31. Stan
Chapter thirty-one
Stan
“You’re out of control, you know that?” My hand slides down her cheek as her hands continue to make a mess on my legs. I press my thumb to her chin, popping those plush pink lips open. “You secretly get off on —”
“With all due respect, Stan, shut up and put your dick in my mouth.”
I let her finish her sentence. Of course, it had to be something snarky and demanding.
And of course, it works. It always works.
So, I give her what we both know she’s after and shove my cock into her mouth, watching her pretty gray eyes go wide as her lips latch on. Her fingers curl, gripping my quads as they flex beneath her palms.
“Is this what you were after?” I pull out and slide back in. Her tongue swirls around the head before sucking me back in.
She nods, and I let my hands rest on her head. My eyes close, even though I desperately don’t want to stop staring at her.
She looks fucking perfect. Playful and mischievous and covered in pale paint. Demanding my attention, not letting me retreat the way I normally would.
I watch her struggle as she clutches my legs and works my length hungrily. My fingers tangle in her hair, and I smirk down at her. “Had a wet dream about this once. ”
Her eyes heat, and she pulls back just far enough to say, “Oh, yeah?”
I show her by filling her mouth almost all the way. “I bet you can’t take the whole thing.”
Challenge flashes in her eyes.
“Bet you’ll tap out before I can fuck your throat the way I did in that dream.”
She tilts her head back and opens her mouth wider, and I don’t overthink it for once. I fist her hair and slide myself inside. Tight lips. Hot mouth.
She swallows when I hit the back of her throat, as if trying to make room for all of me.
“Too much?” I ask with a little curl to my lips, knowing it will piss her off.
She pushes forward, taking more, making a light gagging noise as she does.
“Yeah, too much,” I sigh. “Knew it would be.”
She lets out a deep humming noise around my cock, and I watch her reach down into the paint. She holds that hand up and shakes it out over the floors, splattering light blue into the open space in the middle.
A dark laugh bubbles up inside me. “Stubborn little Sam,” I growl as I slide out and back in, a little harder this time.
I continue the motion, not giving her a chance to catch her breath. Until I’m close to coming.
She pulls off with a wet, popping noise, and I wrap a fist around my cock and groan as I rest the tip against her lips and let each shot paint her tongue white.
I’m winded, watching raptly, and she stays just like that, looking so fucking good. I feel like I could bust all over again. Her wide eyes stay locked with mine. She’s watching me like I’m everything to her.
It’s intoxicating.
I rub the head of my cock over her parted lips one last time, smooth my hand back over her hair, and say, “Swallow.”
Her lips close, and I watch her throat work as she does. Her tongue darts out over her lips like she’s searching for more before she lets out a quiet, “Mmm. That was a good dream.”
I shake my head in disbelief at what just went down between us. Afraid to hope that it might happen again.
It feels… too good to be true.
I guess that’s why I drop to my knees, gather her against me—paint be damned—and kiss her like my life depends on it. To convince myself that this thing with her might actually be.
“You have a lot of balls to face me,” Lucas says.
“Only because you can’t take them all,” I reply gamely.
“Good one,” he says, pulling out his phone to write it down. “We’ll use this at the next game with the boys.”
It's afternoon. We’re at Larry’s bar.
Earlier, I marched to Lucas’s place and asked him to play pool with me. It was out of character for me, he knew that. But he just agreed to come, no questions asked.
It’s one of the few things about him that doesn’t annoy me. He’s a musclehead with no brains who still puts others’ needs before his own.
“Noticed a bonfire yesterday,” he says as he pockets a ball.
“Yeah. My parents are around,” I say.
He looks up at me, his expression knit with worry. “They’ve seen Ruth?”
“Yeah.”
“How did it go?”
“She loves them, and they love her,” I say with a warm smile.
He lets out a relieved sigh. “Thought you called me out to tell me you were disowned.” He misses his shot. “I'd have had to talk to my father to adopt you.”
“I appreciate the offer and will hold you to it,” I reply with a smile as I try to pocket the next ball, but I miss.
“You're shit,” he laughs, taking his position .
I didn't bring him to play pool.
I want to tell him about her . About us. I don't like hiding around with Sam.
I realize I don't care if he beats me up. I won't fight back. But there are people here to stop him.
Then again, Ray is the only one strong enough to stop Lucas, but he’s not here. A brawler like Lucas has once taken on a 7 vs. 1 and came out on top.
Fatherhood hasn't dulled his senses.
I put the stick down as he misses his shot. He stares at me, then puts his down as well. He crosses his arms.
For some reason, the bar falls silent. It's way too silent, and even Larry approaches us. He stays at a distance, hoping a fight won't break out.
I take in a deep breath. “I'm sleeping with Samantha. I'm in love with her.”
There. I said it.
“Oh? Good for you, you finally did it,” Lucas says, picking up my stick. I brace myself, thinking he's going to hit me, but he just gives the stick to me. “Your turn.”
“Huh?” I blink at him. “I said I'm…”
“Sleeping with Sam? And you're in love with her? Yeah. I know.”
“I don't understand,” I admit. “I was worried, and I couldn't hide it. You can hit me. I know you're disappointed.”
“Pause. Why would I be disappointed that you're in love with someone you've had a crush on for years?” He asks the question like I'm crazy.
“You knew?”
“Who didn't? Even Alex knows, and he's a kid.”
I look around, and Larry gives me a thumbs-up. “Congrats,” he says.
I can't believe it.
“You playing or not?” Lucas asks.
“I was… I was worried for nothing?” I can't help but laugh at how stupid I am.
“Yes. You were and still are,” he answers.
“I thought you were going to hit me,” I admit .
“Oh, I am,” he says. Without warning, he throws a punch at my gut.
“The fuck?” I glare at him.
“I just remembered you punched me and threw me around when I was indecisive about Selena. I've been wanting revenge,” he explains with a grin. “Don't get me wrong. I'm happy you're with my cousin. And I know you'll treat her well. I'm only beating your ass because you took too long. Now get up and put up your fist.”
Just like that, I forgot what a meathead he is.
“Alright. I won't go easy on you just because you're a father,” I say as I raise my fists.
“You’re a father, too. Come at me.”
And we go for it.
Before we know it, bystanders get caught up in the fray, and the bar erupts into an all-out brawl.