“Don’t you want to know if I’m straight?” he asks with a smirk.
“No.”
His mouth turns downward into a frown as his brows pinch with confusion. “Why not?”
“Because I already know you’re not.”
Rowan scoffs. “And how do you know that, Mr. Know It All?”
“Well, for one, you told me you gave a blow job to the housekeeping dude,” I say pointedly. “Even if that’s a lie, no straight guy would lie about that.”
He thinks about that for a moment before chuckling. “Okay, yeah. You got me there.”
After that, we fall into a comfortable silence as we finish smoking while we listen to song after song play through the ear buds. It’s getting warmer the longer we sit here, and the idea of jumping off that cliff into the turquoise waters is sounding more and more appealing as the time goes on.
“Have you heardLeft Behindby The Plot In You?” he asks as the song changes. “I think you’d like it.” He’s done this a few times, told me to listen to specific songs that he thinks I’d like. And I always do.
At some point, Rowan ends up lying back, propped up on his elbows. I don’t know how that’s fucking comfortable with the hard ass ground below us, but I don’t question it. My mind is stuck on the one question he asked that was more than likely nothing but a joke.
“You want me to suck you off?”
Yes, yes, I do. My cock sitting at half-mast would have to agree. It’s clear now that if I wanted to, he’d be down. But do I want to go there? If it fucking sucks, I’d have to see him all the time, at least until I’m released from here. We’re neighbors and share a group therapy session; it’s not like I can totally avoid him. Raking my gaze over him, I can’t help but question that… Would he be good?
His lips are certainly fuckable, that’s for damn sure. I can almost envision the way his hair would feel, threaded between my fingers as I fuck into that perfect fucking mouth of his, stealing his breath and making him choke. His clothes are entirely too baggy for me to know how tight his ass is, and the one time he stripped his shirt off after I punched him, I was too pissed off to check him out like I should’ve, but I bet it’s nice and would feel fucking heavenly sinking into. Bet he moans real beautifully too.
Rowan glances over, catching me checking him out. At this point, I don’t try to hide it. He throws me a knowing smirk. “Whatcha thinking ’bout?”
“My cock down your throat.”
He swallows, throat bobbing, and I swear, even in the sunlight, his pupils dilate.
“Would you like that?” I ask, purposely keeping my voice low.
“Maybe,” he replies, sounding completely unaffected. The bulge in his pants tells me otherwise.
“What type of shit are you into?”
Brows knitting in confusion, he asks, “What do you mean?”
I roll my eyes at his obtuse question. “In bed, idiot. What are you into sexually?”
“Not you being an asshole to me,” he scoffs.
“Not into a little degradation, baby,” I purr. “Don’t want me to tell you what a filthy fucking whore you are?”
I take a sick satisfaction in watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down again, Rowan looking absolutely speechless. For once.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I mutter. “You can pretend all you want you don’t like the asshole, but nice guys would bore you, I fucking bet.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Well, what about you?”
I shrug. “I haven’t found much that I’mnotinto,” I reply honestly. I’m a fairly open guy, willing to try just about anything once, and I have yet to find anything that I’ve tried and hated. My issue normally lies in finding someone who’s also as down for whatever as I am.
He nods. “So, what’s something you haven’t tried but you want to?”
One thing immediately comes to the forefront of my mind. Something I’ve read about in books but have never been able to try. But I hesitate saying it out loud, because said in front of the wrong type of person, I’ll sound like a fucking psycho. Which, normally, I don’t give a shit about, but again… I have to see him all the time.
Rowan must sense my hesitancy because he smirks. “Go on… tell me. I won’t judge.”
