Chapter 7 #2
“Guys like me?” Stupid. Stupid. Why did I—
He cupped the back of my head with one of his big hands and swooped down.
His lips on mine were pure fire. A tremble worked through my body and my stomach twisted with heat.
He pulled me closer with a hand on my lower back, and I let out a ragged moan as my hair-trigger dick collided with the solid muscle of his thigh.
My hands had a mind of their own as I trailed them up to tease over those obliques I’d been admiring.
KC pulled back to laugh, the warm gust of his breath across my lips drawing me in again.
He teased his slick tongue between my lips, and as I sucked on it, my cock bucked in my jeans.
I slid my hands up to ghost my thumbs over his nipples, which were hidden beneath his shirt.
A jolt of electricity stabbed my stomach and zigzagged to my throbbing cockhead as he lifted me up.
“Oh my God, you’re strong.” I wrapped my legs around his trim waist. The muscles on his body were insane.
Things I’d only imagined as I’d drawn them were straining and alive against my body.
My head was fuzzy as I buried my face against his shoulder and sucked hard on his neck. The soft skin felt so good in my mouth.
“Easy,” he mumbled but didn’t ask me to stop. He tilted his head to give me more room. “We probably—harder. There.”
I tugged at his shirt, and he leaned back, chest heaving, to study my face.
“Can I see you?” I begged.
He kissed my cheek, a firm press of his lips against my skin, and a strange, beautiful sensation scrabbled through me. “For the sake of art?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
He set me on my feet, then held me steady for a few seconds while I reacquainted myself with gravity.
There wasn’t a hint of hesitation on KC’s face as he stripped off his T-shirt, but then again, why would anyone who looked that way worry?
He smiled as I stared, struck stupid by all that masculine glory.
I’d read Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Gray, and at the time, I’d understood being consumed by a muse, a person you wanted to draw and draw and keep to yourself, but I’d had no idea what true obsession was until this moment.
The freckles, the dusting of golden-red hair on his chest, the muscles. So many fucking muscles. I wanted to weep. I wanted to give him a tongue bath. I should probably run away before I fucked this up, but I didn’t.
“You’re perfect,” I whispered, feeling elated and strangely small all at the same time.
“Hold on. You can’t decide something like that without the total package.” A flush slid across his cheekbones, the first hint of any shyness, and he slid his thumbs under the waistband of his jeans.
“You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to,” I said, brushing my fingers over his wrists.
“Next time, you can draw your lumberjack naked.” He winked.
“He wasn’t you!” I bit the corner of my lip and shrugged. We both knew that was a big fat fib.
“You’re too sweet to lie.” He unbuckled his belt and popped the button on those jeans. I held my breath as he pushed them down, along with his underwear.
The cock that sprang out made my knees wobble, and I sank to the floor in reverence. I licked my lips as KC hastily shoved the material farther down his thighs.
“Big,” I murmured.
“It’s all right.” He grinned, and I almost came in my pants for the second time today when he gave himself a small stroke.
He was probably on the short side for a porn star, but much bigger than me.
The head of his cut cock was pink and kind of heart shaped.
Elegant. Of course it was. His shaft curved a bit, which meant that as hard as he was right now, it was one big drop of precum away from kissing his abs.
“Are you just modeling or can I suck you off?” My ears were on fire and I tugged at my collar. Holy shit! I’m going to win that stupid bet!
“Oh fuck. You want to?” His eyes gleamed with feverish excitement. I wanted him to always look that way.
I opened my mouth, and he moaned as he stepped forward and slid his cockhead in. The immediate tanginess that hit my tongue made me whimper. His fuzzy thighs were a perfect warm spot to anchor my hands as I tried to swallow him and gagged.
This was more difficult than I’d thought it would be.
“Oh shit, that feels good.” He rested his hand on top of my head, almost like he was encouraging me to try again.
The firm cock sliding over my tongue made me giddy.
I tried to swallow him and gagged. He grunted and fisted my curls.
I had no real experience to go by, but I figured the squeeze and pressure of my throat on his cockhead felt good, so I pulled back and sucked on the tip, rolling my tongue around him.
“I’ve got a new appreciation for art,” KC said with a breathy laugh, then moaned when I used my right hand to slide along his shaft.
He was so gentle. Part of me wanted more—wanted him to jam his cock down my throat—but I also loved the way he was treating me. The conflicting desires were confusing. Ren would be rough. I knew it. The idea had me whimpering.
There was no way to take my attention off KC as I worked. His face transformed into pure sex, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut. His thigh tensed under my left hand. I loved it when he tugged lightly on my hair, urging me forward, telling me without words to speed up the rhythm.
He needed more.
Wanted more.
And he wanted it from me.
“Keep going. Fuck, your lips are so pretty that way. All stretched around me.” His gaze locked with mine, and I felt stunned as my cock throbbed, balanced on the edge. I’d never been this close to coming without tipping over into the abyss. Fire rushed through my body and I quivered.
He gripped my shoulders and nudged the hard-on trapped in my jeans with his shoe. The slight pressure sent me rocketing into bliss. I whined and frantically sucked on his cockhead to ride out the sensations, then choked as his forehead furrowed and he flooded my mouth with spurts of cum.
“Fuck, fuck,” he gasped, tugging my hair hard enough to sting. He never looked away from me, and a warm feeling unfolded in my chest, something shiny that made me want to draw hearts all around that lumberjack in my sketch pad.
Cum dribbled down my chin, but I managed to swallow most of the rest that he unloaded into my mouth as he cursed his way softly through his moment.
“Soup’s on, boys!” Mom’s shout from the kitchen was like a bucket of ice water tossed on our heads.
His eyes widened, and he stepped back, taking away my new toy and yanking up his jeans and underwear all in one swift motion. He hissed and tucked himself in, his dick still a clear outline against the front of the material.
“Wait.” I wiped my chin with the back of my hand.
“Uh, I have to go. I’ll text you about the tutoring.”
“Wh-what?”
He walked away while buckling his belt.
The front door had opened and closed before I got my shit together to rush out of my room after him.
“Isn’t KC staying?” Mom called as I flew through the living room, ignoring her.
The engine in his Jeep roared to life, but I made it to the driver’s side window before he started backing it up. My gut dropped as he lowered the window. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but a serious expression had chased away the teasing from my bedroom.
“Are you still going on that date?” I blurted, then could’ve kicked myself.
KC shivered and rested his elbow on the ledge of the window, then dropped his chin into his palm. His eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah, I planned on it. That was just some fun, right?” His jaw ticked.
“Yeah.” The pleasure from coming died a quick death as my mood spiraled to the center of the earth. The world took on a hazy tear shimmer. “Call me about the—the tutoring.”
With a nod, he backed the Jeep out of the driveway, and I thought perhaps he was dragging my heart along behind, but I didn’t see anything.
“Fuck!” I snapped when the Jeep was out of sight. Ren beat me earlier, overpowered me and made me look stupid and feel even worse. And now he was winning again, getting to date KC, even though I’d sucked his dick.
The whole bet thing was awful and wrong, but part of me had thought that if I did win—if I was the first one to do something sexy with KC—I would get my man.
How had I not realized that wasn’t true?
Fury at Ren almost choked me.
“Why did he leave?” Mom asked.
I flinched at her voice but didn’t turn around. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But he said he was staying?” She swatted me with a dishtowel.
“I said don’t worry about it.” I brushed past her and stomped back to my room to wallow and work out plans to end Ren and his tattoo parlor.
“I swear, you get more like your father every day.” She sighed, a sad sound.
Guilt ate away at me. I pivoted to go to the kitchen so I wouldn’t make her feel worse. Fuck. What had I been thinking? I dragged out a chair at the table and flopped down into it. “Perhaps I should be more like him.”
“Don’t joke about that!” She followed me to the table and sat down with her plate, already heaped with steaming mac and cheese.
But I was serious. Dad wouldn’t take a direct attack lying down, and I wouldn’t, either. I spun his ring on my finger and licked my lips. Not now that I knew how good KC tasted.
Well, I did sort of win, right? Next time I saw Ren, I’d tell him he needed to move his second-rate, trashy tattoo parlor far away from PD’s.
I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair.
“What’s wrong, hon?” Mom smiled at me.
“Nothing. I just need a shower,” I mumbled.
She hummed in agreement.
What a long, weird, almost good day.