Chapter 2 DIEGO #3
I could hear the smile in his voice, the fucker. “What are you doing?”
“Hooking up with you, obviously, you fucking idiot.” But I was laughing as I said it, clinging to his neck like the sad, needy, desperate little bitch boy I’d been trying not to be since the last time he broke my heart.
“I wish. But we don’t have to—”
“Shut the fuck up and meet me out front in ten.”
As the song wound down and we pulled apart, he adjusted his dick clandestinely, clearly trying not to grin.
I patted his face, trying to play it cool, as if he hadn’t felt my prick trying to jump out of my pants and into his for that entire dance.
Then I walked away like I had some business to handle before I could sneak out with him.
Instead, I went around the back, through the kitchen, where they were still cleaning up from serving dinner, and out the service entrance.
I lit a cigarette and sucked on it desperately, heading for the parking lot the long way.
When I rounded the corner to the front of the building, Taran was already there, his hands in his pockets, that stupid fucking dimpled smile still in place.
“Jesus Christ, thirsty boy.” I managed, though I couldn’t help it if I looked and sounded goddamn delighted.
“You’re here too,” he pointed out, pulling off his jacket and folding it over his arm. His tie was gone, who knew where.
“I fucking hate you.” I laughed. “Come on. It’ll be just like old times.”
He laughed too, and we speed walked to my borrowed car, hopped in, and buckled up in record time.
I peeled out of the lot and headed toward the twisty back roads without even thinking about it.
He shifted in his seat, adjusting his dick, and I licked my lips and tried not to watch.
I kinda wondered if I’d exaggerated the size of it in my head, but that was a mouthwatering bulge he was sporting.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what was I doing? Taran Kovacs had fucked me up so bad, it’d taken a year to move on—and I still had serious scars. Even if he was older and wiser (and hotter) now, that didn’t mean this time would be different.
That said, I clearly wasn’t going to call this off; my dick was fully in control, and if I didn’t get to fill this man’s belly button with cum in the next fifteen minutes, I might die.
Okay, okay, so I needed to control the situation, at least. Needed to make sure this was on my terms. I glanced at him again, caught him rubbing his bulge with the side of his thumb, like he was trying to nudge it to one side.
“Get it out,” I said.
“What?” He chuckled. “My dick?”
“Come on. I wanna see if it’s as nice as I remember. And I don’t wanna wait.”
He yanked on his belt to open it, then popped the button.
I tried to focus on the road, which was starting to curl into the mountain woods.
But out of the corner of my eye, I could see his hands working the zipper, his whole body shifting as he lifted his ass to pull his pants and shorts down around his thick thighs.
I couldn’t not look when he freed his prick finally, a thick and juicy eight inches straight out of my OnlyFans dreams.
Not the biggest I’d ever had, sure. But it was smooth and uncut and fat as fuck. God, I’d regretted never asking him to fuck me more than anything else, in that first year after he left. I’d pretended the first guy to get in there was him, even though his dick was nothing like Taran’s.
Don’t get me wrong. All dicks are good dicks, organic or otherwise. But there’s just something sentimental about the first one you ever get to enjoy that isn’t your own, you know?
“Well?” he asked.
I shot him a glare.
“Did you exaggerate it?” he prodded, his dimple deepening.
“I did not,” I allowed, trying to roll my eyes. “Go ahead. Show me something impressive.”
“Thought I just did.”
“Fuck you.” I couldn’t help laughing, though. “Goddammit, stop being funny. I’m trying to set the mood here.”
“Both is good.”
I was about to say fuck you again, but we were coming up on a side road. It was where hunters parked in the winter, and there were deer stands all over the nearby woods. No one was ever here in summer, though.
I knew it very, very well from the old days. And he did too. I said, “Oh shit, look at this.”
“Wow. Didn’t even realize we were nearby.”
I turned down the dirt lane, then backed up into the trees so anyone on the main drag wouldn’t see the car and get curious.
He tucked his glasses in the front pocket of his jacket before setting it on the dashboard. Then he opened his door and kicked off his shoes, then finished getting rid of his pants and shorts, all while grinning like a goddamn idiot.
“Don’t be proud of yourself yet,” I said, even though I was smiling pretty hard too. I stumbled out onto the dirt road and plopped down in the back seat, unlacing my boots. Why the fuck had I worn boots anyhow? Dumbass.
He closed the other back door and knelt on the seat behind me, tugging on the collar of my jacket. He slid it over my shoulders, then tried to pull it down, but couldn’t because I was trying to fix my boots.
“Hang on,” I laughed.
“You already got me started, so you gotta catch up,” he informed me, then pressed his hot lips against my neck right below my earlobe.
I shivered as he kissed me, his tongue sliding against my skin then down, down beneath my collar. He tugged at it, shifting my shirt over to one side, like he couldn’t wait to get me out of it.
Okay. Okay, I did not expect him to be this confident, which was clearly a miscalculation based on our previous fumbling exploration. Right, just needed to recalculate before I—
“You need help with those boots?” he asked into my ear, stubble scraping my neck. “Or anything else?”
I kicked the boots off and leaned forward so he could pull off my jacket. He threw it into the front seat, and I leaned back into him, tugging at my belt frantically.
He put both arms around my waist and pulled me into the middle of the seat, between his bare thighs.
He murmured, “C’mere,” into my ear in such a deep, rough voice that it vibrated from his chest into my back.
He grabbed my shirt and yanked, untucking it in one quick motion, and then started working the buttons.
“Fuck, Kovacs,” I huffed, fighting the urge to just ragdoll and let him have his way with me. “You in a hurry?”
“Yes.” He slipped his hand under my shirt, flattened it against my belly, and felt his way upward slowly but surely. When he palmed my tit, he made a sound like an animal growl into my ear. My skin lit up with the shiver it gave me.
“You been working out,” he mumbled, then nipped at my ear.
I arched into his touch, biting my lip to keep from moaning like the helpless little slut I’d already devolved into.
“I always loved your body. Didn’t think it could get better,” he whispered.
“Ha!” I tried to laugh it off but couldn’t. No breath in me. Fuck, finally, I got my pants undone. “My body?”
He brushed my nip with his fingertips and pushed the other hand into the waist of my shorts, thumb caressing my happy trail on the way down.
Felt like his hands were everywhere, and I never wanted it to stop.
Nothing furtive, nothing rushed for all he was greedy to touch me; once he got his hands on my skin, he took his time feeling me up, holding me close.
He lifted my waistband up and out, then palmed my cock, pressing it into my belly and rubbing down, then up. “Your body,” he repeated, almost like a little sigh. “Always made me feel helpless.”
I laughed again, but it was totally silent, seeing as I could barely breathe.
I squirmed as he wrapped his hand around my prick and squeezed gently.
When I got a little air in me, I managed, “Fuck, man. I should—I should close the door.” Because if someone did get curious, they were not gonna enjoy the sight of my dick getting felt up first thing, that was for damn sure.
“If I let you go, will you take it off?” He tugged at the waistband of my shorts and tightened the other arm around my middle, pulling me closer still. His right leg was fully off the seat, and one of my asscheeks too, but now I could feel his hard, hot cock against my back.
“What if I say no?” What can I say? Brats gonna brat.
“Then I’m not letting you go,” he murmured, arm going even tighter.
Jesus, he used to be able to just pick me up and put me where he wanted to, but I hadn’t thought he still could.
I had been working out for years now. He might not have been in college football shape anymore, but he was on the edge of lumberjack territory for sure.
His fucking arms were so strong, god, I could just live here now.
I wriggled until I could kick my pants off, then my shorts, and he loosened his arm around me. I crawled onto my knees and tugged the door shut, leaving my boots outside and my pants hanging halfway out. Meanwhile, he was doing something or other behind me, and there was zero room to maneuver.
“Forgot what a pain in the ass car sex is,” he chuckled.
“You never complained.” I looked over my shoulder and grinned.
“I never had a whole place of my own to hook up in, either. What are you doing?”
“Closing the door.”
“It’s closed. C’mere.” He put an arm around me again, pulling me back into him.
With some effort, a lot of swearing, and even more laughing, we got situated with him in the middle, his legs wide apart, and me straddling his hips, my ass between his thighs.
His knees pressed into the backs of the seats, and he slouched to keep me from knocking my head off the ceiling.
“I think we both grew,” he said with a snort.