening slightly. Fuck, he’s so gorgeous. That blue shirt and the way the color clashes with his eyes. His full lips and that light dusting of scruff. I feel like grabbing his floppy hair, pulling him into a claiming kiss.
Wes licks his lips. “I can’t wait for later.
” He leans in, his breath hot against my cheek, sweet from the beer.
“I want you to fuck me, Jett. I need you inside me.” His hand snakes up my thigh, his fingers teasing my skin through my jeans.
“I’ve been thinking about nothing else today.
Your big, beautiful cock moving inside me, tearing me wide open.
” His voice is breathy, just as teasing as his fingers.
I’m rock fucking hard. I squirm in my seat, then grab his wrist, stilling his hand.
“You’re a fucking menace,” I hiss. “Such a goddamn brat.”
“You love it,” he retorts, smirking.
“Didn’t say I don’t.”
He sucks in a breath, his gaze dipping to my plate. “Eat up.”
I nod at his. “You done?”
“Uh-huh. Saving some appetite for later.” He looks around, but there’s no one close by, and the music is thumping from the speakers, the deep bass mingling with my rapidly beating heart. “I wanna suck a load out of you before you dump another in my ass.”
“Shit. How do you… when did you…” Fuck, I can’t even form a sentence to save my life. Wes’ crude talk, his filthy mouth, evokes images of tangled limbs and sweat-covered skin. Messy sheets and his body shaking underneath me from a violent orgasm.
“I dated a girl once. She, uhm… she liked to spice things up a little.” He leans in, his lips ghosting my chin. “You know, ass play.”
“It’ll be different than that. It’ll be—”
“Bigger? Better?” He kisses me, slow and seductive.
I close my eyes, opening for him, and everything else around us disappears.
There’s just him and me, and how fucking amazing his tongue feels in my mouth.
I whimper when he pulls away, his eyes swimming with want.
“I’m counting on it. I want it to be different.
” His gaze flickers, a hint of vulnerability in the blue.
“I want to always remember how it felt when my boyfriend fucked me for the first time.”
Holy shit. We need to get out of here before I blow in my pants or drag Wes into the men’s room and fuck him senseless in a stall.
Wes smirks. “You want me to get the check?”
“Yes,” I croak.
He presses a quick kiss against my lips. “I’ll be right back.” He adjusts himself when he stands. At least I’m not the only one close to combusting. “Finish your food, babe,” he grins. “You’re gonna need all the energy.”
Then he’s off, that casually spoken babe hanging in the air.
I like it. It’s… sweet and humble, like Wes.
Anthony always called me darling. I never liked it.
It always sounded forced or formal. There’s nothing forced or fake about Wes.
He’s all real. He’s been real with me from the beginning.
Patient too. I’m grateful for that. I didn’t realize I needed someone like him to breathe life back into me, to make me…
excited about every new day. Because I am.
I wake up with energy and purpose, excited to read that first text from him or see him at work.
I’m not even freaking out about what comes next.
I want to have sex with Wes. I’m going to take my time with him, turn him inside out, until he begs for it.
I wonder if he’ll let me eat him out. I fucking love rimming, but it might be too much, too soon.
And there’s time to explore and discover what turns him on. To get lost in each other.
Wes returns, smiling widely. “All done. Ready to go?”
“Ready.”
So fucking ready.