Page 62 of Catcher's Lock

He tastes like destiny.

I sink my hands into his curls as he lets me explore his mouth, and all the textures of him assault me.This, I think,thisis what kissing is supposed to feel like, this carbonated crush of tongues and teeth and tiny gasps.

My dick aches, ruthless in too-tight jeans, and I needmore, so I trail my hands clumsily down his neck and over his chest, fumbling with the hem of his T-shirt, seeking skin.

“Rocket,” he whispers against my lips. “Wait.”

Reluctantly, I drag myself back and settle on my heels. I leave one hand on his hip, though, because I can’t bear to relinquish the last point of contact.

“I’m tired of waiting,” I tell him, and the truth of it is enormous, beating in my blood. And the tequila is making me brave.

“Wait” isn’t the same as “stop.”

I spread my hand over the crease of his thigh, and my thumb brushes against his cock.

Which. Is. Hard.

His eyes flutter and dip to his lap as his breath leaves him in a soft rush. “I think—”

“Don’t think.” It’s something he’s good at—the not thinking—and tonight I’m willing to help. I curl my fascinated fingers around his erection. Even through the cotton twill of his shorts, I can roll a thumb over the ridge where his head flares from the shaft and feel the pulse of that thick vein under my palm.

And IknowI’m treading dangerous waters. That we’re both too high, too close to almost dying, and that he’s too unsure. I know that taking this now could be the end of us.

But I also knowhimand what he’s really desperate for. And in this surreal, suspended moment, my bloodstream teeming with natural and unnatural chemicals, I’m not above using it to get what I need.

I brace my other hand on the dash and lean in, adding pressure on his cock. “You want to help poor virgin Josha with his sex life? Be what I need tonight. Be the perfect guy with the perfect cock. Pretend with me. Just for a few minutes.Please.” My voice wobbles on the last word, betraying me, but his gaze is locked on my hand in his lap, and his face is slack with desire.

“A few minutes?” Glancing up, he cocks a brow, amusement tingeing the rasp in his voice. “I’m not the virgin here. I think you’re underestimating my stamina.”

I have him.

“Challenge accepted.” I shouldn’t be so cocky. I have no idea what I’m doing, only that my pulse is racing, and he doesn’t stop me when I unbutton his shorts, my fingers rushed and eager.

He doesn’t stop me when I pull him out and take him in my hand, groaning at the shock of satin skin and slippery precum, or when I start to stroke, leaning in to claim his mouth again.

Instead, he spreads his thighs and sucks on my tongue. His hand comes up to grasp my jaw, fingers biting into my cheek, and I can’t stifle the whimper that escapes me.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against mine. “You’re killing me with that mouth of yours.”

My mouth?

I roll my bottom lip between my teeth, humming, and he thrusts into my hand with a low, feral grunt.

“It can do better,” I say.

Shifting back on the seat, I push him against the door with a hand splayed on his abdomen, and he gasps: “Shit, shit, shit.”

But he doesn’t stop me.

His hands are featherlight in my hair, one thumb gently stroking the shell of my ear, but he’s breathing rough and fast, abs tight under my palm, andhe doesn’t stop me. I dip my head and ghost my lips over the sensitive spot beneath his crown before I can chicken out, and when his cock jolts at the light contact, my head swims with a rush of pride. I tease the spot again, this time with the flat of my tongue, and his taste breaks over me like a wave, flooding my senses with salt and silk and urgent, primal lust.

This is happening. I’m going to take Gemiah Farrel’s cock into my mouth and suck it until he comes down my throat. And then I’m going to swallow every drop.

In the interest of not coming in my pants like the last time, I reach between my legs to free my throbbing dick. As soon as I have myself in hand, I squeeze hard, burying my face in the crease of his hip, fighting for control.

C’mon, Garrity. You can fucking multitask.

His cock twitches against my cheek, and I turn my head, gasping the next breath along its length. Lightning fizzes under my skin, coalescing along my spine—like I’ve been numb my whole life until this moment. Like every nerve ending has been asleep and is only now, finally, coming wide awake.