Page 40 of You, Again
“No. This is just for you.” Vinnie pulled away, turned off the water on his side of the shower and returned, kissing a sexy trail along my neck. “I want to try something.”
He got on his knees and rubbed his nose along my shaft. Just a ghost of a touch, but it was enough to direct my available blood supply to my erection.
“Vinnie…”
He stroked my cock a few times before swallowing me whole. Well…half. He gagged, his eyes bright with laughter. “Whoa, I suck at this.”
“You have to keep sucking to be good at it.”
And then we were both laughing. It wasn’t particularly funny, but it was…perfect.
He tried again and this time—oh, yeah, Vinnie was a fast learner. He licked me, twirling his tongue over the head, and sucking as much of my length as he could while he massaged my balls. I widened my stance to give him room to work. He took that as an invitation to explore, gliding his palms along the inside of my thigh and teasing the sensitive skin behind my sac.
I pushed his hair from his forehead for a better view of his mouth on my dick, his eyes half-closed in a blissed-out look I wanted to imprint in my brain forever. This was Vinnie. My first crush, my childhood friend. His tongue circled my tip as his fingers nudged my hole and—
“Turn around, hands on the tile,” he growled, standing to turn off the water.
It took a moment for words to register, but I obeyed. He dropped to his knees once more, pulled my ass cheeks apart, and licked my entrance.
“Holy fuck,” I moaned. He kept going, digging his nails in as he tongue-fucked my hole. “I—Vin, I…”
He smacked my ass hard enough to leave a handprint. “Stroke yourself. We’re on the clock. Let’s see if you can come this way.”
Uh, the answer was a resounding yes. However, for the sake of experimentation, I flattened my left palm on the cool tile and jerked off while he reduced me to a puddle of goo. He bit my ass cheek and slowly stood behind me, kissing my shoulder as he slipped a single digit between my crease. He teased my hole and nibbled my ear, whispering nasty words of encouragement of the “Let me see you jack that cock for me” variety. I was already near the edge when he pushed a finger inside me and ground his dick on my ass.
“Fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Yeah, that’s it. Come.”
I came hard, shooting over the tile as my entire body shook. Seconds later, I felt his warm release on my lower back.
Vinnie wrapped his arms around me, nestling his scruffy chin on my jaw. He peppered kisses along my neck, then nudged my hip till I faced him. Our tongues twisted in leisurely satisfaction, deep and carnal with no sense of time.
The niggling feeling that we were supposed to be somewhere surfaced after a minute or so. I broke free with a gasp and motioned for him to turn on the water.
“We have to go soon,” I hummed against his lips.
He stole another soul-stirring kiss. “Let’s call in sick.”
“We can’t do that,” I panted.
Vinnie sighed as he reached for the faucet knob, yelping under the sudden cold spray. I laughed, so of course he splashed water at me. I couldn’t let that go, so I retaliated and started a mini splash battle in between madly soaping up and rinsing off.
By the time we’d finally dressed and raced to his Jeep, we had five minutes to get to practice. And you know, any other time, I would have been stressed out of my mind. I hated being late. Not today.
He held out his hand as he navigated his long driveway, smiling when I laced our fingers. We probably talked or maybe listened to music, but I couldn’t concentrate on words or sound. My head was in the clouds, and my heart did funny somersaults. I wished I could stop time and make the road longer. I wished we could drive without a real destination.
Just two old friends who’d made their way back to each other and discovered something more.
* * *
Elmwood Diner wasthe pride of the Moore family and had been a town institution for over a hundred years. No kidding. We’d been here much longer than that, though. The Moores first settled in our little corner of Vermont sometime in the late eighteenth century. My ancestors were farmers turned innkeepers who eventually decided to open a dining hall adjacent to their property when the demand for roadside eateries grew.
That diner was lost in a fire in the early 1930s and was immediately rebuilt at its current location on Main Street and Blossom. And yes, it was still owned and operated by the Moore family—specifically, me.
Let me first preface this by stating this had never been my dream job. No way, no how.
I’d had high hopes of making it big in set design in Hollywood after I graduated from UCLA. For a few years, it had looked like things were finally going my way. I’d met an amazing group of friends in college, started my own business, and had done very well freelancing for a few major studios. I’d been one payday away from purchasing a condo when my dad died unexpectedly and my world crumbled.