Chapter Seventeen #3
My stomach flutters at his words, like whatever he plans on doing automatically involves me. I want that. I want to be part of his plans today, whatever he does, but Sundays equal family time.
“It’s Sunday. I have lunch later with Mom and Dad.”
His face falls, and he groans, then pouts like I just told him I’m moving to the North Pole.
“But not yet. We still have a little time. What would you be doing if you were alone?”
He perks up, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Well… there’s this really kinky guy on this app. I might just shoot him a dick pic.”
I shake my head, grinning like a fool. “I think he blocked you.”
Caleb gasps, clutching his chest. “He wouldn’t!”
“He might. No, I’m serious, what would you do?”
He shrugs. “Reading probably. Or working out.”
I stretch, my neck cracking. “Yeah, I could really use a good workout too.”
Caleb gapes at me, and I realize the ambiguity of my words. I push at his shoulder, chuckling. “Not like that! Jeez. I mean a real workout. I’ve been wanting to find a gym ever since I moved back.”
“I have one.”
“Of course you do.” I squeeze his thick biceps. “But I don’t think I’m ready to go to a gym with you just yet.”
“No, I mean I have one. A gym. In my garage.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.” He smirks at me, his expression all boyish. “These babies need maintenance.” Then he flexes his pecs underneath his tank top.
“Oh, God. I forgot you were a jock in high school.”
“So were you.”
“Yeah, I don’t think being part of the high jumping team qualifies as being a jock.”
“No?”
“Nope.” I lean in and kiss him. “So… you wanna show me that home gym of yours? Wanna work up a non-sexual sweat with me, big guy?”
“Fuck yes. Can’t wait to see your ass flex in my shorts.” He frowns. “Okay, that sounded a little weird.”
I hold up my hand and pinch my thumb and index finger together. “Just a smidgen, maybe, but I’ll still need to borrow a pair.”
“Holy shit!” I stare at the massive workout bench in the middle of Caleb’s garage. “You weren’t kidding, huh?”
“Nope.” He pops the P, then grabs my hand and leads me to a rack in front of a wall mirror filled with different types of workout equipment. “Go big or go home, baby.”
I snort. “You’re such a dork.”
He beams at me, his bangs cutting across his forehead. “But a hot one, right?”
“Conceited,” I cough into my hand, unable to hide the smile spreading across my face.
“Pfft, you looove me,” he sing-songs, and my cheeks explode, because yes, I do. I love him.
“Don’t let it get to your head.”
He stares at me for a moment, something flashing in his eyes, and I can tell another sexual innuendo is on its way. But then he nods toward the weights instead. “Come on, let’s get you set up, sweetheart.”
We start out with some dumbbells, working out side by side in front of the mirror.
I ended up borrowing a pair of running shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt from Caleb.
It’s a little baggy on me, and we nearly didn’t make it out of his bedroom because, yes, it’s true what Caleb says, he definitely has a thing for me wearing his clothes, as in he wants to tear them right off me.
From time to time, Caleb places his weights back in the rack and moves up behind me, adjusting my stance and movements, his hands resting on my shoulders, my hips, or my lower back.
Every touch, as chaste and casual as it is, sends sparks shooting through my body, and more than once I’m about to say fuck it, let’s take this workout to the bedroom!
I feel hot all over, but I push the building arousal back.
I’m already sweating, my joints aching in that familiar way, when lactic acid builds in your muscles.
I’m so out of shape. Caleb continues to throw words of encouragement my way like one more, you’ve got this, and that’s it, and soon I forget about the pain and enter that familiar zone where I’m just high on endorphins, my body working from muscle memory alone.
“Come on.” He pats me on the hip and takes the dumbbells from my hands. Leading me to the bench, he sits me down, then moves to the weights and picks a set that looks just about right. “We’ll go easy today.”
I scoff. “Easy? This is your idea of easy?”
“No pain, no gain, baby.”
“Oh God,” I groan as I drop onto my back on the bench.
He laughs. “What? It’s true. You gotta push through the pain until you reach the zone.”
“Okay, Arnold. Whatever you say.”
He beams at me, eagerness flashing in his eyes. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re gonna be so fucking buff, baby.”
My chest bubbles with laughter. He’s such an idiot, but he’s my idiot. Mine.
“You ready?” He lifts the weight bar and holds it up above me, his arms flexing.
“Yeah.”
I manage to do twenty. If it wasn’t for Caleb encouraging me to do just one more, K.
You’ve got this, I would’ve stopped at fifteen.
There’s just something about the way he believes in me and pushes me beyond what I think I can and can’t do.
He never pushes me past the limit, but he takes me all the way there and stands next to me when I’m about to cave.
When I’m done, I spot him, and he makes these sexy fucking neanderthal grunts that go straight to my dick.
Sweat trails down his temples, and I just want to lick it right off his skin.
His chest ripples with exertion, his nipples pointed, digging through his tank top, and he’s so fucking sexy in that understated boy-next-door way.
Heat emanates off his body, and I’m seconds away from jumping him again.
I’ve never reacted to another person like this before; my body so attuned to his and his every movement.
When Caleb is done with his standard routine that made mine pale in comparison, he lies panting on the bench, one arm slung across his face, his chest heaving.
His white tank top is drenched in sweat, see-through at this point, and I’m so fucking horny, I want to scream.
I move around the bench and come to a stop between his legs.
“Jesus,” he pants, his thighs trembling.
“That hit the spot. Didn’t that just hit the spot, baby?
Burning that bacon right off.” He’s just so fucking adorable.
I place my hands on his thighs and lower myself onto my knees between his legs.
Dark, soft hair covers his thighs, and his muscles flex underneath my touch.
I love body hair. It’s such an incredible turn on.
It’s one of the things I loved most about transitioning: the way hair exploded in places where I didn’t have any before or only a sparse amount.
“What time is it?” Caleb asks.
I turn, looking at the wall clock on the back wall of the garage. “There’s time,” I say, pressing a kiss against his knee.
“Fuck, that’s nice. Time for what, baby?”
I kiss along his thigh, then smile as I blow on his skin, and he squirms, moaning softly.
I dip out my tongue and taste him, saltiness exploding in my mouth.
I can smell his arousal through his loose basketball shorts, and when I look up, I find his length tenting the front.
I reach for him, digging my palm into his groin, then sliding it along his hardness.
Caleb’s hips shoot forward as he grinds against me.
“Oh fuck, K.” His voice is low and guttural, one arm slung around the bench behind his head, the other buried in my hair as I bite his thigh.
“Shit, that feels good,” he pants, thrusting against my hand.
“Can I suck you?” I say, my heart in my throat. This is new for me. I’ve never blown someone before, but my mouth is watering with the need to taste him, to wrap my lips around his hard length and just suck, suck, suck that big cock into my mouth, feeling its heaviness on my tongue.
“Fuck yes!” He stresses the words with two irregular thrusts, and I chuckle against his thigh. Fuck, he wants it. He wants me.
I kiss my way up his thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.
I love the effect I have on him, the way he comes undone beneath me.
The way I can turn Caleb inside out just by touching him, kissing him, or being close to him.
I snake my fingers underneath the soft material of his shorts, teasing the spot where his thigh meets his hip.
Caleb sucks in a breath, his fingers twisting in my hair, and my scalp stings deliciously.
I move my hand closer to his cock, my fingertips connecting with a thick patch of coarse hair, nestling the base.
His balls are tight, heavy with need. It still blows my mind how bold I am with him, despite everything we’ve done so far is uncharted territory.
“Please,” he drawls, his legs shaking. I lean down and mouth the outline of his cock through his shorts.
I bury my face against him and breathe him in, the heady scent of his masculinity surrounding me.
The musky and sweaty undertones. It’s intoxicating, and my own arousal builds and builds as Caleb’s cock grows beneath my lips.
My groin pulses, but instead of worry, nothing but excitement invades my chest and my mind.
I’m so fucking aroused, just like Caleb is right now.
I know he is with the way he moves against me and moans wantonly.
When I ghost my fingers up his length, I’m met with sticky liquid leaking from his swollen cockhead.
“You’re so wet for me, Caleb.”
“Uh-huh.” He pushes the words out, like he’s in pain.
“You’re so wild for me.”
“Yes.”
“Me too. I’m so fucking wild for you too.” Nothing happens. No spell of dysphoria, no underlying panic that I won’t be enough. I laugh against his cock, relief coursing through me. It’s like the past has lost its power over me. “I’m so fucking horny for you.”
“Shit. Please, K. I’m dying here. I need your fucking mouth on me.”