8 Aubie #2
“Who the fuck are you?” the guy snarls.
Cutter reaches us and draws himself up. “Cutter Knight. Head of security. And you are?”
“Fuck you.”
He looks nonplussed. “Fine. Then why don’t you get back in your truck and leave?”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
Cutter brushes the curl back from his face, making me wish I was his hand. “As a matter of fact, I can. This is private property, so unless you’re a guest, you’re trespassing.”
“Guest?” He spits. “You’re a bunch of perverts.”
“Then you won’t mind leaving.” He pulls out his phone. “Am I dialing 9-1-1?”
The guy glances between us then narrows his eyes at me. “I’m watching you.”
I smile at him as he stomps over to his truck and pulls himself up inside. A minute later it rumbles to life then speeds around the side of the building, swerving through a row of parked cars.
“Not entirely sure he should be driving,” Cutter mutters, then turns his attention to me. “Are you all right?”
“I had it under control,” I insist, but I don’t make a move toward my car.
“Yeah, sure.”
“He wasn’t really going to hit me.” Even I don’t believe that, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him think I needed him.
“Oh, he was definitely going to hit you,” he scoffs. “What did you do to piss him off?”
“What makes you think I did something?”
He shakes his head. “I know you.”
In that minute my decision is made. I strut closer to him, exaggerating my gait. “Do you really know me?”
He doesn’t take the bait. “What did he want?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I think he was under the impression I made a move on his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? I thought…I mean, aren’t you–?”
“Gay?” I finish for him, then shrug. “Mostly. It’s a fluid thing.”
He narrows his eyes. “So did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Do what he said?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I might have flirted a little. I flirt with everyone.”
He nods. “There’s an old saying, maybe you’ve heard it before.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Don’t shit where you eat.”
I offer a lazy grin. “Eh, what can I say? I’m a people person.”
We stare at each other, a high voltage tension building.
His nostrils flare, his eyes locked on mine. That damn curl falls across his forehead again. His skin flushes.
I notice this, not because I’m looking for it. Not because I want to. There’s just something so damn intense about him. I want to see that steely control unravel. See him come apart because of me.
I know he feels it too. I can see it in his eyes. The way his jaw tenses. The way his breathing changes.
What the hell? I’ve never been one to resist dragging someone down in the mud with me, and he’s a challenge I can’t resist any more. Just a taste, then I’ll move on.
I drop my bag and take a step toward him, my tongue flicking out to wet my lips. His eyes widen. Is that heat I see smoldering there?
I saunter up to him, my eyes never leaving his. “Like what you see, tough guy?”
His gaze flicks away with a slight shake of his head. “I should get going.”
But he doesn’t move.
When I’m standing inches away, I reach toward him, grinning when he flinches away from my touch.
“I don’t bite,” I murmur. Much.
I trace my thumb over his bearded jaw, watching his eyes watch me as my hand slips lower, down his neck. Over his chest. “I’ll bet you’ve never tested your boundaries.” My fingers wander down his ripped abdomen until I reach his waist.
His voice is a hoarse plea. “What are you doing?”
I move closer and slip my hand into his pants. I’m surprised there isn’t steam coming from inside.
“Satisfying my curiosity.”
“Stop.”
There’s no heat in the command. He could push me away if he wanted, but he just stands there, his eyes holding mine.
“I hate you,” he mutters.
“Me too.” Though hate is a strong word for what I’m feeling. “Doesn’t mean you won’t like this.”
I flip open the button on his pants then slide down the zipper. I can see the bulge in his boxers, the tip of his cock nearly peeking over the top.
Tell me to stop, my eyes say as I sink to my knees. I look up at him as I inch his pants down, freeing his cock. I lick my lips and grin.
My tongue flicks out, lapping at his tip. His breath stutters, his eyes widening. Real deer in the headlights stuff.
I tongue his slit then open my mouth and slide my lips over his head. His hands fist my hair, though whether it’s to push me away or pull me closer isn’t clear. At least, not until I suck him in deep and moan around him.
His eyes roll back in his head.
Now we’re talking.
I drag my tongue along his length while I bob my head up and down on his cock. It’s grown rock hard and I take him deep into my throat. With no gag reflex, I’m practically swallowing him.
My fingers are itching to cup his balls. To sink into his hole.
But I restrain myself.
This is just about his cock and my need to feel its velvety weight inside my mouth.
To watch him come undone because of my actions.
To hear those sweet whimpers he probably doesn’t even know he’s making.
I spare a thought for where we are. Someone could drive around the corner at any moment, though we’re partially hidden behind a parked car. It doesn’t bother me if we’re discovered, though I have a feeling Cutter would be mortified.
I doubt the security cameras can see us, but that doesn’t stop me from imagining what whoever is watching might be thinking. Might as well give them a show.
“Shit,” Cutter groans. “Fuck, I’m…”
He tenses, his skin pebbling as he thrusts harder into my mouth, his fingers tangled in my hair.
Desperate.
I can tell he’s close. Must’ve been a while for him.
I ease back for a moment and his hands tighten on my head.
Impatient, are we? Ordinarily I’d take that as a sign to tease him a little, but I don’t think Cutter has that kind of sense of humor.
Judging by how hard he’s working to get his cock down my throat, this orgasm has been a long time coming.
He thrusts into my mouth like he’s chasing something.
Before I can think of a new way to torture him, he’s exploding across my tongue. I swallow what I can and lap up the rest, cleaning his cock then rising and tucking him back inside. He pushes me away and finishes closing his pants.
“I’m not gay,” he insists.
I grin. “Of course not. You’re just like any other guy. You like having your dick sucked.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I force myself to turn around and walk away from him, stopping to pick up my bag before crossing to my car. He’s still standing there when I drive past a couple of minutes later.
He looks untethered.
While it was totally worth it, there’s a part of me that’s still bothered.
Rather than get him out of my system, I feel like I just took a hit of the world’s best drug.
And I want more.