Chapter 10
Ten
Logan
He bit my dick. Shit hurt. That makes total sense, but that’s not the part that has me fucked up. What I can’t figure out is why I liked it so much.
“Logan,” he seethes next to me, and I have to forcibly drag my eyes off of his mouth.
“What?”
“She asked you a question.” His face is so fucking red. It’s such an intense blush that it’s spreading to his chest. And his shirt is so... frilly. It’s white and sheer. I can see his nipples. They look hard. And pink.
“Logan!” He smacks my arm, and it snaps me out of autopilot.
“What?”
Baby rolls his eyes, and a round of quiet giggles circles around the table. “He builds...” He waves a hand helplessly as he searches for the word he’s looking for. “Things. Houses, and sometimes buildings. Right?”
“Oh. Yeah, sort of. We build foundations for houses and commercial buildings.”
“Like masonry? That’s what my boyfriend does.” I don't remember her name or any of their names apart from Audrey’s, but she looks proud as she says it. It makes it easy to like her and unsettles that part of me that felt self-conscious talking about myself.
“Sometimes. We do a lot of shit–stuff.” It’s a habit to correct myself. My mom would smack the back of my head for that slip-up if she were here.
I try to stay focused on the table and the scattered conversations, I really do, but it’s too hard—not unlike my cock.
It’s been chilling at half mast ever since Audrey came outside to find us so everyone could order food.
It’s insane to me that he—Baby, the guy who refuses to get on his bed in his outside clothes—got on his knees so quickly.
For me. In an alley. While wearing a new outfit. After he practically mauled me.
Every little detail of the whole thing is crazy on its own.
He knows I’m watching him. The way he avoids looking at me, pretends to be paying full attention to everyone else, makes it obvious.
He looks uncomfortable. Which is fair—I’m being a creep.
No better than those guys I was mentally cursing at the mall the other day.
When I finally manage to look away, I end up finding Audrey staring at me.
She smiles when our eyes meet, and it feels a bit like I’ve been caught.
“God, it’s taking a long time.” She sighs. “I sure wish we’d ordered sooner.”
Ah. She thinks she’s funny.
“What were you guys doing out there for so long?”
“So long—it was like a minute,” Baby is quick to step in.
“Oh, is that all it took—a single minute?” Her smile grows as she winks at him. “Impressive, Babe.”
“Audrey—” He purses his lips when the rest of the girls start laughing. I start to join in, but one glare and I’m quiet.
“Fra–”
“No!” Baby holds out his hands, trying to physically block her from speaking.
She sits in stunned silence for all of two seconds before she snaps out of it. “Your boyfriend doesn’t know your old name?”
“You do?” That’s not fucking fair.
“My name is Baby.” He huffs as he crosses his arms over his chest, covering himself more than the shirt he has on was able to.
He’ll dig his teeth into my cock but won’t tell me his name. What kind of fuckery is that?
The same girl who loves bragging about her concrete-handling boyfriend asks a question that never occurred to me to ask myself. “Yeah, why does everyone call you Baby?”
“Because.” He very petulantly leaves it at that. He’s so red. Like a little tomato. It’s almost adorable. This time, when a quiet laugh slips past my lips, I ignore his scowl.
“He’s just Baby,” I answer for him with a shrug.
While I do wish I knew his real name, it makes sense to me, and he doesn’t need to explain himself to anyone.
“It suits him.” I put my arm around his shoulders and leave it there when he groans.
But the rest of the table isn’t as annoyed as he is.
They give us a collective aw and it goes to my head.
They all think we’re a real couple—a cute one. I’d be a good boyfriend.
Not sure Baby sees it that way, but I’m gonna let myself be proud.
Excitement bubbles up around us as our food finally arrives, and it gives me the chance to check on him. “You okay?”
“I wish you’d stop asking me that.”
“I wish you’d give me an answer.”
“I’m fine.”
I stare for a moment until he sighs.
“I’m… in a bad mood.”
I snort.
“It’s not funny,” he whispers miserably.
“I wanted—you and I were—” He’s choking out words in a hurry, not making any sense as he does.
“It’s like finally, but then Audrey interrupted us and…
” He covers his face but then quickly remembers where he is and sits up taller, his very brief descent into upset gone just like that.
I’m not sure I understand. Was he trying to tell me that he wants to bite my dick again?
I’m probably projecting. Just because I’d be down for that doesn’t mean he is. I’d love to ask him, but this isn’t exactly a good time—not that my boner agrees. There’s not as much room in these pants as I’m used to, and that’s a situation that seems to be progressing.
It’s uncomfortable enough that I force myself to throw him—us—a bone. “There’s always later.”
He looks up at me, surprise and what I choose to believe is hope painting his pretty pink face.
Makes me wish later was more like right the fuck now.
∞∞∞
“Logan?”
I look over at him, relieved to finally hear his voice after driving in silence for the past fifteen minutes.
“Did you mean it?”
“I wouldn’t have said it unless I did.” Part of me regrets the retort, but we’ve already gone over this. It’s gotten tiring, just how much he disregards the things I say.
“I know, but are we really going to go home and… well, do what exactly?”
I can’t look at him as hard as I want to, too busy watching the road. But from the glimpses I do catch, I can tell that he’s nervous. He has been most of the night. I’m pretty sure it’s why he threw back so many pina coladas.
I almost always have the urge to comfort him, and he almost always slaps me for it.
It’s why when I put my hand on his knee to give it a reassuring squeeze, I’m pleasantly surprised that he lets me.
I wish he weren’t always so on edge around me.
I know it tends to be how he functions—I’m not the only one he snaps at—but I wish things were different with me.
And right now especially. Plus, he’s been with guys before—I’m the one who should be nervous.
Truthfully, I’m not. I’ve always been comfortable around Baby. It’s why he’s the only roommate I really talk to. I like him, find him easy and fun to be around. Throwing a little tongue—and teeth—into the mix definitely hasn’t changed that.
I can’t deny that I’m out of my element, but with as unsure as he is at the moment, I figure it’s best to be blunt. “Do you still want to suck my dick?”
He huffs. “Logan…” He crosses his arms over his chest, refusing to answer.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” he whispers angrily, but he doesn’t sound all that hyped about it. He even thumps his head on the window next to him, and I have to try not to take it personally.
Not sure there’s any other way to take it, though. “You drank a lot.” Slowing things down might be for the best.
“So?” He’s been quiet for a while, and hearing him now does shine some light on how tipsy he is.
“Maybe we should wait. You—”
“No!”
Yeah. He’s wasted. He did stumble a little bit climbing into the truck, but I had chalked it up to his shoes and the height he had to hoist himself up.
“Is it because I bit you? I don’t usually—I mean, I bite, yes. But not… dicks. Or not usually. Logan, it was an accident—I can do better.”
“Baby—”
“You said later!” He goes from whiny to mad in an instant, and I know laughing would be a bad idea. “It’s later.”
“I’m not saying—whoa, don’t do that.” I reach my hand over, trying to stop him from unbuckling his seat belt, but it’s pointless. He’s already moving towards me, scooting his butt over into the center of the bench.
“Come on.”
“I’m driving.”
“Please?”
He lays his cheek against the seat, looking up at me with the saddest blue eyes I've ever seen on him. It always hits me hard when they make an appearance, confuses me because I have no idea where it comes from or what he wants from me. Usually. I know exactly what he wants now.
I open my mouth, a hypnotized moron about to give this boy and his pretty eyes everything he could ever dream of, but the sound of a car horn snaps me out of it. “Shit! I’m—keep your hands to yourself, Baby. I’m driving.”
“Pull over.”
I snort, shaking my head in disbelief. Babies should not drink.
This is very out of character for him, and I guarantee he’s going to flip his shit when he’s sober.
He’s a fairly reserved prude most of the time—it’s not something I say just to tease him.
Begging for dick seems like the kind of thing a sober Baby would regret.
It’s why, as much as I want to give in, I can’t. “No.”
He lets out the wimpiest little grunt and plants his forehead on my shoulder. When I start to feel bad again, his fucking hand moves.
“Baby,” I warn, but it’s nothing more than a bluff.
It’s hard saying no to him when I actually mean it, and I definitely don’t mean it now.
I enjoy his touch too much. Always have, really.
It’s so rare to have him touch me, but here he is.
He might laugh and shove my arm, or fall asleep and lean on me from time to time, but this is new. Exciting.
It feels a little bit like he’s jacking off my pride, and all he’s done so far is breathe his pineapple and rum-soaked breath on me while petting me.
He doesn’t struggle so much with undoing my slacks this time around, and my enabling comes even easier.
I spread my thighs for him immediately, all too happy to flex my hips and give him the space he needs.
I’m acting like a virgin—too eager and responsive.
I can feel myself already starting to stiffen, and he hasn’t even gotten the courage to touch me where I want him to.
If it were anyone else—anyone but the one person I look forward to talking to every single day and who I miss so much when I don’t get to—I’d be embarrassed. But it’s him, my little vampire.
I hear a shattered breath just as his hand firmly wraps around me, and the feeling of his cold fingers is enough to make my balls twitch. I have to grit my teeth as his dry palm slips along the entire length, my cock hard enough to hurt.
I should have pulled over. There’s a reason I typically do whatever he tells me to, and I’m gonna remember this moment the next time I consider not obeying him.
The quiet whine he releases is all the warning I get before he’s forcing my elbow up, giving himself the room he needs to lean over my lap.
“Baby—” My protests die there, that little death the French like to brag about so much. His mouth is warm and velvety, so fucking wet. It’s better than all of the bliss I was already floating in. It blows my mind that his mouth is even capable of this, already so used to the bites.
My fingers thread through his hair, and I’m obsessed with the feel of it all over again.
I think I always have been obsessed with him—his hair, the pink fingernails he has digging into my thigh, his mouth.
He’s drooling on my cock, sucking me down and swallowing around me more than anyone else ever has and I’m demented enough to crave those fucking teeth of his.
He stops to suckle at the crown, and I speed up as my foot tenses over the gas pedal. I have to force myself to rein it in. “Just like that,” I whisper as his mouth sinks back down. He doesn’t need any pointers, but the words have him tilting his face and giving me a peek of his eyes and—
“Oh.”I have to swerve to avoid clipping a sidewalk, the movement triggering a gag as I hit the back of his throat. “My bad. ”
He drags his forearm across his mouth as he sits up. “Pull over.”
This time I listen. His hand keeps things going, glides up and down my cock easily with that mix of spit and my own juices until I can find a spot to park.
It ends up being in a mostly empty strip mall, and I’m grateful that it’s late enough that not much is open.
As soon as the truck is settled across two spaces, I pull his face to mine and kiss his swollen lips, a move he doesn’t expect.
I’m not usually so into make-outs—though I’m not usually so fixated on mouths either.
It’s different with him. We kiss for so long, I start to feel breathless.
The air in the car is humid and warm, wrapping us in a sensual blanket that I never want to lose.
My blood feels hot. He feels it too. I can tell in the way he goes adorably soft, breathing the sweetest little sighs right over my tongue as the hand working me over begins struggling to keep a steady pace, his grip loosening more and more.
As much as I love it, that I can affect this brat like that, I miss the pressure too much to ignore it. When I try to take over the strokes, he takes it personally, actually pulls away from me to glare at me.
“You want to be the one to make me come, Baby?”
His palm rolls slowly over my cockhead, matching the tone of my lowered voice as he uses the space between us to catch his breath.
He can’t answer, not with words, but I can see the lust in his eyes.
There’s a drop of saliva on his bottom lip—his or mine, doesn’t matter—and I lean forward to lick it off.
“Then be a good boy and use a little teeth.”
I feel more than hear him moan against my lips, and then he shoves roughly at my chest, pushing me back so he can lean down again. He gives me exactly what I need, letting the hand wrapped tightly around me follow his lips with every bob of his head.
It’s great just with that, but it’s the gentle scrape he drags over my skin that I find myself instantly addicted to. It’s not a bite, much too tender, but all of it combined makes it the best head I’ve ever gotten.
At some point, I’m aware of how small my shoes are, my toes attempting to curl as he continues blessing me with his efforts to make me come.
“I’m close.”
But he doesn’t stop, just moans around me and moves faster.
It feels like we’re supposed to be doing this. It’s too perfect to not make sense. We should have been doing this from the start, right on day one.
“Fuck,” I groan as my head falls back.
My abs tighten, and I tense my body to avoid hammering into his throat as a blinding pleasure bursts directly from my balls.
He swallows. Over and over he swallows, just stays still until he’s drained me completely dry.
When my dick finally stops twitching, he pulls away and softly grazes the oversensitive glans, triggering an aftershock. I laugh, can’t help it.
He doesn’t leave, just lays his rosy cheek on my thigh with his eyes closed as he breathes heavily. When I use my thumb to wipe a lone tear off his face, he gives me a sleepy smile.
“What a good fuckin’ boy.”