Page 12

I replace the dildo, carefully closing the doors of the wardrobe and turning back to face Carter.

He’s wearing black slacks that were tailored to fit his athletic build.

Strong legs make me guess that he’s a runner like me, leading up to a trim waist and muscular chest. His biceps bulge at the fabric of the blue button-up shirt where they’re crossed over his chest. His rich chocolate brown hair is quite long on the top, styled and tousled back out of his face now, the sides are shorter, but just enough so that it’s off of his ears.

My cock bucks as I take my fill of him .

Fuck. My hands itch to touch him again. It’s almost painful not to reach for him.

I meet his eyes as I rub my palm over the thick outline of my dick, not making a single attempt to be inconspicuous about it. Carter’s eyes track the movement—just like I wanted them to—his jaw ticking, his only tell that I’ve affected him.

“What’s your endgame here, Nash?”

Can’t say I love it, but it’s better than Griffin, I suppose.

“How’d you figure out who I was?” I counter, walking aimlessly around the room, checking it out.

“Does it matter? Let me guess, since you don’t seem to want to be forthcoming about shit,” Carter says as he leans back against the door, crossing his ankles like he’s catching up with an old friend instead of interrogating an enemy.

But is that what I am? I certainly don’t want to be.

“Your family owns the Northwest Explorer, and while you’ve been playing me for months on actually doing the interview you requested, you’ve done a deep dive on my family—looking for a story.

You started with me, ’cause you thought I was the weakest link, right?

And tracked me to Temptations. What I need to know is what you plan to do with the information you have on me now.

I’m assuming you’ll be exploiting it since taking a meeting with me to feature the distillery seems to be out of the question. ”

I’ll give it to him, he’s got quite the pessimistic mentality.

I wasn’t expecting him to jump to such dark conclusions about me.

When I take a step back, I can see it. But he doesn’t know me from the next asshole, and I’m sure he has his reasons for being skeptical.

He also doesn’t know my reason for following him to Temptations.

Too bad I can’t tell him that without sounding like a fucking crazy person.

I saw your photo on the distillery website, and my knees almost buckled with how beautiful you are. Your striking blue eyes called to me like whispers, giving me hope that someone was out there, created just for me.

Instead, I take slow, measured steps in his direction and watch his reaction.

Once I’m a pace away, his breathing starts to pick up, just ever so slowly, an increase in the rise and fall of his chest. He shifts so that he’s standing upright, putting us at near eye level, his jaw ticking, eyes squinting at me like he can’t figure out my play.

I stop once we’re toe-to-toe, his scent surrounding me—rich molasses and spice—sending my senses into overdrive.

Fucking delicious.

I don’t say anything, waiting for him to be the one to break the silence stretching between us.

I use the time to study his features. His blue eyes that swirl with so much depth, the beard that he keeps trimmed expertly close around a strong jaw.

His lips are slightly puffy, pale pink and perfect to wrap around my cock.

“You’re not gonna deny it then?”

“Why deny what you’ve already made your mind up to believe?”

As much as it pains me to let you believe I’m capable of hurting another person. But I can’t have you, so this makes it easier.

“Because I want to hear your filthy mouth say it,” he snaps. “You knew who I was when you hooked up with me, took advantage of the heat of a situation, just so you could get a story. Are you even into dick or just that pathetically committed to your job?”

That last part stings, and I know my eyes flash with agitation before my mask falls back into place. I grab my cock with my hand and give it a vulgar jerk through my slacks, the outline of how thick and hard I am obnoxiously obvious.

“What about this makes you think I’m not into men? ”

“Maybe it has nothing to do with pussy or dick and everything to do with being a sadist?”

An image of Carter splayed out on my bed naked, wrists and ankles bound, begging me to let him come after hours of edging appears in my head and I contemplate the idea with a smirk, my head cocking to the side.

“Gotta say, my imagination is doing delicious things right now.” I take a single step forward, my shoe stepping between his, our knees nearly touching. My leg can feel the warmth emanating from his body and my cock throbs at a relentless beat.

“The fuck do you want with me?”

A sardonic laugh bubbles free from my throat because how do I even answer that?

I want to know everything about you. I want to know what you taste like, what you look like when you’re sleeping and most relaxed and vulnerable.

I want to know your favorite movie, song, and how you take your coffee.

I want to tell you that you’re the first person to quiet all the bullshit constantly filling my head and my evil asshole daddy dearest has threatened my life if I so much as look at you, little own touch you or make you mine, when every cell in my body is telling me to do just that.

You’ll never amount to anything, Griffin.

You’re such a fucking disappointment, Griffin.

It’s bad enough that my only son is gay, the least you could do is not fuck up another thing.

You’re an embarrassment, I’m ashamed you’re my son.

“I fucking own you, Griffin. You’re a Nash. Which means you are mine. Fall in line, or I will destroy you.”

I roll my neck from side to side, the sick reminder that I can’t do anything right in my father’s eyes causing a familiar pain behind my eyes. I want to quiet the voices. I need to. So, I press.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I finally answer, pressing my hips against his, my eyebrows raising at what I discover. “For someone who says he doesn’t want me, you are so goddamn hard.”

A sexy growl works its way up Carter’s throat, a sound that makes my dick buck against the zipper of my slacks. The tension is a live wire between us, palpable, and making us both nearly pant at the close proximity.

He wants me just as much as I want him.

I roll my hips against his, watching his reaction.

His breathing hitches, every rise of his chest rubbing against mine, his nipples hard peaks under the tight, thin fabric of his shirt.

Fuck, I wish there wasn’t any material between us.

I want to feel his hard abs, his perfect chest. My fingers ache to drag my nails over the fine expanse of his sexy body.

“Lover, you can deny this all you want, but you feel it just as much as I do.”

“I’m not your fucking lover.”

He says the words, but they don’t pack a punch. His eyes devour me, and he can’t hide his arousal. He wants this, he’s just too caught up in the other bullshit to make the move. The corner of my lips lifts on one side, challenging him.

“Fine. I’ll make it easy on you, Carter.”

“By walking out and never coming back?”

“I’ll dare you.”

His eyes flash at the challenge, and I wonder if he’ll take me up on it.

I don’t even know what I’m pushing for him to do.

Hell, we can stand here and grind our cocks together through the thin layer of our pants until we’re both panting and filling our boxers with cum for all I care.

Just as long as he gives me a piece of him.

Just as long as my brain stays quiet. He’s the first person to settle all the messed up shit in my head.

Being with him is all I want right now, it doesn’t matter that he falsely believes I could do anything to hurt him . . . or anyone, for that matter.

“You want it?” he asks, surprising me.

Jesus. Is he testing me? Yes, I want it. I want to devour him whole.

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

“Then fucking suck it .”

My eyes widen, my heart rate spiking, my mouth practically watering for him.

He wants me to taste him again? I know he has to be testing me now.

He’s still unsure if I’m actually into dick, or hell, even him, but despite what he may be questioning, I’ve never wanted someone more.

The dynamic is different; I’m always the one in control, never before trusting another person enough to let them lead, but I want to please Carter.

I want to make this as easy as possible for him.

My heart pulls as I realize all the shit that’s probably muddling his head—me, the magazine, and from what I can only assume, the strong possibility that he’s only been with women until now.

Jesus, no wonder he’s fighting it and panic dances behind his eyes.

I start to drop to my knees at his demand, going against every natural instinct I have to follow it, but I want him, and I’ll let him lead this for as long as he needs to.

“I’ve been craving the taste of you since the first night,” I confess truthfully. “But I need to hear you say it—explicitly—that this is what you want, Carter.”

He hesitates for a moment, and I know I put him on the spot, but I need his consent. I need to know—games aside—he’s here right now with me, and this is what he wants. His eyes search mine for a moment, and he must find whatever he’s looking for because he nods his head .

“Words, lover. I need them. Then I’ll make you feel so fucking good.”

His eyes flutter closed for a moment as he releases a deep exhale, and I fear I’ve lost him. My feelings are quickly squashed as they open, burning with lust, and my heart picks up the pace in my chest, blood rushing to my cock, stiffening me hard as fucking stone.

“Yeah, I want this. On your knees, Nash.”

My knees hit the hard floor as Carter makes quick work of his pants, his fingers shaking as he’s slipping them down over his hips, frantically pulling his thick cock free. Goddamn it, thank fuck, he’s eager for it, he wants this just as bad as I do.

I take over almost immediately. My hand wrapping around the cock I’ve been dreaming about all week.

He’s thick and smooth in my hand, and I give him a hard jerk, loving how his thighs tense up at the feeling I’m pulling from him.

Using the flat of my tongue, I lick a slow trail from right above his sack, up the pulsing vein of the underside of his dick to the crown, flicking the bead of precum from it.

Carter releases a rough exhale as he relaxes against the wall, giving in more, but not quite handing himself over to me.

I pump him twice, swirling my tongue around the thick mushroom head, lapping at the precum beading there. His salty taste explodes on my tongue and I moan around it, meeting his eyes as I do.

“Quit playing and suck it. You want my dick, Griffin? Show me how good you can suck it.”

Fuck, I hate hearing that name from him.

I flick my eyes up to meet his as I growl—deep and warning—before doing exactly what he says, sucking him all the way down.

I relax my throat, letting his big dick slide into the cavity, my nose pressed against the pubic hair he keeps trimmed close to the skin.

I fucking love that he’s nearly bare. I throw everything I have into sucking him off, squeezing his hip with one hand and slipping my other between his legs.

He spreads willingly for me, giving me access to cup his balls.

The urge to slip my finger behind them and stimulate his tight asshole is incredibly strong, but I have a feeling this would end quicker than it started if I do.

Carter’s hands stay firmly at his sides, closed into fists as if he’s actively trying to hold himself back.

I use my hand on his hip to move him, urging him to rock, to fuck my face, giving him further control—which is difficult for me.

It takes him a moment before he gives in, finally thrusting into my face, his thick mushroom head nudging the back of my throat.

I shift, relaxing my throat, as I gag around his length for the first time, tears springing to my eyes. That seems to do the trick.

“Oh, fuck, yeah. Just like that. You like my cock down your throat? You like being on your knees for me?”

I want to answer him verbally, but I don’t want him to stop, instead humming around him as I hollow out my cheeks on the next upstroke, sucking hard.

“Oooh, fuuuck. That’s it, fuck that feels good.

” His hand twitches at his side for a moment, my eyes tracking the movement, waiting for that last thread of restraint to break.

I take him all the way down and stay with my nose pressed against his pubic area, his euphoric, musky scent engulfing my lungs, his cock laying down my throat, and I swallow.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

His hands thread through my hair as he forces me back, just long enough to break the suction and suck in a gulp of air, filling my lungs with oxygen, before he’s pressing me back down to repeat the process.

It’s obscene, spit and his salty precum dripping from my lips, my gags and slurps mixed with his heavy panting, the only noise filling the room.

“Fuck. Fuck. You’re gonna suck the cum right out of me. So fucking good. You want my cum?” He moans the words on jagged breaths, and it’s music to my ears. “Shit. It’s coming, fuuuck, pull back now if you don’t want it.”

I appreciate the warning, but I want it. Desperately.

I grip his hips with both hands, pulling him deep into my mouth as his cock swells, throbbing as he overflows me with his cum.

He tastes fucking amazing—a musky, salty flavor that’s my new favorite thing in the world.

I gag around the heavy streams that shoot from his slit, swallowing back as much as I can in a greedy attempt to consume all of him.

“Fuuck, Finn, fuuuuuck.”

Finn.

And just like that, I fall harder.