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CHAPTER SIX
JORGE
“So? How was it?” Layla asks with eager curiosity.
The sun pours over her terrace, casting a warm glow across the space as I sit back in my seat. I take a sip of my caramel-flavored iced coffee, which does little to dull the heat still lingering in my chest from last night. Which is only rekindling with her question. I’ve never been shy about sharing my sexual escapades. Especially not with Layla. She knows my history—every sordid fling and disappointing encounter. But last night wasn’t like any of those. Not even close . And I don’t know how to explain it to her.
After setting my glass on the table between us, I run a hand through my hair and try to find the words I’m seeking. “It… It wasn’t like that .”
“You mean… You didn’t?” Layla leans forward with a surprised expression— because I’m man whore— and props her elbows on the table. “You didn’t fuck him? Now I’m fucking intrigued.”
I chuckle softly, a grin spreading across my face. “I would have,” I confess. Fuck, would I have . He could’ve asked anything of me and I would’ve done it without hesitation. “I mean, it’s Rory . And just… He’s not like what I expected… at all.”
Looking like she’s about to die from the suspense, she cocks a brow and insists. “Details. Seriously. All of them. What happened?”
I’m still trying to figure that out myself.
“So…” I begin, taking a deep breath and stammer through my word vomit. “When we got into the room, I thought he’d bid on me just to be nice. So, I didn’t look bad after Conor. I thought he was being sweet. But that wasn’t it. He actually bought me. He wanted me. Once I knew he actually wanted me, I figured it would be like any other one-night stand. A little flirting. Some awkward fumbling. A little foreplay and then we’d just get down to it. But it wasn’t like that.”
Layla hangs on my every word, practically vibrating in anticipation as I walk her through what happened next—removing my clothes and dropping to my knees. She bites her bottom lip, clearly expecting me to finally spill the juicy details.
“He just stood there. So fucking intense,” I continue, my voice low as I recall the moment so vividly I can practically feel Rory looming over me. “Then he gripped my jaw—like, really firmly—and forced me to stare into his eyes. I swear it felt like time froze and he was staring into my soul.”
Goosebumps prickle down my spine at the thought, and I rub my hand reminiscently over the stubble on my jaw where he’d tightly held it last night. “His thumb dragged over my lower lip and he said something like, ‘As much as I want to… Not tonight. If you want my cock to pass over these soft lips of yours, you’re going to be a good boy for me and learn to be patient. When you show me you can do that, I’ll collect my winnings.’”
Layla gasps, her mouth hanging open in shock. “He just left?”
“Yup.” I nod. “He just… left. With me shirtless and on my knees with my cock so hard it was ready to tear through my dress slacks. I mean, who does that? Seriously, sweetie… I was so fucking hard, I had to… relieve myself , twice , before I could even think about walking out of that room.”
“Gross, Jorge.” Layla laughs, sitting back in her seat and taking a long sip of her own iced coffee.
“What?” I toss my hands up and shrug. “Was I just supposed to walk through the club with it tucked into my waistband like I’m back in junior high?”
“Boys don’t actually do that.” Layla sighs. Like she’s ever had a penis with a brain of its own.
“Every single time I saw Bradley Harper, captain of the football team,” I sincerely insist. “Listen, at fourteen, we have zero control of that thing.”
She laughs, slightly disturbed at my confession, and settles back into her seat. “So, now what? You just sit here and wait for him to decide you’re being a good boy—which you aren’t capable of—so he can fuck you?”
“I guess?” I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
Part of me wants to just call it quits and forget he has been added to my list of strange sexual encounters—the hot one and the weirdo one. But he got under my skin, and I can’t stop thinking about the short time we spent in that room. I’ve never been treated like that before.
And fuck, did I ever like it.