27. Indiana
TWENTY-SEVEN
INDIANA
Four weeks ago the bar was still a run-down, dusty mess, but as I stand in the center of it listening to Oakley explain the finishing touches, my chest swells with excitement and pride. I think we’re gonna pull this off.
“Excellent,” Lowen says, checking off boxes on his clipboard. “The furniture is being delivered in two days.”
“That works,” Oakley says, his eyes lingering on my glamorous friend. “The inspector is coming today at three for a final walk through on the kitchen, but we’ve passed everything else.”
“The patio guys are coming on Friday,” Jerryn says. “They’ll string the lights.”
“And the landscaping company is coming that day too,” Bane adds. “They had the best price on the potted plants Lowen liked.”
Lowen drags his pen down his paper. “What else?”
“The POS computers are being installed Monday,” Ridley says, “with a quick training meeting at two.”
“The office is set up and the inventory system is ready to go,” Salem says, leaning against a column .
He’s become Lowen’s right hand, his Mini Me, essentially, and taken a lot off his plate so he could focus on the house too. When Salem glances at me, my core heats and I remember last night and the way he rode my face like both our lives depended on it. I’ve never been so happy not being able to breathe.
I wink at him, amused as his cheeks turn pink. We’ve spent nearly every night together for weeks now. I’ve convinced myself it’s because the dorm style frat life back at the house isn’t my vibe, but part of me knows that’s bullshit. I can’t get enough of Salem. I don’t want to get enough of him.
The guys don’t even bother to give me shit anymore, simply accepting his constant presence in my life, from work to dinner to evenings spent wrapped around his warm body. It’s the closest thing to a relationship I’ve ever had, with one major exception.
We don’t talk.
About anything.
Other than the day’s events, it’s all very superficial still, and I can’t deny that my curiosity about him is building. I want to know things about him, and while I’m totally satisfied with our sex life, I want to explore even more with him. I just don’t know how to bring it up. The last thing I want is to ruin a good thing.
“Did you hear that, Indy?”
I blink, turning to look at Lowen, aware of the snickering coming from my friends. “Uh, no. Sorry.”
Salem fights back a grin, while Lowen looks truly exasperated.
“Ridley suggested we have a barbecue at the house and invite Wren so we can do a little teambuilding,” he says.
“Yeah, fine.”
“And the idea to do the soft opening for the other businesses in the area,” Kit adds. “We’ve talked about that, but we’re getting close to finishing now so maybe we should set a date?”
“Do you think we’ll be ready in three more weeks, Oakley?” Lowen asks.
“Definitely. Once the inspection is done, we can finish the painting and final touches. I’ve never failed an inspection, so I’m not worried about it.”
Oakley’s voice dips and Lowen clears his throat, dragging his eyes back to the clipboard.
“Perfect,” he says, but his voice trembles just slightly, enough that I’m sure only me and the guys notice.
Kit bumps my arm with his in acknowledgment and I fight back a chuckle.
“Sounds like we’re on track then,” Lowen says before flitting off.
“Think they’ll hook up?” Salem asks me as the meeting ends.
“Not sure. Lowen’s guard is pretty high.”
“Relatable. Speaking of hooking up… You coming over tonight?”
“Am I invited?”
“Standing invite, handsome.”
I gaze into his eyes for a moment as words I won’t say fill my head. “Then count on it, sweet thing.”
Standing in the shower with the water as hot as I can stand it, I try to shake off the intense need I have to get my hands on Salem again. Last night was incredible, but the memory of his taste and how soft his skin is and those gorgeous fucking moans of his haunted my dreams to the point where I woke up with my dick so hard I could hammer nails with it .
I stroke my cock, hoping for relief, but it’s as if there’s an itch inside of me somewhere I can’t reach. Not for the first time, I have a sense of what it could be, and this time I’m giving in to it. Now that we actually have our own bathrooms back, I have enough privacy to pull this off.
With a deep exhale, I lift my leg onto the built-in ledge and bend over enough to reach between my legs. It’s been years since I touched this part of myself other than to wash, but I’m so horned up right now I’ll do anything to relieve it, even finger myself.
My fingers are slightly slick with bodywash, which might burn, but I try anyway, prodding my hole with the tip of my finger. The more I push, the more desperate I feel. I rinse my hand and squeeze the head of my cock instead, getting just enough precum on my fingers to try again.
I do it again, breaching my body with a deep moan. With my eyes closed, I imagine Salem between my legs, ready to undo me in a way no one else ever has. I can’t get my finger in as far as I want, so I shut the water off and pad to my bed. I’m dripping wet, but I’m on a mission.
I open the nightstand and grab the lube, slicking my fingers and climbing on the bed on my knees. When that doesn’t feel good, I roll onto my back and put my legs up, finally sinking my finger inside my hole.
It burns like crazy, but the stretch does something to me that’s kind of addictive. The intense need in my gut only builds the braver I get, and within minutes, I manage a second finger. It’s an awkward position, but it’s working for me, so I keep it up, fucking myself as images of Salem run through my mind.
My orgasm builds, creating a tight ball of heat in my core, and when it finally explodes, I see fireworks. Electricity shoots down my spine and across my skin, and the room spins. Cum shoots from my cock like a geyser, and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from shouting.
As I come down, my breathing ragged and my hole clenching around my fingers, I’m left stunned. I’ve never liked having anything in my ass, but something has shifted. Could I ask Salem to fuck me?
A shiver runs through me at just the thought, and my cock jerks with one last valiant effort. I came untouched while I finger fucked myself. Wow.
I pull my fingers out and wipe them on the sheets. I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I grab my phone and take a picture of my cum covered torso, shooting off a text to Salem.
Me: You did this.
A few seconds later, he sends back three fire emojis. Then another text comes through.
Salem: My mouth is watering. Wish I was there to clean you up.
Me: Me too. See you soon?
Salem: I’ll be there.
Me: Do you want your usual? I’m swinging by the coffee shop.
Salem: Mmm, yes, please.
I can hear him saying such a simple line, but dripping with decadence. I’m addicted to bringing him his favorite breakfast—a cranberry cream cheese tart and a salted caramel latte—and I find myself bringing it in for him even when I don’t want anything for myself. The sweet look on his face is worth it.