Page 11 of Switch

“You apologize too fucking much.You want me to stop?”Much as I’d like to get some of that sweet friction on my dick again, he’s still a customer.And the customer is always right, even when I hate him a little for even being here.

He’d better say no.My lips are buzzing like I’ve been eating hot sauce.I want more.

So much more.

Fallon’s breath is rough and choppy.One hand comes up, rubbing his lower lip, a bewildered look on his face.Maybe he’s buzzing too.“I liked it,” he whispers.

I take that as my permission to dive in again.“Good.You feel so fucking good,” I murmur against his mouth.

There’s a note of wonder in my voice.I wonder if he can tell.

I’ve kissed men before.A quick peck on the lips or the cheek.Once, I got paid to be a pretend boyfriend at a wedding, and the job required getting touchy-feely.A little making out, which was fine.

Fine.But not remarkable.I’ve done plenty of faking it for the sake of a paycheck.I’m not faking now.

How the fuck did I end up here?Hard and resentful, turned on and pissed off, I’m grinding my hard dick against Fallon’s expensive slacks like it’ll right all the wrongs in my world.My grip is too rough.I’m pushing him too hard.I love it and hate it, and I can’t seem to stop.

Surprisingly enough, he seems willing to let me.

More than willing.His eyes are wide and a little glassy, his lips parted.I suspect he’d agree to let me do an awful lot right now.The thought only makes me harder.

My lips slide along his jaw.“Your stubble feels good.Grind against me.I like feeling how hard you are.”

I’m loving how pliant and turned on he is.And knowing I’ve made him this way?

Chef’s fucking kiss.

He’s pushing his hips into me, grinding like I told him to.His hands grasp the lapels of my suit jacket.His touch feels needy, and I’m here for it.I want to kiss him until I forget how to breathe.Until I fucking drown in him.

Obsessive?Maybe.Who cares when he’s so greedy for me.It’s goddamn intoxicating.

I press against him harder, bracing one hand on the cool stone wall while I slide the other to palm his erection.“Didn’t expect you to turn me on like this, Fallon.Is this doing it for you too?You like being manhandled?”

His desperate gasp is fucking musical.

“That a yes, baby?Does my shoving you against this wall, where anyone could come by and see me stroking your cock through your designer slacks, get you hot?Bet you’d let me fuck you right here, you little slut.”

I’m rewarded with a subtle nod and a whine in the back of his throat.

Knew it.Fucking delicious.

Maybe I don’t drink or do drugs, but this?The taste of his lips and the velvet of his tongue and the barely there prickle of stubble against my face?The way he’s so goddamn needy against me?I want to mainline this shit.

I want to drag every whine and moan that’s coming out of him straight down into my bloodstream.I’m on fire, and if I’m burning, then so should he be.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he moans.

Oh, this is too damn good.

“Tell me what feels good,” I counter.

He opens his mouth, but all that comes out is a quiet whine.

I thrust my fingers into his hair, tugging, forcing his head back.“You like it when I do that?”

“Fuck yes.Push me around.I don’t mind it rough.”

Perfect.I do it again, greedy for the way he moans when I give him that little bit of pain.