Chapter 21 Luc
My mind’s made up; I’m going to take a risk.
I need things between me and Cody back to how they were before I ruined it, and I need it soon.
Maybe I could have been patient if he didn’t look at me the way he does, like he still wants me and is desperately trying to fight it.
If only he’d stop resisting . . . but maybe I know how to make him.
I’ll give him something I know he can’t say no to, and I have just the thing.
The following day after work, I make a brief stop at my father’s house before walking to Cody’s.
I change into a long raincoat, and it’s not for the reason you’d expect.
This choice of clothes has nothing to do with me getting soaked last night; it’s not even raining today.
No, this coat is part of a surprise for Cody, because it’s more about what I’m wearing underneath—or rather, what I’m not.
I’m not completely naked, but I have a feeling this will get his attention.
I can’t wait to see how he responds. It’ll be great if it works the way I want it to. Of course, there’s a possibility he won’t like it, but I have to try. Certain things are worth taking a chance on.
As I make my way over, the streets are busy, as could be expected. There’s always liveliness in a capital city such as this one. I try my best to avoid bumping into anyone or making eye contact with people, because my current circumstances make me feel extra vulnerable, more exposed.
By the time I reach his street, my palms are damp and my heart is racing, but I force myself forward anyway.
To my relief, I reach Cody’s house without any interruptions.
When he opens the door and sees me, his eyes immediately fall on my long black coat.
It’s not surprising—it’s very noticeable.
It belongs to my dad, so it’s pretty big, long, and very different from what I usually wear.
“A raincoat,” he says, eying my outfit and nodding. “Smart.”
I give him a mysterious smile. “Maybe, but it’s not really about the raincoat. Can I come in? I have a surprise for you.”
He nods, unsuspecting, and steps aside, letting me walk past him and closing the door behind us. I put the lemon cake I brought on the dinner table, hoping he won’t want it just yet. I’m far too excited to wait, eager to show him what I have for him.
Luckily, once he joins me in the living room, he ignores the cake and keeps his eyes on me. That’s good. I need them to stay exactly where they are.
Slowly, I start taking off the raincoat, unzipping it and pulling it down until it falls on the floor. I stare at him, awaiting his response. Whether or not this will work depends on his self-control. I can only hope it’s not as strong as his desire for me.
Once I’ve removed the coat, Cody’s eyes fall and his lips part—a good sign. I’m wearing the sweater he loaned me yesterday . . . and nothing else.
“You’re wearing my sweater,” he says. The way he visibly swallows tells me this is getting to him. “And no pants.”
“Yes,” I reply, taking a step toward him. But that’s not close to all; I have yet to tell him the best part. “And guess what?” I whisper seductively. “I’m also not wearing any underwear.”
His eyes widen in excitement. It’s the sign I hoped for and the final push I need to take this further.
Without breaking eye contact, I grab the sweater by the hem and slightly lift it.
I stop before he can see anything, pulling the sweater up to just underneath my private parts, to where my boxers would usually be.
Just enough to prove to him I’m naked underneath.
Honestly, I’m feeling excited too. I’ve been nervous and a little turned on since the moment I stepped outside wearing this.
Cody’s gaze follows my motions, and when the full meaning of it hits him, he lets out a huff. His cheeks turn red. Oh yes, that’s precisely the kind of response I was looking for.
After what feels like a long stare, he finally forces his gaze up to meet mine.
“Why are you doing this, Luc?” His voice sounds different, rougher than usual, and it reminds me of what it sounded like the last time we had sex. He’s turned on; that much I can tell. I’ll bet he’s already stiffening in his pants.
If he thinks I’ll make this easy for him, he’s very wrong. If anything, I’m going to make it impossible for him to turn me down.
I lower my hands, bringing the sweater down. “Because I’m trying to show you how it could be if we were together. I’d walk around in skimpy clothes all the time, and I promise I’ll sit on your cock every night.”
He groans, the frustration practically oozing from him. He’s still trying to resist me, for some reason, no matter how difficult it seems to be. If only he’d stop doing that.
“This is . . . I mean, we’re supposed to . . .” After several failed attempts to form a complete sentence, he sighs and starts over. “I don’t know what you want, but I won’t be your sugar daddy, Luc,” he says. “If that’s what you want, you should find it elsewhere.”
His words surprise me. I’m not sure where they came from, but that’s not why I’m here, so I shake my head.
“I don’t want that. I’ll work at the cake shop, and at night you can use me however you like, simply because I want you to.
” I play with the edge of the sweater again, pulling it up slightly to tease him.
His eyes immediately follow. Looking at him, I can tell I almost have him.
There’s one thing I can add that will hopefully convince him.
“J’ai envie de toi, Cody. Do you know what that means? It means I want you.”
He bites his lip. “God, why do you always know just what to say?”
I shrug and laugh at that. “It’s a French thing.”
He lets out a deep breath, and finally, I can see his resistance crumble. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed—until he says the following words. “Come here, princess.”
I groan inwardly and don’t need to be told twice.
Relief fills me as I rush across the living room toward him.
Without another word, I throw myself into his arms, pressing against him and savoring his touch.
In response, he clutches me so tightly it almost hurts, but I don’t care.
In fact, I want more. I bridge the distance between us and kiss him, hard, my tongue pushing into his mouth as I hook a leg around his hip.
His hand seizes my thigh and holds it in place, his palm pressed high against my bare skin.
The heat of it nearly drives me mad, and I can’t help but think I should wear nothing but Cody’s sweater more often.
His actions show that he missed me. He’s holding me tightly, one hand wrapped around my leg and the other around my waist. I quickly become addicted to the feeling of being wanted, needed.
His kissing is rougher than usual, his beard lightly scratching my skin.
I start wondering what that prickle would feel like on other parts of my body.
Maybe that’s one of the things I’ll soon discover.
God, it feels like I’ve been waiting for this for so long.
Why did I not allow myself to have him sooner?
I can’t tell which of us is more eager, and things immediately heat up, as though postponing it even for another second would kill us both. Before I know it, he slides his hand up, grabbing my left ass cheek. Holy stars.
In response, I moan and grind against him, pushing our crotches together.
I claim his mouth in a dirty kiss, swirling my tongue around his, while his fingers are edging closer and closer to my asshole.
My cock grows hard at record speed, and I’m aching for his touch, for his fingers deep inside me—and eventually something else that’s bigger. It’s all I could think about lately.
After another minute of passionate kissing, caressing, and grinding, Cody pulls away, breathing heavily.
“What do you want, Luc? Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss. I can see my lust reflected in him: he looks almost desperate, want and desire filling his eyes.
It’s an easy question. “I want you to fuck me. Right now.”
He bites his lip. “The couch is closest.”
I look away from him to glance at the couch, and I don’t have to think long.
No, I don’t want to do it there. I want to be with him in his bed, where he’ll hopefully let me fall asleep in his arms after we’re exhausted from all the climaxes we’ve shared.
Whereas, if we do this on the couch, it might be a reason for him to tell me to leave after. I don’t want to risk that.
So I shake my head. “I want the bed.”
He requires no further convincing, which is a relief for multiple reasons. Perhaps I don’t have to worry that he’ll want me to leave. “The bed it is.”
We rush into the bedroom, never quite letting go of each other.
When we’re in front of the bed, he practically rips his shirt off, exposing his broad chest. For a moment, I’m stuck staring at him, at the trail of hair traveling from his chest to his stomach and further down, until his following words snap me out of it.
“Get on the bed, baby boy. And keep the sweater on.”
Baby boy. Keep the sweater on. Goodness, I couldn’t be any more turned on if I tried. Precum is oozing from my cock already, even though we’ve barely even started.
Happily, I obey his orders, and I press my lips together as I lower myself onto the bed. I want this so badly. When I walked out his door the morning after we first had sex, I had to go against my every instinct not to jump him. I should have known better than to resist it.
“You can do whatever you want with me,” I tell him, putting my arm behind my head and giving him the most flirtatious look possible. “As long as you keep calling me baby boy . . . or princess.”