Walker shudders again both visibly and audibly in the shakiness to his laugh. “Wh-what are you doing Saturday?”
“Wide open. I’ll call you.”
“Okay.”
When I pull away, I wonder if Walker would have stumbled without the stoop railing behind him. He’s panting, as if the moment I walk out of view, he’ll be reaching for his inhaler. I don’t want him so breathless as to be a concern, but it’s a bolstering triumph to truly take someone’s breath away.
Walker waves as I head down the street. I’ll find a cab or call a rideshare after a block or two. The evening’s successes have left me abuzz. I couldn’t possibly head straight to the hotel to rest. I’ll write while some of my ideas are fresh, but I can multitask with a little extra reconnaissance tonight. After all, I have a new target to check up on.
Rude dinner dates really are the worst.
But polite, good-natured, and delightful ones are worth a date two.
Chapter six
WALKER
Ilean back against my door as soon as it closes behind me.
Holy shit.Holy shit.A first kiss has never made me so instantly hard.
Who am I kidding? Trey’s chaste kisses above my cut nearly made me hard, but feeling his tongue, the pressure of his hands on my neck and gripping my sweater, while slotting our hips together and holding me there?Fuck. Did he learn kissing from old black and white movies when every lip-lock has a music stinger or Hollywood dip involved?
I’m almost pissed he didn’t come up but also even more turned on that he didn’t. That he’s making me wait. That he’s going to make me wait through three more dates.
“Ngn…” I moan as I squeeze my dick through my slacks.
He felt how hard he made me, didn’t he? He pressed his hip against it. He had to have felt it. I’d pull up a photo of him to jerk off to if I’d been able to find any online. He’s so handsome, and classy, and such polished perfection that it shocked me to find his profile picture for Manifest Ventures was a silhouette of his profile in front of a neon cityscape. It’s like he doesn’t want anyone to know what he looks like. Which makes sense, or places might know him when he comes in to review them, but damn, what a waste for more people to not be able to appreciate his appeal.
I’ll have to settle for envisioning Trey’s piercing black stare, subtle grin, and the sound of his sinful baritone.
I almost push away from the door to drop back onto the sofa or go into the bedroom, but I use where I am to play out a fantasy instead. What if he had come up and pushed me against the door like this when we crossed the threshold?
I open my slacks, ready to shove my hand into my underwear, but I resist doing that too. Trey would probably tease me while whispering and blowing hot breath on my skin. I slip my hand in but keep it outside the underwear, dragging my fingers up and down my length through the fabric.
I’m already out of breath. I was when Trey walked away from me, but a few steps later and the ratcheting of my pulse had me feverish. I used my daily inhaler earlier, which helps prevent attacks. The one I bring with me is a rescue one. I don’t need to be rescued now. Not yet anyway. But I never could have guessed what would bring me close to needing a puff was calling someoneDaddyand having him call me agood boyback.
Do you have something special for Daddy?
I hear the question in Trey’s voice as I trace the slit of my cockhead with my thumbnail. It’s not only about the sex dripping from his voice, or even the way he made me melt withthat kiss. He’s sophisticated and charming and somehow not at all pretentious about it. And he listens. Dear God, does he listen and honestly seem interested in everything I say.
I would have told him my darkest secrets if he let me keep going—that time as a kid when my parents caught me behind the coffee table with a stick of butter and a bowl of sugar; how one of my worst panic attacks was from when I crawled upside down into a sleeping bag, pretending it was a cave, but then couldn’t turn around fast enough to find my way out; when I got a haircut right before Pride and had to pretend I’d gone for the penis-shaped bowl cut on purpose instead of admitting I went to a cosmetology school to save money.
And all I know about Trey is some of his travel writing exploits, that he likes good food, fancy cocktails but doesn’t overindulge, and his mother is a nurse. I want to unwrap his layers and have him unwrap me. Fully unwrap me.
Like I’m imagining him unwrapping my lower half by letting my slacks and underwear drop to my ankles. My tip is bubbling with wetness, and I convulse at the first pass of…Trey’sbeautifully manicured fingers smoothing the fluid up my shaft. He drops to his knees to worship me, while mocking that he won’t actually take me into his mouth, not tonight. He just breathes on the wetted flesh, like he breathed on my neck and ear with his whispers.
He palms my sac with just the right amount of cradling and gentle tugging. Passes over my slit again to gather more precome and starts to earnestly pump me to full mast.
That’s my good boy, so hard and eager for me.
“Ngnn…” My stomach is twisted up in warm knots. I want so badly to come but also crave more of the tease. More of Trey’s voice. His tender care and commanding presence, like I’d never have to worry about anything ever again if I just surrendered to him.
I’m pumping—no, Trey is—furiously now. He tugs a little more on my sac, then reaches up to press a palm to my chest like he’s anchoring me. Guiding me. Leading me toward the light of the best God damn orgasm I’ve had in months.
“Please!”
Pleasewhat, doctor?
