Page 10

Beau

Not much was accomplished over the weekend—not unless you count emptying ourselves until we were on the verge of dehydration. Insatiable doesn’t even begin to describe the frenzy we fell into, and not a single surface in my house was safe. I had Azrael every way I could imagine him.

Spread out on the countertop, kneeling between my knees on the couch, pressed against the door, bent over the dining room table, and even in my lap on top of a hay bale in the woods. Itchy legs were a small price to pay for the look of pure bliss on his face as his shouts echoed through the trees.

I’m drained.

Literally .

This inexplicable pull to him is all-consuming—a magnetism that steals my breath right from my lungs and leaves me weak-kneed. I’ve never experienced anything like it before.

Never needed someone.

Each carefully revealed piece of Azrael leaves me hungry for more. He’s holding back; that much is painfully obvious. There’s more hiding underneath his surface, and I’m biding my time, waiting for him to trust me enough to let me see it. I want to unearth those hidden corners and discover every detail about him—peel back the layers until it’s all laid bare in front of me.

I want to know his favorite foods so I can learn how to make them.

His worst memories so I can replace them with better ones.

Hell, I’m more interested in what brand of socks he wears than I am in what’s happening in the world, and that alone should terrify me. We haven’t known each other long at all—not long enough for me to be feeling like this.

But I do, and I don’t want to stop.

Sunday evening comes in the blink of an eye, and the two of us are spooned on the couch as I prepare myself for him to leave. “I miss you,” I mutter, placing a kiss on the back of his neck.

“I’m still here,” he says with a breathy laugh, snuggling into my embrace.

“Yeah, but you’re leaving soon, darlin’.” My hand rises to his chest, feeling the thump of his pulse beneath my palm. “And I’m afraid you’re taking a big piece of me with you.”

“I’ll be back,” he whispers, spinning in my arms until we’re face to face. “I’m not going far.”

A sad smile crosses my lips as I place a gentle kiss on his. “When will you let me in, Az? When do I get to see these pieces of yourself that you keep so hidden?”

“Soon,” he promises, and I swallow past my disappointment and nod.

“You were wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

Pinned by his stormy gray eyes, I hesitate. “When we first met, you said it was your heart at stake, but sweetheart… I’m afraid I’m going to be the one that ends up broken.”

“Please don’t say that... Beau, please.” The depths of his eyes beg, far more desperate than his spoken words, and as much as my own broken heart terrifies me, hurting his is something else altogether. So I drop it, snuggling him against my chest. “When can I see you again?” he whispers, like he's afraid of the answer.

A frustrated sigh fills my lungs as I think about the never-ending to-do list looming over my busy schedule. “Parent-teacher conferences and end-of-year planning are taking up a lot of my time this week, but I’m free after work on Wednesday. We could, uh… maybe I could meet your cousin? Hang out at your place?”

He tenses in my arms, and I brace myself for the rejection before he even forms the excuse. “She, um, isn’t really up for company right now.”

More disappointment rises in my throat, but I shove it down, past the prickly thorns that fight to keep it on the surface. “Alright, that’s fine. How about you let me take you out for dinner?”

“That would be perfect,” he whispers, and I swear there’s a hint of a quiver in his voice.

Wednesday comes, and the stress of Sunday is forgotten as soon as I see Az bopping along my driveway with a giant grin on his face. The mysterious Uber is nowhere to be found, and it doesn’t even surprise me anymore. New questions form for every one that gets answered, and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever truly know him.

Leaned against the doorframe, I cross my arms and watch his approach. The sun casts a stunning glow off his skin, and a white gift bag swings by his side. I arch my brow in question as I nod at it. “What’s in the bag?”

“Surprise for later.”

“What is it?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now, would it?” He skips up the stairs and leans against me, a palm landing on my chest as I pin him with a raised brow, gesturing at the bag. Bottom lip jutted out, he whines when I don’t kiss him. “Are you seriously holding out on me because I won’t tell you what it is?”

Unable to hold my composure any longer, I grin and give him what he wants. As soon as his lips meet mine, that feeling of being home hits me again and I can breathe. My lungs can fill, and that heaviness that’s been weighing on my shoulders lifts.

We climb into my truck and drive into town, Azrael squirming beside me. If he were a dog, he’d be wagging his tail. “Out with it,” I say, and he bites at his lips, like the secret might burst out otherwise. “Come on, you know I don’t like surprises.”

“It’s supposed to be for dessert.” He wiggles again as an excited hum builds in his throat, and I can tell he’s close to cracking.

“Please?” I reach over and weave our fingers together, putting on my best pouty face. “Pretty please?”

“If I give it to you now, we’ll be late for dinner.” Instead of dissuading me, that only piques my interest even more.

“There are no reservations, darlin’, and this is a small town on a Wednesday night. I’m not exactly worried about getting a table. Our time is our own to do what we want… and I want to see what my surprise is.”

“Oh, hell… fine. So pushy,” he adds in a mutter, but I can tell he’s grinning.

My eyes leave the road only for a split second, registering the faint blush on his cheeks as he fiddles with the bag. Paper crinkles as he pulls something out, a piece of red cloth that I can’t identify while I’m driving.

I hold my hand out, and he puffs a long, bellyaching sigh. “This seemed so hot when I was doing it, and now I’m embarrassed.”

“What did you tell me? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about with me.”

He sighs again and relents, pressing the fabric into my palm. Gaze shifting between the road and my new gift, I realize it’s a cherry-red jockstrap… one that’s much too small for me.

“I, uh, wore it before I left home,” he says, sounding shy.

“And what exactly were you doing when you were wearing it?” My voice is husky as I spin the cloth in my hands, realizing there’s a dampness to the crotch. The image plays through my mind in real time—his hand shoved underneath the material, hips jerking forward as he fucks his fist.

“Thinking of you… using a toy.”

“A toy, huh? Did you fill this up for me?” I bring the fabric to my nose and inhale the musky scent, my cock growing uncomfortable full under the denim of my jeans. The seam gives me a sliver of relief, dragging over it as I shift in my seat.

“Taste it and tell me what you think.” There’s a gravelly quality to his voice that isn’t usually there. We’re close to the restaurant, square in the middle of town, and he wants me to put his dirty jockstrap in my mouth.

Anyone could see.

The realization makes me dizzy, my heart thumping in my chest as I lift the material and lick. The taste of him coats my tongue and I moan, drawing a spot of fabric between my lips and sucking.

He groans low under his breath as he watches me. “I needed to come so bad, Beau, but I didn’t waste it.”

“And why is that? Why did you save this for me, Az?”

“Because this weekend you said all my cum is yours… it all belongs to you.” A shutter works its way through my limbs as I remember making the demand.

“That’s right, sweetheart, you did so good. Tell me how you made yourself come.”

Breathless, his chest rises with his rapid inhales as he reaches over and uses a single finger to push the fabric deeper in my mouth. “After I took a shower, I… I-I suctioned a dildo to the wall. Then I fucked myself on it while I was wearing those.”

Christ , this man. My hips jerk again, eyes trying to roll up in my head at the friction. “Did you have to touch yourself?”

“N-No,” he stutters, suddenly shy once more. “It, uh, didn’t take me long. It was so fast, Beau, and I was so embarrassed at first.”

“Fuck, don’t be embarrassed. Tell me about it. What position were you in?”

“On my hands and knees… I took the whole thing at once. Didn’t even have time to turn the vibrator on, just thrust a few times and before I could stop it, there was cum everywhere.” Another desperate moan leaves me, the sound caught by the fabric. I turn into the restaurant and park in the back of the lot, far away from the other cars.

As soon as the truck is parked, I reach over and undo his pants, almost ripping them in my haste. “Need you now,” I murmur, and his hips lift as we work them off his legs together, denim swishing as they’re tossed in the floorboard.

My zipper whirs as he works it down, freeing my cock as he reaches behind him and removes his plug, uncaring where it lands as he tosses it. One leg swings over my hips and he drops his weight, taking me all at once with a sharp moan. Tight, slick heat squeezes around me as I hiss, my fingers digging into the flesh of his ass.

“Suck on that,” he murmurs, poking the jock further in my mouth until it pushes my cheeks out, gagging me. Spit leaks from my lips and slicks my chin as I’m forced to breathe through my nose. There’s no gentle buildup as he rides me, only needy desperation. Muscles flexing, he rolls his hips, the taste of his release thick on my tongue. My hands are rougher than I intend as I encourage him to move faster, gripping him with bruising pressure.

I don’t want to take my time, and he isn’t about to let me.

The entire truck rocks, shocks squeaking as my hips lunge off the seat. One of his palms covers my mouth, forcing it to stay closed while the other smacks against the top of the truck. He pushes his weight against me as he grinds, and my breath saws out, exploding in heavy huffs through the barrier of his fingers.

“When we met, I thought you were so innocent. Who knew sweet Beau was so filthy? Did you save all that nastiness just for me?” I nod against his hand, my moans reduced to mere whimpers as my tension skyrockets. Coiling and twisting, the pressure curls my toes and strains my thighs, sweat forming a sheen on my forehead.

There’s a swivel in his hips that makes him move as fluid as water, his head falling back onto his shoulders as my name tumbles out of him in a breathless chant. Lips parting, he releases the most beautiful noises as he comes, his release shooting across my shirt.

Shuddering, he slumps forward and tucks his face into my neck as he whimpers, and without his hand holding it in place, the jockstrap falls from my mouth. My hips snap up and I gasp his name, palms sliding up the overheated skin under his shirt because I need more contact. Fingernails digging into his back, I spill into him with a shout. I should be gentler, but I can’t help myself as I scratch red trenches into his skin. White light pinpricks my vision, a low buzz ringing in my ears.

“Where’s the plug?” My words come out in a slur, blindly slapping at the seat until I feel the metal under my palm. I lift him as my cock slips free, inserting the plug and sealing my release inside him. My fingers raise to my mouth, and I lick the traces clean as he groans, curling his body against me.

“We made a mess.” He sounds so blissed out that I have to chuckle.

Stripes of cum streak my shirt as he sits back,dragging the pad of his fingers over and feeding it to me until all that's left is wet stripes. He stares at them before his gaze moves to the wetness surrounding the fly of my jeans. “Do you have a change of clothes?”

A thrill runs up my spine as I bite at my lip, watching him pull his pants on. “What if…” I clear my throat, a flush forming on my cheeks. “What if we went to dinner like this?”

His eyes turn heavy-lidded as he flutters his lashes at me. “You want to go inside that restaurant with my cum decorating your shirt?”

“Yes,” I whisper as he fastens his button, scooting back over and claiming my lips in a long, drawn-out kiss. “No one will even see it, and if they do, it’s not like they’d know… but I’ll know. There’s something about being covered in you that just…” I trail off, and risk a glance at him, but find no judgement in his eyes.

“Well, then,” he says, popping another kiss on my lips, “let’s get moving.”