Beck has this general air of “I truly don’t give a fuck” with almost everything. I don’t think he does it consciously, but he acts as though he expects everyone to respect him already, to want to impress him.
Or maybe I just want to impress him.
I noticed it the first day I saw him at his company—the way his employee handed over their seat without question, how so many people followed his example in the exercises. It made sense there, where he’s the boss, but this weekend, I was surprised to see how little his attitude changed around strangers. Even with the Kyla higher-ups, who can be pretty intimidating, Beck acted like they needed to earn his notice.
He’s never acted like that with me, though.
Somehow, I’ve done something to hold his attention. Whenever I looked at him today, he was already studying me. It’s intoxicating to be the sole focus of such a self-assured man. Every time he looks at me, it makes me feel invincible.
Now, seeing the evidence of his arousal as he stalks toward me, I know I’m playing a dangerous game. I could quickly get addicted to this feeling, and I’m not sure if this thing between us will end after this weekend.
And that terrifies me.
Beck has been honest about his lack of serious relationships in the past. During the program, he’d talked about his family wanting him to settle down, but I don’t know if he’s ready for that.
Not to mention the fact that we live in different states, both with demanding careers that keep us constantly on the move.
But I refuse to borrow tomorrow’s troubles today. Instead, I decide to stay present and enjoy this moment. I’m sitting on the edge of a bed naked with a very sexy, also very naked, Beck standing in front of me. I spread my legs so that he can walk into the space between them and lean up to meet his kiss.
It’s a soft, slow kiss. Nothing like the frantic and desperate ones from yesterday. I grab onto his hips, letting my hands explore the firm curves of his ass as his tongue teases my lips, tasting me.
Before I lose myself entirely in the feel of him, I pull back, and he stands back to his full height with a quirked brow. From my position on the low bed, I’m perfectly in line with his swollen cock, and I can’t help but stare, completely fascinated.
It’s long and thick, not quite as big as mine, but I’ve been in enough gym locker rooms to know that he has a big dick.
And now that I’ve hadthatthought, I realize straight guys probably wouldn’t notice or remember other men’s cocks well enough to know what qualifies as a “big dick”.
Obliviousness has always been a personal quirk of mine. Social cues, flirting, or being hit on always go right over my head, or so I’ve been told. But missing the fact that I’m attracted to men? That has to take the crown on my list of oblivious moments.
Looking at Beck now, though, naked and in front of me, I know for a fact that he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. His defined muscles, the ink that covers his arms and chest in a complicated patchwork of images and shading, accentuating every curve of his physique. Then there are his ink-free, defined abs, with a light dusting of hair leading down to his enticing cock. I am one hundred percent not straight.
The urge to touch him is overwhelming. Before I even realize what I’m doing, my hand reaches out, wrapping around his rock-hard erection.
Obviously, I know what my dick feels like, but there’s something so incredibly hot about the opposing sensations of how soft he feels in my callused hands as I stroke up his shaft and how hard he is.
For me.
I love being able to see the physical proof of what I’m doing to him.
Beck lets out a low hum of appreciation as I continue to move my hand up and down, adding a slight twist as I get to the angry pink head. I realize I should probably focus more on how this feels for him, rather than just the weight of him in my grip, so I spit in my hand before returning to the motion.
I glance up to catch the look of complete awe on his face. “How do you look so excited to be jerking me off when yesterday you were straight?”
“Well, I obviously wasn’t straight. I was just oblivious to how amazing other people’s cocks could be.”
“Mine,” he corrects in a possessive growl. “How amazingmycock could be.”
I love that he doesn’t like the idea of me with other men. I know that we have no real chance at a future, but right here, in this moment, I can let myself pretend. Pretend that Beck’s the only one I’ll ever need again.
“Yes,” I agree on an exhale, looking up at him between my lashes. “Your cock is it for me.” I’m surprised by how hot that line of thinking is, how turned on I am by the idea of him owning me in that way.
He must like it too because he grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back up to look at him after my gaze had wandered back south. “Say it again,” he demands. “Say my cock is the only cock for you, that you’re mine.”
It might feel a little intense for the second time we’ve hooked up, but something about the idea feels right. It settles something inside of me. So even if I know deep down it won’t be real, the words feel true as I speak them on a breathy exhale. “I’m yours.”
Our gazes lock for an endless moment before he leans down to meet my mouth in a claiming kiss. He tries to pull me up to stand, but I’m determined to taste him.
I push him away. “Dammit, Beck, stop distracting me! I want to blow you,” I complain. I’ve always wondered what it was like for the women I’ve been with, and after how hot last night was with him finishing on my face, I’m even more excited to be on this side of things.
