Chapter 11
Isaac
I stare at the silicone plugs for a long while as I debate my options.
Do I need the extra boost to my libido? Not in the least. I’ll be dragging Trevor back here later whether or not I have a toy up my ass edging me all night.
But the idea of wearing a plug, knowing it’s to get myself ready for that massive cock of his? Fuck. I’m hard just thinking about it.
In the end, I pick one of the mid-range sizes I know I can handle. It’s not remotely close to the width Trevor demonstrated for me, but I’m not sure I’d even be able to walk with a plug that size up my ass.
Baby steps.
I use the smallest plug first to tease myself open, able to imagine it’s Trevor instead since I can’t feel my fingers doing the work.
My cock aches, but I ignore it, knowing it’ll only take longer to come down if I indulge the bastard.
When the first plug is moving in and out easily, I grab the second.
Two of Trevor’s fingers, maybe. Coaxing me open.
His deep voice rumbling that he can’t wait to get inside me.
That he’s going to take his time because he wants me out of my mind when he finally sinks deep, that huge cock of his finding places to light up I didn’t even know could be reached.
I imagine him promising to wreck me. To break me apart and hold me together. To do it over and over again until I can’t recall my own name, only his.
And fuck. I have to tug my hand away from the plug, realizing I’ve been fucking myself with it, a poor imitation of the real deal.
Huffing out a breath, I let myself cool down before quickly and efficiently replacing the plug with the next size up.
Horny, aching, and starting to regret this whole tease myself with a butt plug plan, I clean up the lube, the extra toys, and myself.
Then I get dressed and read a book of poems by Walt Whitman until my erection dies down.
By the time I arrive at the bar, it’s nearly eleven. Trevor works until two in the morning, so hopefully he won’t mind the late hour. Judging by his smile when I walk through the door? He’s only happy to see me.
Holy hell, he looks good. Downright edible, in fact, in thigh-hugging jeans and a too-tight t-shirt that shows off his tattooed arms. Arms that held me effortlessly against his bedroom wall just last night.
The next few hours can’t pass fast enough.
Trevor holds out his hand. “ID?”
“Really?” I ask, fighting a smile as I tug my wallet free and fish out my license. “You don’t remember me from last time?”
He purses his lips as he examines my ID. “Isaac Newport. Hm. Not sure I do. Maybe you should jog my memory?”
“I’m the one who’s going to have my legs wrapped around your head later.”
Trevor’s eyes hold mine, a smirk growing on his face. “Is that so?”
I can’t even find it in me to rebuke Horny Isaac for commandeering my mouth. He goes on gleefully. “I sure hope so.”
Trevor hums, passing my ID back. “You can go in. I’d suggest not having more than one drink if you want me between your legs tonight.”
Christ, why does him saying it make me flush?
I clear my throat. “I can’t get tipsy even if I give you my consent now?”
Trevor tugs me closer to his stool. Not so close that we’re pressed together, but his hand on my hip certainly makes it feel that way.
“I want you to remember the first time my mouth makes you come. So yes, even with your consent, stay sober so we’ll both know you’re fully clear-headed when you beg me for round two. ”
“Jesus,” I mutter breathily. “Little cocky, aren’t you?”
“There’s not a single piece of me that’s little,” Trevor says, his thumb slipping under my waistband before he lets me go. “Come back to me soon, Red.”
Nodding, I stumble toward the bar on legs that feel like jelly, not even needing a single drink to feel intoxicated. As I wait for my soda, I watch Trevor and the other occupants of the bar. I’m not the only one with eyes on my boyfriend.
I get a thrill at the use of that title, even inside my own head. He’s mine. They can look. Hell, they can even touch. But they won’t take him away from me.
I try not to worry about my possessiveness over a guy I’ve known mere weeks.
I’ve always been competitive. Whether it’s a simple card game or being the best in my class, there’s an ever-present urge under my skin to come out on top.
It’s part of why I was reluctant to get into another relationship right now, casual or otherwise.
The last time I didn’t win. I lost him, and even though we weren’t all that serious, the blow dug deep.
But Trevor?
Trevor came along, unexpected, and he’s stoking every one of my instincts that’s crying out for me to win him over fully. To keep him.
It’s too early to know if that’s even feasible when it comes to him and me. But for now, that man is mine, by his own admission, and fuck if I’ll let him forget it.
A pretty blonde approaches Trevor as I sip my soda. They’re too androgynous for me to take a guess at their gender. But they certainly don’t have a problem flirting, touching Trevor’s arm and his shoulder.
My pulse hitches as I watch, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Trevor’s eyes find mine as he subtly rebukes the blonde’s advances for the third time. Oh, it’s on.
I carry my drink with me as I head their way.
There’s something akin to apology in Trevor’s gaze, as if it’s possibly his fault the blonde isn’t taking a hint.
I loop my arm around his shoulder the moment I’m close enough, swinging onto his lap.
Trevor catches me easily, warm and smelling of spices.
It reminds me of cooking in his kitchen.
Of what I imagine comfort with him would be.
I pitch my voice sweetly. “Hi, cuddle bug.”
Trevor chokes on a laugh. “Hi.”
“Hope you didn’t miss me. I was thirsty. But I’m back now.”
I take a sip of my soda as my gaze slides to the blonde. They’re already disappearing into the crowd, clearly not prepared to fight for the man currently beneath my ass.
I nearly pout. “That was easy.”
Trevor raises an eyebrow, his amusement tinged with lingering concern. “I wasn’t flirting back.”
“I know,” I assure him, sinking my fingers into the short hairs at the back of his head. “But I’m allowed to get jealous, aren’t I? Because no one touches you without my permission.”
Trevor holds my gaze for a long moment, seemingly trying to read me. “That’s right,” he says at last, tone entirely serious. It lightens as he adds, “You sure you don’t want to buy that collar?”
I huff a laugh, sinking my face against his neck for a moment where the smell of him is so strong I have to resist the urge to bite. “I don’t think I need it, do I? You’ll be good.”
Again, Trevor tries to pick me apart with his gaze. I preoccupy myself with attempting to determine the fabric content of his shirt. Cotton, perhaps? I stroke over his abs a few times just to be certain.
“Are you quite enjoying yourself?” Trevor asks, reaching over my shoulder to check the ID of someone coming in. I didn’t even notice them.
“Mhm. See? I told you this would be a good third date.”
His chest moves in laughter, but he doesn’t try displacing me from his lap. Frankly, I’m unsure whether or not that’s a good thing. The longer I’m here, the more reasons I find to touch. I trace my finger down the tattoos at the front of his neck.
“What are you drinking?” Trevor asks.
“Soda.”
“That so?”
I nod. “Which means you’ll know I’m clear-headed when I do this.”
I shift my ass against Trevor’s thigh, and the man inhales a sharp breath I can see more than hear. His hand tightens on my hip, the darkness of his gaze telling me he felt exactly what’s inside my ass.
His voice is like gravel. “Is that why you’re so brazen tonight, you little minx? You’ve worked yourself up already?”
“It’s all you,” I combat, shifting against him again because it feels damn good. “’Cause I’m really…fucking impatient to get you under me.”
“I’m under you right now,” he counters evenly. “And you’ve got to stop doing that, Red, or I’m gonna get in trouble for bringing a patron off while on the job.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, trying to still my hips as Trevor’s fingertips dig against me.
“Brat,” he warns. “You keep that up and I have a feeling you’ll be embarrassed about it later.”
I hide my face in his neck as I catch my breath, knowing he’s right. I’m acting ridiculous, too keyed up to be thinking rationally and all but humping his damn leg inside a bar. Even so…
“Say it again,” I beg.
Trevor grabs hold of my chin, staring me down with intense, dark eyes. “Is that what you need to be? My brat?”
My breath stutters. “And if it is?”
He tightens his grip. “You be whoever you are, Isaac Newport. I’m not afraid of your flames.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I slide off Trevor’s lap before the urge to come can overrule my senses. He gently guides me to his side closest to the wall, one hand at my lower back as his bulk hides me from view. I take a minute to let my cock deflate. A long, long minute.
Once I’ve regained a modicum of my decency, I utter an, “I’m sorry,” loud enough to be heard over the music.
Trevor shakes his head, tugging me back between his legs, his stool affording us a safe amount of distance. “I’m not. I learned something important about you tonight.”
“That I’m a horny little bitch when the mood strikes?”
He huffs a laugh, a smile quirking his mouth. “No. I found some boundaries I think you’re going to enjoy pushing.”
My pulse spikes, but Trevor doesn’t give me any time to worry over his words. The way he’s looking at me? Like he wouldn’t mind me pushing? Like he’d maybe even enjoy it just as much?
I’m scared to hope.
“I think you’re a very patient man,” I tell him, glancing down at the lone ice cube in the bottom of my glass.
His hum is a rumble. “And I think you have a skewed perception of your worth.”
I blow out a breath before tipping the ice cube into my mouth, needing a damn dunk underneath a cold shower. The cube will have to do.
“Grab another if you want,” Trevor says of my drink. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, you aren’t. Are you?”
Trevor doesn’t miss my meaning. He shoots me one of his secretive smiles, letting me go so I can return to the bar. I get a water this time and find a place out of the way to watch Trevor for a while.
It’s another ten minutes before someone approaches who must have missed me grinding on his lap earlier.
I’m not the least bit surprised to see Trevor getting hit on.
The man makes an impression. He’s a head taller than most people in a crowd, big even while sitting down.
Add in clothes that show off the ink covering his skin, and it’s near impossible to look away.
He’s every bit a work of art. I can’t blame anyone for their interest.
The new admirer isn’t as bold as the last. But the moment she touches his arm, Trevor’s gaze finds me in the crowd, the man aware of exactly where I am.
I sip my water, watching, knowing he’s capable of handling her on his own.
And when he redirects his gaze her way, holding up his palms in a clear hands off gesture?
I can’t help the way my blood sings in satisfaction.
Trevor spends the next hour working without my interference, checking IDs at the door and heading to the bar for a moment to switch out a keg.
I never once get bored of watching him. The flex of his muscles or the way he bounces his leg gently while sitting on his stool.
Once, he rolls his shoulders back in a casual stretch, and I swear I moan.
The rest of the bar becomes white noise. The music. The patrons. I barely notice any of it.
When a group of guys comes in shortly before one, I can tell Trevor’s about to gain a new groupie. The brunette heads to the bar with his friends, but I don’t miss the way his gaze keeps returning to the front door and Trevor. I give him five minutes tops.
He only waits four. The brunette breaks away from his friends when they head to one of the pool tables, the crowd starting to thin as the night wears on.
I can’t tell what he’s saying to try to hook my boyfriend, but I enjoy watching him try.
He doesn’t go the conventional route. No gentle arm touches or questioning smiles.
He steps right into Trevor’s space, a grin on his face as he curls a finger over the hem of Trevor’s low-cut shirt.
Trevor’s eyes find mine instantly, and a thrill shoots down my spine.
This time, I shrug, and Trevor holds my gaze for another long moment before nodding almost imperceptibly.
He doesn’t remove the man’s hand from his chest, but neither does he express any sort of interest. He’s polite.
Detached. Perfectly professional for an employee inside a bar where flirty patrons are to be expected.
And the simple fact that he understood it’s not about people touching him? That it’s about me getting a say?
It’s as exhilarating as it is terrifying.
Trevor doesn’t allow the guy to get further with his advance, much as he tries. Eventually, the brunette returns to his friends.
I can’t keep my distance then. Trevor’s eyes track me as I walk through the crowd. He welcomes me easily, his hands warm as they settle to either side of my hips. I’m grateful for the wide span of his grip helping to keep me upright.
“Did you like that?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “Having that guy fawn all over you?”
“What do you think?” Trevor rumbles.
“I think you kept looking at me instead of him.”
He tugs me closer, his lips near my ear. “I think you’re right. Did you enjoy it, brat? Letting that man touch what he’ll never have?”
“And why won’t he?” I ask breathlessly.
Trevor’s eyes find mine, the openness there flooring me. “You know why. I’m yours.”
My inhale stutters. “When do you get off work again?”
“Another half hour. Wait here with me?”
I nod, stepping aside as a few people pass on their way out the door. Trevor keeps me close for the rest of the night, tucked against his side or between his legs. The minutes pass at an absolute crawl.
But when the brunette leaves with his friends, his eyes catching mine for only a second before flicking away? I see it. The envy in his gaze.
And healthy or not, I revel in it.