Chapter 4 #2
Diem fused his lips with mine, chasing the cake with his tongue.
I nearly choked with surprise and swallowed the helping too fast, but Diem didn’t stop.
He lapped at the inside of my mouth, wrapping his tongue with mine, and grazing the edges of my teeth.
His scruff bit at my jaw, but I didn’t care.
Cake and Diem.
Heaven.
The heel of his palm connected with the rigid length of my erection as it swelled against the front of my trousers, and I gasped and groaned, pushing back against him.
“Oh, fuck yeah,” I said against his mouth. “Cake porn.”
He chuckled, stroking and squeezing my cock as he licked and sucked my tongue. I wasn’t sure if it was the sugar rush or the increased blood flowing south that made my skin sing and head buzz. Either way, I kissed him back with equal fervor, rutting against his hand.
At one point, he relieved me of the Tupperware—thankfully, I hadn’t dropped it—and set it aside.
With deft skill, he undid my belt, button, and zipper one-handed. He threaded his fingers through the hair at my nape with the other, keeping me against his mouth, delving deeper as though determined to suck every ounce of stolen dessert from within.
He found my bare cock and stroked. The position was uncomfortably awkward—my pants and underwear were in the way and pulled at my sensitive skin when he tried to move them down—but it didn’t dissuade him.
When I whimpered with frustration, bucking and wiggling and trying for a new angle, Diem broke the kiss, bent, and took me down his throat instead.
I cried out as blinding pleasure exploded in my veins.
Game fucking over.
I dug my fingernails into the counter, whining and moaning at the overwhelming sensation of his hot mouth and the fierce suction.
If I had two brain cells to rub together, I might have lowered my pants to give him better access, but whatever discomfort I’d originally felt was gone.
Diem catapulted me to the finish line so fucking fast, I was coming before I knew it. “Oh… oh fuck… me… god, yeeess.”
Diem took me through every pulse before releasing my spent cock with a chuckle. He straightened, licking his kiss-bruised lips and shaking his head. “Like a virgin teenager.”
“You’re a bastard. I would fucking hate you if you hadn’t turned me to jelly. Fuck… that was… unexpected and wonderful.”
He kissed me again. A mix of sweet icing and my release danced pleasantly on his tongue. The kiss ended too soon, and when I reached for Diem, intent on dragging him back against my mouth so I could savor the moment, he stepped out of reach.
“Zip up.”
“Huh?” My head swam. Lust pulsed in my veins. It took a few seconds for Diem to come into focus. When he did, I realized he was still shaking his head, still chuckling, and eating the rest of the cake without me.
“I thought… we were sharing. Wow. I’m lightheaded now.”
Diem scanned my body and plucked another chunk of cake from the container, popping it into his mouth. “You have icing on your shirt and pants.”
I glanced at my outfit. Wrinkled shirt, open trousers, flaccid cock, and several growing stains of more than one variety. “Dammit. These are good clothes. You should have let me finish licking your fingers before fondling me.”
“Am I supposed to apologize?”
“No.”
“Good because I’m not sorry in the least.”
I tucked my oversensitive cock back into my underwear—with difficulty—and zipped. My cheeks felt hot, and I touched them, knowing they must be flaming red.
Diem kept shoveling cake into his mouth, looking like the cat who got the cream. The disquiet from that morning was gone. Thank god. I preferred him like this. Happy and teasing.
“You’re a trickster. I earned that cake fair and square. I can’t believe you bullied it away from me.”
“Giving you a blow job is bullying?”
“It’s distracting. You did that on purpose.”
“Poor you.”
I pouted as he finished every morsel from the container. After one last swipe around its circumference, gathering the leftover cream cheese icing onto his finger, Diem tossed the Tupperware aside and approached with the coated digit on display.
I licked my lips. “Can I suck your finger?”
He narrowed his eyes as though considering.
I wiggled my brows. “Or… I could suck something else.”
A twinkle of humor, but Diem shook his head. “Not right now. Tongue. Stick it out.”
I did as I was told, and Diem dragged the icing-covered finger over its surface before moving in to kiss me again.
It was unrushed that time. He glided his tongue against mine, sucking, savoring, and nipping gently.
For all Diem’s rough edges and brusque personality, he could be surprisingly tender when he wanted to be.
We came apart, and he pressed our foreheads together. “That was delicious. Tell Kitty the cake is a go.”
“I will. Should I mention it was orgasmic? Probably not. She’ll read too much into it. That blow job was seriously hot, by the way, and unexpected. I’m embarrassed at how quickly I came. Who am I kidding? No, I’m not.”
“Kitty will know the truth by the look on your face.”
“I know. I’m doomed.”
Diem pecked my mouth one last time before pulling back. “She’s a witch, Tallus. You said so yourself.”
“It’s scary. One of these days, she’s going to cast a spell on me.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. Let me lock up.”
Cloudy from the orgasm and riding a sugar high, we were halfway home before I thought to ask why Diem was late picking me up.
He mumbled something about a meeting but didn’t elaborate, switching gears and relaying details about the case Benaiah Scarrow had presented that morning.
“We’re chatting with his father at the home tomorrow.”
“Wait. Did you say his father’s name is Elwood?”
Diem slowed behind a bus, checked for traffic over his shoulder, and pulled into the other lane to pass it. “Yeah. Why?”
“I met him on Saturday when we were there. He’s peppy for an old guy. I met him in the event room. He was busy chatting with his three online girlfriends while Aaron gave me a tour.”
Diem made a face. “Girlfriends?”
“Yep. Google kindly directed him to a dating app. Christ, D. The man might be intelligent, but he’s a technological disaster waiting to happen.
He was practically giddy as he chicken-pecked at the laptop.
Someone basically told him the internet was god and had all the answers.
All he had to do was ask, and it would tell him anything he wanted to know. So he asked for a girlfriend.”
Instead of laughing, Diem’s face contorted further. “Benaiah mentioned his father had set up online banking. I didn’t think the residence had computer access, and if they did, aren’t they monitoring it? You said he was on a laptop?”
“Yes. He claimed his grandson gave it to him. I’m not sure anyone is monitoring him, D.”
“The grandson is overseas and hasn’t been home in over eight months.
Grandpa Elwood’s being taken for a ride.
I highly doubt we’re going to get anywhere with this case.
The police have basically filed it under Good Fucking Luck.
These kinds of things get lumped in with the hundreds of others, and the investigation focuses on the bigger picture and not the individual victims. I told Benaiah that, but he insisted we try.
A laptop, huh? We’ll chat with Elwood tomorrow morning.
Make some inquiries, poke around, but I don’t know. I doubt we’ll get anywhere.”
“While we’re there tomorrow, I want to see if Nana has any photo albums in her closet.”
“She doesn’t.”
“I just want to check.”
“I moved her stuff in Tallus. Dad didn’t send her albums.”
“Oh.”
“What do you want them for?”
“Doesn’t matter, I guess. Without pictures, the idea is moot.
” I couldn’t suggest calling his mother to see if she would put photos together for me.
Diem wouldn’t go for it. He had no communication with his parents.
On the rare occasions he ran into Leroy Krause at the nursing home, they went out of their way not to speak to one another.
“You’re making too big a deal over this party. Nana won’t know what’s going on.”
“She doesn’t have to understand. It’s a party. She can dance and eat cake and visit with friends. She deserves a good time, D.”
Diem kept his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t hide the strain pulling at the sides of his eyes. Emotions were hard for him. Instead of responding, he reached across the console and weaved our fingers together, holding my hand for the rest of the ride home.