Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Ricky
Once our breathing had steadied and our hearts were no longer thundering in our chests, Elliot gave me one last soft kiss and dropped back into the passenger seat with a sated groan.
I reached over to open the glove compartment and handed him some napkins that were stashed in there, keeping one for myself.
He thanked me, and we both quickly cleaned up before refastening our pants.
I rolled my window down an inch to let some fresh air in and cool down the interior.
Elliot handed me the huge slushie cup so he could stretch over the center console to reach for the paper bag on the back seat.
I almost started drooling at the sight of his pale stomach under the hem of his crop top, the lean muscles tight from the stretch, the little ring in his belly button winking with each tiny movement.
When I saw a hint of his pubic hair as his jeans rode indecently low on his hips, I had to stifle a moan.
But I couldn’t stop myself from swiftly dipping down to press a kiss to his bare stomach, which made Elliot jolt a little and laugh as he sat back in his seat, placing the bag in his lap.
“Snack time.” He pulled out both bags of chips, passed me one and ripped into the other. Within seconds, he was shoveling a handful into his mouth and speaking around them. “How was work today? We didn’t get to talk before you left. Liz wanted to talk to me about organizing the work schedule.”
I made a face, because I was now remembering that awful conversation with Brett this morning. I wished I could’ve called it an argument, but he was so damn obnoxious that he’d barely even argued back. Which just made the whole thing more annoying.
I sighed and filled Elliot in, telling him everything.
How weird it had been when Brett had initially acted like nothing had happened, and how much weirder it had become when he’d done it again, just a couple of hours after our heated words.
When he couldn’t even blame his forgetfulness on alcohol or anything.
“It is so freaking creepy.” I shook my head, biting down on a strawberry rope. “It’s almost like he’s having a separate conversation to the one that’s actually happening. Like he makes himself hear something totally different to what you’re saying, because it’s not what he wanted you to say.”
Elliot laughed while he unwrapped a chocolate bar. “Yeah, it’s like trying to teach algebra to a dog, right? He’s looking at you, and it seems like he’s listening, but you know there’s nothing really happening behind the eyes. None of it’s going in.”
I snorted at the analogy, even though the reality was kind of depressing, mostly because he was right.
Then again, Brett seemed more manipulative than that, so maybe not.
But I didn’t want to ruin our night by talking about him any longer than necessary.
He’d already almost ruined our evening yesterday.
I asked Elliot how his day had been in the other kitchen and how closing had gone, and tried our monster slushie as I listened to his husky voice.
Every now and then I held out the cup to him, and he’d pause for as long as it took to take a long, slurping sip, then carry on talking.
My lips were tilted into a languid smile around the straw as I leaned my head on the rest behind me and watched him.
Now that he was even closer, and I had the luxury of staring at him as much as I wanted without worrying about anyone finding it odd, I was able to catalog even more details that I banked in my memory to revisit later.
He was wearing an earring—a little cartoon-style bone on a silver chain that brushed the hinge of his jaw whenever he tilted his head to the side while he talked.
There were a couple of silver rings on his fingers, the metal pitted and scratched, and his nails were painted black.
Around his neck was a tangle of silver chains, and the flash of them drew my gaze to the bob of his Adam’s apple in his slender throat as he spoke.
It was prominent. Masculine. I wanted to feel it moving under my lips and tongue.
I wanted to know how it dipped and jumped when I made him moan.
He was so devastatingly hot that it made my teeth hurt.
It wasn’t the candy. It wasn’t even the tooth-meltingly sweet slushie.
It was him. I was so attracted to him that my body didn’t fully know how to express it or what a suitable outlet was when I wasn’t able to get my hands all over him or kiss him endlessly or feel him coming against me.
But it wasn’t just his looks. It was all of him. Every part of him. Everything that made him Elliot. And there was no one else in the world like Elliot. I knew that for certain.
***
All the sugar did definitely make us go a little crazy. We ate all the candy, and we got through half of the enormous slushie before admitting defeat.
Elliot asked me to show him the color of my tongue.
When I stuck it out, seeing its unnatural purple hue from the corner of my eye, he laughed and did the same, before darting in to lick my tongue.
I laughed and chased him back to his seat to do the same, which devolved into long minutes of hot, wet kissing that had my dick aching again.
I was about to ask if I could finally, finally suck him off when he shoved me back into my seat, shoulders to the door behind me, and ripped open my fly.
Before I could utter a word, he was ducking down and sucking me into his mouth with a long, low moan.
I gasped, hands flying up to card through his hair.
My hips twitched against the car seat—just once, but he moaned like he’d enjoyed it, so I did it again. Then again.
“El-Elliot,” I panted, my eyes repeatedly trying to roll back from the mind-melting pleasure of hot, wet suction around my cock.
But I didn’t want to miss a second of this, so I forced myself to keep my eyes on him.
To witness the way his mouth engulfed my cock with every downward bob of his head, and how pouty his lips became when they dragged back up my length so he could circle the weeping tip with his glistening pink tongue.
I came shockingly fast, the visual far too much.
Elliot moaned hungrily, his throat working as he swallowed every hard jet I pumped into his mouth and stroked my shaft in squeezing pulls to try and milk even more out of me.
My eyes finally did roll back in my skull from the sensation, which made me shudder hard in pleasure until it turned into flinches when my cock grew hypersensitive.
Elliot gave my tip a final, almost loving lick before lifting his head.
I didn’t let him get too far, though, already cupping his jaw and tugging his mouth to mine.
I could taste myself on his tongue, just like that first night at work.
It made fresh arousal flare in my belly and rush through my veins.
I was sated, but I also wasn’t, because I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of him. Ever.
“Let me,” I pleaded against his lips, releasing his face to reach down and fumble with his fly.
Elliot shuddered, fingers curling into my sweatshirt and clutching it tight. I could feel how much he was shaking. He let out a strangled sound, almost as if he was wrestling internally with something. With himself, for some reason.
Before I could pull his cock out, he jerked back and started clambering gracelessly between the seats. “L-let’s get into the back.”
I followed him eagerly, and by the time I settled on the back seat beside him, he’d already tugged off one of his boots and shoved his jeans and underwear down to get them off one leg.
A choked sound left me when he leaned back against the door behind him and let his knees fall open wide, one pressing against the back seat, while his booted foot, with his jeans still bunched around the ankle, landed heavily in the footwell beside us.
I was never going to recover from this. From the sight of Elliot in nothing but a cropped tank that had fallen haphazardly to one side of his chest, revealing a pale little nipple.
The ring in his navel glinted with every hectic breath he took.
His bare limbs were long and lean, almost coltish, and his face was staggeringly handsome, all sharp edges and shadowed hollows and strong features.
Dark, arched brows; impossibly icy blue eyes; and full, pale lips that were parted around his shallow breaths.
His hand was wrapped around his hard cock, long fingers gripping tight, twitching restlessly.
He tilted it upright so it was pointing directly at the roof of the car, showing me its full slender length, every vein winding around the shaft, the glossy crown emerging from his retracted foreskin.
Below it, his balls were already pulled tight, high and firm at the base of his shaft.
And just beneath, I could see the curve of his ass cheeks, and the vulnerable dip between them.
My breathing was loud and ragged in the still, dark quiet of the car. Lust was boiling in my veins, rendering me momentarily paralyzed. I couldn’t move. I was literally too turned on to move, and I’d come just moments ago. But the sight of him like this was too much.
“I want you to watch me,” he breathed, the blue of his eyes so pale they looked almost solid white in the dim light inside the car. “Watch what you do to me, Ricky.”
I shuddered out an unsteady breath at the idea of it, but still croaked, “I want to touch you, Elliot.”
“Just… just kiss me,” he panted. “Please, Ricky.”
I groaned, leaning over to nuzzle his face. “Can’t I—”