Page 10 of Dean (Unexpected #9)

DEAN

I definitely shouldn’t have told him to wear the skirt. I didn’t realize those legs would look so good. Oh, fuck, those legs. They look really nice today.

Really fucking good.

And after last night. Shit. I should be ashamed of myself because after I hid in my room, I lay in bed and touched my cock.

I edged myself to thoughts of him. But I never came.

Fuck, why does he pull this out of me? Why do I feel this kind of need when he’s around? It’s just been growing. Every hour. Every minute. Despite trying and failing to explain it, to reason with my brain, my body wants what it wants.

My mind goes to his legs this morning in the car, crossed delicately as he texted on his phone.

He was texting Beau, he said.

I barely made that out because his legs were there, so long and smooth and toned.

My head knocks against the hood of a car as I stand up too quickly, and Ford glances over at me, probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

Well, Ford. I’m just distracted by my employee who lives with me…and wears my jersey to bed.

My mind shifts again and I wonder what’s under the skirt he’s wearing. Last night, I knew he was naked under that jersey. I could feel it—could feel his bare ass cheeks in my hands.

Why the hell is he so tempting? What is it about him?

But fuck, Avery is so…he’s so alluring.

Maybe Ford is right. Maybe sometimes things just change. His long, smooth hair and the shape of his body, all lithe and soft. He’s so damn pretty. All the goddamn time. I can’t keep my hands off him. I find reasons to touch him. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to stop. I definitely don’t want to stop.

“Just tired,” I say because I am. I barely slept last night, my dick aching between my legs. But like I said, I didn’t get off.

How damn inappropriate would that be? He’s my son’s age. He’s vulnerable and homeless at the moment. He just opened up to me and shared how he was assaulted, and there I was, trying not to tug on my dick like a horny teen.

It’s why I ran off, why I dumped him on the sofa and split. I needed a minute to breathe, to think rationally.

“Is it ’cause Avery is wearing that skirt?” Ford asks softly, his dark eyes meeting mine.

My best fucking friend looks so damn confused. Well, welcome to the club. I am too. I had no idea he was into skirts and makeup until recently.

“He likes what he likes,” I say, and Ford shrugs.

“It’s cool. He looks good in it.”

My brows meet and I glower at him. “Don’t be lookin’ at him, man. Seriously.”

Ford grins. “Ha. Knew it…”

My cheeks flush, and I set my tools down, moving away from him so quickly that I knock my hand against the fender. Shit, that hurts. I’ll end up dead by the end of the day if I keep this up. I really need life insurance if Avery is going to walk around here looking so pretty .

“Better figure this out before you end up killing yourself,” Ford says very unhelpfully, and I scowl at him.

“You could look at porn. That helped me figure out I’m bi.”

I eye him, taking that little nugget and placing it in my pocket. But then everything is forgotten when Avery walks out, that fucking skirt skimming his thighs, those boots on up to his ankles, that tight crop top.

Fuck, he’s so damn…hot. I mean, he was before all of this when he wore baggy pants and overalls, but now, with those smooth legs showing and that midriff…

It’s all a little too much.

I can’t fucking concentrate.

“Uh, Dean, I have Angry Myrtle on the phone. Wanna come save the day, big man?”

I clear my throat as I nod, following him up the stairs—which is a total mistake because that ass is right in front of me, looking far too good. He’s said nothing about last night and neither have I.

We’re both pretending it didn’t happen.

If only my mind could pretend it didn’t. Because right now, I’m wondering what I’ll find underneath if I slip the fabric up. Is he wearing lacy panties like he did that night in my bed? And if so, what color are they?

I nearly run into the doorjamb and then fumble so badly with the phone that I actually hang up on Myrtle in the process. She is not going to be happy about that.

“What is wrong with you?” Avery asks, his face concerned.

“Nothin’,” I say, and Avery takes a step toward me. He always smells so damn good. I noticed this about him even before I noticed his legs. He always smells like cake. Like fucking dessert. It’s one of the reasons I hired him in the first place. He was great at organizing my work life and he smelled ridiculously good.

I needed a little dessert in my life at the time, I suppose.

And now I’m fucked. Shouldn’t have been such a glutton.

“Are you having a stroke or some kind of medical emergency? Because you have been running into shit downstairs and almost killing yourself. Plus, you just hung up on grumpy old Myrtle. ”

“Myrtle is a bitch,” I say, and Avery cocks his head, those French braids he’s rocking looking far too nice.

Hell, I could pull them real easily.

“Just distracted is all,” I say, and Avery’s eyebrows pinch, his pink lips puckered.

“You’re never too distracted to work. Is it because of what I told you last night?”

Yeah, well, I wasn’t before I met you , I think as I fiddle with a pencil holder.

“No,” I answer and then clamp my mouth shut.

Avery arches an eyebrow at me, and my dick twitches in my pants. It’s been doing that all damn day. I really need to give it a good, stern talking to. My hand shoots out in some kind of twitch and I knock the holder over. Pencils and pens tumble to the floor, and Avery eyes me for a moment before leaning over, almost folded in half to pick them up.

And I almost expire on the spot.

Oh my fuck.

Oh my fucking fuck.

A wheeze escapes my throat, and I clench my fists at my sides because I want to reach out to him and put myself out of my fucking misery. Why is he like this? Why am I? Why now? I’m too fucking old for this, and yet I’m doing it anyway.

“You okay?” Avery asks, turning his head to peek around his legs. Why is he still bent over like that? How long does it take to pick up some damn pencils? Does he know what he does to me? Is he teasing me? “Why are you breathing like that?”

He stands up, and I can’t take it anymore. I move toward him, stepping into his space.

Avery’s eyes widen as he stumbles back, his ass on the edge of the desk, his hands still clutching those damn pencils. And all I do is hover over him.

“Dean,” he breathes, and the sound of my name on his lips is causing my libido to go out of control. My dick is aching . It’s like last night .

The things his body against mine did to me. And he didn’t even move. He just sat on my lap and it made me wild .

“This fucking skirt,” I say gruffly, and I watch as Avery’s cheeks flush. “This damn tiny shirt.”

He blinks up at me, and oh my god, I want to spin him around and bend him over. I want to spread his cheeks and slide my cock right inside of his tight little hole.

Oh fuck, I want that.

I never ever thought I’d say that, but fuck, I want to try it. I want him to let me try.

“This is so inappropriate,” I murmur, and Avery’s cheeks darken.

“Dean, seriously? You said it was fine,” he bites out. “You said you didn’t have a problem with it.”

He’s growing angry, his beautiful gray eyes filling with tears, and I swallow roughly, realizing how my words could be misconstrued. Oh, I’m fucking it all up. I’m making him hate me.

“I’ll go home and change,” he mutters, his voice a little broken, but before he can step around me, I reach out and grab his hips.

I stifle a groan in my throat. Oh fuck, he feels good .

“You don’t understand,” I begin but I’m cut off by Avery’s biting words.

“I understand men like you perfectly. I thought you were different. You said all the right things, but you’re just the fucking same.”

The accusation does me in. I spin him around and press my body into his back, my hard cock shoved right against his ass, right where it wants to be.

“You don’t fucking understand,” I growl lowly, and Avery lets out a shaky breath.

Oh yes, he gets it now. He fucking gets it.

My hands clench against his hips as I rock into him, just once, and Avery whimpers.

Oh god, this is sexual harassment. What the fuck am I doing? I can’t do this.

I take a step back and run a hand over my face, trying to catch my breath, trying to steady my thumping heart.

Avery looks over his shoulder at me, a question in his eyes. His hands are splayed across the desk, his ass jutting out, and I just stare at him.

He wets his lips, his pupils dilating.

And then he spreads his legs and leans down on his elbows, arching his back and thrusting his ass toward me.

Oh fuck. Fuuuuuuck.

It’s an invitation. He’s inviting me to get up close and personal with his ass, and I want to.

I want to meet it.

Without a second thought, I take a step toward him and another until I’m right behind him, my hand reaching out and sliding up the outside of his leg. Fuck, why is he so soft?

He has to shave or wax. Oh hell. He’s just as smooth everywhere else, I’m sure. I felt some of him last night. It’s seared into my brain.

My fingers clutch the hem of his skirt, and I inch it up, up, up . I can hear his breath rasping from his lungs, and I wonder if this is what he sounds like when he’s getting fucked. Does he sound this wrecked? He said he was a screamer. He told Ben one time, I overheard it. Can I get him to scream for me? Would he scream my name?

His body is trembling slightly and mine is too. This is so far past inappropriate, I don’t know what to do. I want to peel him out of his clothes, drop to my knees, and lick my way up his crack. I have never in my life wanted to do that, and yet here I am, envisioning it, in detail.

I’d do everything to him, if he let me.

He’s driving me crazy. I’ve gone completely insane.

“Dean,” he whispers as my fingers travel across his thigh, toward the front of him—toward his dick.

I want to touch it. I want to feel that stiff cock in my hand.

I want to hear him moan.

Suddenly, the office door opens and my son steps through, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene before him—Avery bent over, my crotch pressed firmly against his ass, my hand up the front of his skirt.

“Oh. Shit,” he says and then he stumbles backward, shutting the door quickly, leaving me and Avery just standing there in shocked silence .

“Fuck,” he murmurs, and I take a step back, needing to give him space. My hand falls from his body and I stuff it into my pocket.

He stands up, his skirt falling back in place, and I just stare at him. He’s so damn tempting. I haven’t been this obsessed with someone since my late wife. And even then, it wasn’t to this level.

Why am I so enamored with him? And why aren’t I freaking out more that he’s a man?

Probably because it isn’t as big of a deal as you’re making it and you already came to terms with it.

“I should go talk to him,” I say, and Avery nods and swallows warily. I don’t know what else to say.

What the fuck do I say?

“You should and please tell him I’m sorry he saw that. I don’t want Ben to hate me.”

“He’d never.”

He worries his bottom lip.

“Can we talk when we get home? Or maybe on the car ride there?” I ask.

He nods again, his eyes wide, his cock pressed out against the fabric of his skirt. I can’t peel my eyes away.

I have never in my life wanted another man, and now I can’t stop thinking about it—about what it would be like. Maybe the mental breakdown will come later, but I realize this has been slowly building for months.

I have wanted Avery since he first walked into my office. I just didn’t realize it at the time.

I sure as fuck realize it now.

“Right,” I say, clearing my throat and adjusting myself before turning on my heel awkwardly and stomping from the room. I need to find Ben and explain.

He’s probably so damn confused. I’ve never given him any indication that I had a thing for men. And maybe I don’t, maybe it’s just Avery. I’m not sure other men do it for me. But Avery is definitely my type.

I find my son standing outside, his phone held in his hand, his eyes blinking out toward the busy street. He looks uncomfortable, not that I blame him. What he walked in on was…it was not something he should have seen.

“Hey,” I say, shifting next to him, side-eyeing him in awkward silence.

“Hey,” he says and then shakes his head with a sigh. “Dad, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to walk in on…whatever that was.”

I don’t know what that was either, but here we are.

I run a hand over my face and eye him again. He must be so damn perplexed.

What must he be feeling? God, I can’t even begin to fathom it.

“I didn’t know you um…” He waves his hand in front of him and then blushes. Hell, I’m blushing too.

“Me either.”

He bobs his head, looking down at his phone, obviously distracted. Maybe he won’t even remember this conversation. Maybe he won’t even remember that this happened. “Cool.”

We stand there in awkward silence, and Ben clears his throat. “Um, well, I like Avery. He’s really nice.”

“He is.”

“Well, I’m glad you have someone. It’s been years since you’ve been into anyone…years since Mom.”

“Yeah. But it was okay. I had a son to raise,” I say, and Ben bobs his head, and then he reaches over and pulls me into an awkward side hug. I pat his back, and then Ben pulls away and shoots a thumb over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna go back inside. Good talk.”

Just as he turns to leave, Ford comes out, his dark gaze on my son before it snaps to me.

“Everything okay here?” he asks, and I nod my head.

Ben flushes an even darker shade of red and moves past him, stumbling inside the garage.

“What’s that about?” I ask my best friend, and Ford just shrugs his shoulders, averting his eyes.

Obviously, something is going on, but I don’t have time to deal with it right now. Ben is an adult and whatever he’s gotten himself into, he can get out of. If he needs me, he knows he can always come talk to me. Not that I’m much of a talker, but I’ll always support my son.

He’s the best thing about me and Elaine.

Like I told Avery before, I can see her in his face, in the way he smiles and laughs. He inherited all the best parts of her.

I follow my son back inside and glance up toward the door where Avery is, but I don’t go to him, despite wanting to. Instead, I just head back to the car I was working on before all this shit went down and get back to work.

I’ll talk with him after the shop closes. We can figure this out.

The walk to the car is silent, as if both of us are waiting for the other to say something first. When the two of us settle into the cab, Avery fiddles with the hem of his skirt and peers out the side window, wordless.

I swallow nervously, turning the key in the ignition and listening to the rough rumble beneath my feet.

“We should really talk about it,” I finally say, and Avery nods.

“We totally should.”

But we don’t. We just stare at everything but each other as we ride down the road. When we finally arrive at my place, Avery slips out of the car before I even put it in Park and rushes inside.

“Fuck,” I murmur and follow him in. When I enter, I see that he’s at the fridge, his hands fluttering around inside. He’s probably trying to distract himself by making dinner.

“Avery,” I say, and he peers over at me, his cheeks flushed, eyes slightly watery. I step closer to him, our shoes bumping. I can smell him, the very scent of Avery.

He peers everywhere but me, blinking furiously. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have like…offered myself up. It was wrong of me. I feel so stupid. And Ben, he must hate me. God, you’re his dad…”

I’m silent for a moment, words unable to come. But when they do, they’re meaningful. “But…I wanted to touch you. It’s me who should be apologizing. And Ben doesn’t care. He likes you. ”

His mouth opens and then closes. “Wait. What ?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not sure I did.”

“Which part did you miss?”

“All of it.”

“Okay, well Ben doesn’t mind it, he’s fine, and…I said I wanted to touch you.”

His cheeks pinken. “You’re not shitting me?”

“No.” My finger meets the end of his skirt and I fiddle with the fabric there.

His breath hitches. “Oh.”

“I know. Oh . I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” I murmur. “I’m so fucking confused.”

“Oh. Oh my god .” His eyes are wide, his cheeks flushing an even darker red.

“Yeah.”

“Do you mean it?” he whispers.

“Yeah. Think I do.”

Our eyes meet and that watery gaze is replaced with a dark one, something feral.

“Just so you know, so there’s never any question…you can touch me anytime.”

My fingers slip under his skirt, touching the smooth, warm skin of his thigh. His breath hitches, and he swallows roughly.

“Anytime?”

“Mhm.”

He wets his lips and my eyes track it. I want to lean forward and taste him. I want to kiss a man for the first time in my life. I want to devour him.

“I can…I can turn around, if that would be easier.”

My brows meet, confusion muddling my brain.

“Why the fuck would I want that?” He shrugs, and I move even closer. “Why Avery?”

“Because I’m a man and it might be easier for you if you didn’t…I don’t know… ”

My hand moves up to cup the back of his neck and my other hand, the one on his thigh slides up even further, cupping his bare hip.

“I knew it. Knew you have nothing on under here.”

“Dean,” Avery whispers, and I press my forehead to his, trying to behave, trying like hell not to just pick him up and maul him.

I haven’t felt this kind of primal need in…well, ever.

Our breath mingles and his hands move up, clasping my shoulders.

“I know you’re a man, Avery.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Can I…” I begin, and he nods.

“Yes. Please. Please .”

My fingers spread and slip to his ass, cupping the bare cheek in my hand. He groans, setting off a chain reaction. My hips press into him, his hard cock pressing against my abdomen as he arches up. My body trembles as my dick rubs against his, a low groan slipping from my mouth.

Well, fuck.

Fuck, this feels good.

His face presses to my shoulder and mine moves to his neck, the two of us standing there, in the middle of the kitchen, rutting up against each other like horny teenagers. And that’s what I feel like. A horny teen. I want this so badly. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And I haven’t felt this way in ages.

In twenty years, at least.

His hands have moved to my ass, pulling me down into him with each forward thrust. His skirt is bunched up around his waist, baring him to me, his ass, his cock. Everything is just there .

Hands grope and cling, nails dig into flesh, and breath hits skin until we’re both sweating and panting.

A broken moan slips from Avery’s mouth, his body shaking with release as I feel wetness soak through my pants.

Oh shit. He came. He came against me.

And the crazy thing is…I don’t mind it. Not at all.

I want him to do that again. I want to watch him come, want to feel his body tremble against mine as I hold on to him .

My hands clasp him to me as he slowly comes down from the swell of his orgasm.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, finally pulling away from me. His cheeks are red, his pupils blown out. “I just came all over you.”

“Yeah. You did.”

He looks mortified. “I’m so sorry.”

My hands, still on his ass, tighten. “No.”

“No?”

“Don’t apologize.”

He glances down at where our bodies are still connected, eyeing my bulge. “Oh. Oh .”

“Seems you’re unable to speak, Avery. Usually you don’t stop.”

“I know. You made me come all my words out of my dick.”

“You house all your words in your cock?”

He huffs a small laugh. “Apparently.”

He steps back and then reaches for a kitchen towel. “Let me clean you up.”

I shouldn’t let him do this, but I do. His hand moves across my stiff length, making it twitch against his fingers. He’s taking raspy, shaky breaths as he peers up at me.

“Are you going to be okay? I mean, are you okay with what just happened?”

“I’ve been through a lot and I’ve been okay for years, Avery. I’m sure this won’t make much of a difference.”

That’s a lie. For years, I’ve just been existing. And I ache. I want more. I think I want it all. But I don’t know what I’m doing. I need to do some research, I think. I need to know how to please a man.

“No difference at all?”

“Just that…you know, it seems I may want a man after all.”

He peers up at me through those long lashes and nods.

“Seems you do.”

“Yeah.”

His hand lands on my chest, right near my thudding heart.

“I’ll go change,” I say, and Avery bites his bottom lip.

“I can help you, if you want.”

“I can change all by myself. I’m a big boy. ”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I mean…I can get you off, Dean. If that’s what you want.”

I freeze, my hand on the hem of my shirt, my heart thundering so loud I can hear it in my ears.

“If you want me to, that is.”

He looks so unsure, as if I’m going to turn him down. As if everything hinges on my answer.

I let out a long exhale, not sure what to say. “If we do this, Avery, there’s no going back.”

“I don’t think I want to. Go back that is.”

I take a step forward, my fingers on the button of my jeans, ready to open myself up to him, to lay myself bare. But before I can take anything off, before I can relieve the ache inside of me, the doorbell rings.

It’s an annoying, bitter thing.

“I swear to god,” Avery mutters. “If that is a solicitor, I will cut them into bits and bury them in the backyard.”

“No one is cutting anyone to bits,” I murmur and then tug my shirt off, hoping to cover some of the mess he made from whoever is at the door.

“You know, we don’t need to answer that. We can just pretend no one is home.”

“Yeah, or we could answer it and tell them to fuck off.”

“Hmph, fine, old man. We can answer the damn door.”

I can’t help but laugh at how absurd he is as I pull the door open, seeing a young man standing on the other side, a clipboard in his hand, his red hair a wild mess, his cheeks pink from the chill in the air. “Hi! So glad you answered the door! I was wondering if you were interested in solar.”

Avery groans in frustration. “No. No one wants solar. And honestly, did you trek all the way up this driveway to ask this? I mean that’s like half a mile at least.”

The guy shrinks back and bobs his head. “Um. Yes? I mean, I don’t mind walking. It’s good for my heart.”

I peer over at Avery and bite my lip to keep from chuckling. I don’t say a word. I want to see what he does .

“Well, you really shouldn’t have bothered, heart or no. We don’t want solar. Right, Dean? And honestly, is that even a thing these days…the way the electric companies are robbing us blind? We might as well just sell our souls to the devil.”

“Avery,” I say lowly. “It’s fine to let him give his spiel.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” the man says, looking slightly ashamed. “I was just trying to do my job. I’m just…you know, times are tough…like the economy is bad and inflation…have you seen the price of eggs?”

Avery sags and sighs, realizing how rude he’s being. “Shit, you’re right. I’m sorry. Egg prices are atrocious. All of this was so rude of me. You know what? Come on in, solar man. We have beer. You want a beer? I was just going to make dinner.”

The guy perks up slightly. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice. If you don’t mind. I haven’t eaten all day.” As if on cue, his stomach rumbles.

“Oh, you sound famished.” Avery pushes the door open a little wider. “Dean has a fire pit out back. We could sit there and chat. Kill some time. Talk about saving the Earth. With solar panels.”

“Okay, yeah. That sounds nice. If you don’t mind.” He looks overjoyed, as if this is the best thing that has happened to him all year.

Fuck, I can’t ruin it for him.

He’s delighted.

“Avery,” I murmur, trying to get him to change his mind because I wanted him to be nicer to the dude, not invite him in. But he’s already moving into the kitchen, the guy following behind, the two of them chattering like old friends. But this is how Avery is. He has this ability to lure unsuspecting people in. They don’t know what’s happening, but he wins them over.