7. Max #3
“Whose fault is that? Tell me your secrets.”
I was too close now.
His skin was golden. I could see a faint scar along the edge of his jaw, another, thicker scar just above his collarbone, and a tiny constellation of freckles on each of the upper ridges of his cheekbones.
He looked like some fallen, depraved god.
My skin was burning hot now. My world was suddenly turning on its axis, slowly but irreversibly, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was dizzy from the inside out.
I really had thought I was nice until I met Draven.
And he kept bringing something out in me that was unrecognizable. Animal.
A flash of anger ripped through me.
I moved down before I could think, finally pressing my hand to his neck. I felt the vibration of his deep groan on my palm.
The feeling of his skin on mine made my cock ache even more, and I was so hard now it had to be visible.
“Going to make me come, Max?—”
I watched his eyes, not breaking contact as I saw his pupils widen.
“So fucking good,” he uttered as he looked up at me from under his thick lashes. I felt like he had me pinned, even though this time, I had complete free will.
Draven leaned his head back onto the bed as he came, white streaks painting the skin of his stomach and hand. One shot went further, all the way to the top of his shirt, landing along his shoulder.
Time caught up to me in one instant, rushing back like the sting of a snapped rubber band. I pulled my hand away and stepped back.
My stomach wanted to gnaw itself through. I was frozen in place, a couple of steps away from the bed.
He stood up a moment later, and he seemed even taller than I’d remembered. He took off his cum-streaked shirt, his naked body on full display in the beat-up old house.
It was like seeing a marble statue get up and start walking through ruins.
“I’m leaving.”
“You’re hard,” he countered, meeting my eyes and then glancing down at my bulge. “Sure you don’t want my mouth?”
He reached for my hand, and I let him take it.
He drew my thumb into his mouth. Warm. Wet. The small piece of metal, sliding along my thumb as if it were my cock.
And that beautiful look in his eyes, damaged and somehow soulful even though he was impossible to trust.
I swore I could almost come just from that.
Similar words to the ones I’d told him on our video call thrummed through my mind again:
I want you. I fucking want you and I don’t want to.
But the war between my brain and my cock tipped quickly, and I couldn’t handle it another moment. I pulled my hand away.
And then I turned and left as fast as my feet could take me. I beelined out into the yard and back toward the front of the house, my feet sinking on the grass and then crunching on gravel. I spotted my old red pickup behind his truck.
When I got in, I felt like I was fleeing a crime scene.
Like I’d just crossed a line I could never come back from.
I drove home on total autopilot, more than ten over the speed limit the whole time, barely registering the road around me. The red-brown sides of my barn were in front of me only a few minutes later, and I threw the truck into park.
Coming down the driveway I’d dimly registered that nobody had been home at my parents’ house. Further on, out here by my barn, I had a view for what seemed like miles. The sun was starting to set over the land, slanted rays of light coming through the trees.
There was still a constant thudding in my chest like a jackhammer.
It was the first time I’d ever seen another man come.
And it definitely felt different than watching it in videos.
Having my hand on him as he came.
The quiet air in the front cab of my truck suddenly felt deafening. I reached for the handle on the bottom edge of my driver’s seat and leaned it back in a quick motion. My hands found their way to the button at the top of my jeans and I unzipped my pants, shoving them down to my knees.
My cock bobbed out, still hard and getting harder now that I wrapped my fist around the base.
But getting that pressure around my cock was a relief like nothing I’d ever felt.
My heart slammed under my chest as I leaned back in the driver’s seat, feeling heated and rushed, like I had to get this out of my system before I went back inside.
I needed to come.
Just jerk off, blow your load, and be done with it .
I was desperate. I felt like I’d been pent up for days, not just for the last twenty minutes. I tried to clear my thoughts of any specifics as I pumped my cock, but it was as if the image of him was burned into the back of my mind.
I felt myself pushing right up to the edge of the cliff before I could stop it, and unbidden, the thought of Draven’s eyes flashed through my mind.
Green, but somehow still like flames.
“ Fuck ,” I uttered as my balls tightened and I came, faster than I’d expected, spilling white along the back of my hand and the bottom of my shirt.
I barely caught my breath afterwards.
Why had I ever gone there at all?
But also… why had I ever left?
For a brief moment, the air was still in the cab of my pickup. The world fell silent other than my breath, and finally, my heart rate started to go down.
The thoughts floated through my mind as I went inside and showered off, scrubbing my body clean and putting on fresh clothes.
I pulled out my phone and texted him.
As usual, I was only able to say what I wanted only after the fact.
Max
Tired of you secretly following me around. Just do it openly, next time.
Draven
I’ll be at the beer fest tomorrow in town.
Fuck. Of course you already know I’ll be working there.
I like knowing where you are.
That should freak me out. Why doesn’t it?
Because you like me.
For fuck’s sake. Stop.
Can’t. Sorry.
It was so hot tonight, Draven. I couldn’t…
I know. Don’t worry. Next time you’ll have my mouth.
I want that. And I really wish I didn’t want you.
You already have me.
With each passing text message, it became completely obvious.
It wasn’t out of my system.
It hadn’t only happened because he’d triggered some sort of people-getting-caught kink I had inside me.
The more I thought about it, the less it felt like nothing .
Draven was no longer something I could ignore.