My mouth waters at the thought, but I full on salivate as I watch his large, rough hand wrap around his length, giving a skilled, strong stroke, the cords in his arms flexing as he does so. Josiah is all man, and on a normal day, it’s enough to drive me wild. But now, with his naked body on display before me? It’s got me going out of my mind.
“Fuck.Look at you,” I breathe, backing up enough to let him see me stroke myself again.
“You know,” he starts, voice deep and hoarse. “I haven’t been able to get that morning at your house out of my mind all week.”
“Is that right?” I ask with a smirk. “Whatexactlyis it that you can’t stop thinking about?”
We’re both stroking ourselves in earnest at this point, my heart roaring in my chest, body lit up as electricity thrums in my veins.
“The way you felt in my hand, so hot and hard.” Josiah lets out a throat deep groan that has my balls tingling. “The way your body writhed under my touch, the way you moaned into my mouth when you couldn’t take it any longer. Everything, Segan. Every single part of you letting go for me, I can’t stop thinking about.”
His honesty is potent. I feel it from my head, down to my toes.
Using my free hand, I reach down and cup my heavy, full balls as I watch Josiah twist his wrist as he strokes himself. We get lost in watching one another work ourselves over, and the talking stops. The only noises to be heard are our heavy breathing and the occasional groans that slip out.
It should be awkward, this encounter, but it’s not. In fact, it’s one of the hottest things I’ve probably ever done. And thinking over that list, it’s actually pretty small, and almost every single item on it includes Josiah. That thought has my cock leaking and my nuts drawing up tight.
Josiah DeMille was my teenage crush and my queer awakening, all wrapped up in one tight, sexy, coverall wearing package. And now, almost a decade later, he’s still where all my dirty thoughts go when I’m alone and need a release. He’s the only man I’ve ever been intimate with, and getting to experience all these firsts with him feels as natural as breathing.
It’s always been him, and maybe when I’m sober, that realization will terrify me and have me running the other way, but right now, with lust and liquor drenching my veins, all it’s doing is pushing me closer to the edge. It’s shooting me higher and higher until my eyes want to cross and my body tingles.
His muscles bunch as he fucks his fist a little harder, and I know just by the way his face is twisted up in pleasure that he’s as close to exploding as I am. And fuck, do I revel in it.
“You gonna come, Uncle Josie?” I ask, not having a clue where theunclepart came from, but I can’t deny how fucking sexy it is.
Josiah bites down on his bottom lip, his brows pinched tight as he nods his head feverishly. “Fuck…” he gasps. “Yeah, I’m gonna come. You gonna come with me, baby?”
Yes, I fucking am.“Fuck yeah,” I moan as red-hot pleasure soars through every part of my body. My limbs tingle, knees wobbling, as heat pools low in my spine, spreading into my groin. Jaw dropping open, I have to fight to keep my eyes open, not wanting to miss a thing as Josiah’s thick, beautiful cock explodes.
Thick ropes shoot out, covering his hand as a look of pure euphoria washes over his features. It’s my undoing. There’s no holding back, my dick pulsing spurts of hot, sticky cum all over as my release wrings me dry. Watching him come is my new favorite visual, and I know, without a doubt, I won’t be forgetting this sight ever.
I leave sight of the video call momentarily to run into my ensuite and grab a towel to wipe my hands off. By the time I come back, Josiah looks cleaned up too, and the same sense of suffocating awkwardness from last time creeps back in. The need to run away, because facing him post-orgasm is just too hard. The vulnerability I feel with him, with our history, and all that he knows about me, the hold he has on me… it’s too much. I’ve spent so much of my adult life keeping everybody at an arm’s length.
He must see it written all over me too, because I watch his face fall as he lets out a sigh. “Segan, don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I scoff, hating how well he can read me.
“Run, like I know you want to. It doesn’t have to be like this.”
It’s unnerving how easily he can do that.
“I’m not running,” I lie. “It’s just getting late, and I have to be in the studio early in the morning.”
It’s the truth, but it’s not like I’ll be getting sleep any time soon. Either way, Josiah seems to buy it because his eyes soften as he watches me, and he lets out a deep breath. “Okay, but will you not go ghost on me again?”
“I won’t.” My stomach twists painfully at the lie.
When we hang up, I plug the phone into the charger, setting it on my nightstand as I climb into bed. Just as I figured, I lie there for what feels like hours before finally crashing. And by the time sleep does find me, I’m no less confused about Josiah and all the feelings that seem to come with him.
29
JOSIAH
It has been unbelievably busy today at the shop. We were nearly booked with appointments as is, but the number of walk-ins we’ve had stop by has increased everything tenfold. Not to mention, one of my mechanics is out with the flu this week, so it’s just me, Ash, and my newest guy, Briggs. It’s been nonstop since the minute we switched thatClosedsign toOpenthis morning.
Sweat lines my forehead, pouring down my back. It’s gotta be at least ninety-five degrees in this garage easily with the bay doors open and the sun beating down. I thought Nevada heat was bad, but it’s got nothing on this thick, moist Tennessee heat.
Finishing up the oil change for Mr. Steever, I stand, wiping the perspiration from my brow with the back of my hand before tossing my dirty oil rag onto the tray beside me. My stomach is grumbling, and I’m thirsty as hell, but I haven’t had a single moment to slow down and do anything other than work in hours.
