He peers at me, and I let out a soft laugh.
“You don’t need to date me to get into my pants. Seems I’ll spread my legs for you whenever, but yeah, we can hold off. For a little bit anyway.”
We tease one another at the prospect of what could happen later tonight, while rocking back and forth to the beat of the songs playing over the speaker. It moves to different songs, all about love and obsession, until the moon hides behind the dark clouds moving in above us.
“Smells like rain,” Colton says.
“Yeah. But we don’t need to leave until it really comes down.”
So we don’t move. We just drink more champagne, eat our dessert, and sway to the music, kissing each other languidly.
Until those first fat drops fall.
Then we move drunkenly down the stairs to the waiting car, Hamish’s lips tilted up in approval as we slide in behind him.
“To the ice cream shop,” Colton tells him, and I lean over and let my face nuzzle into his neck.
“Ice cream?”
“You can’t have a date without second dessert.”
The car stops a few blocks down, the windshield wipers swiping back and forth dramatically. Colton tells the driver to stay in the car, that we’ll be back, and we hop out, large wet raindrops soaking us almost instantly.
We rush through the door of the shop and skid to a stop, our bodies colliding.
His arm wraps around me, and for a second, I lean into it before pulling away.
I don’t know why I do it, but it shifts the mood slightly. Maybe I’m still afraid of someone spotting us, of the rumor mill churning. But at the same time, I don’t really know if I care all that much if people find out.
“Sorry,” I manage to murmur once we have our cones. Colton is lapping at one and meets my stare.
“I get it. Don’t want anyone catching us together.”
“I mean, do you want people to catch us?” I ask, some of the ice cream dripping onto my fingers.
He shrugs. “I guess I wouldn’t mind. You’re a fucking catch. Everyone would be jealous of me.”
My cheeks heat, and he bites his bottom lip.
If he’s not ashamed, I shouldn’t be either.
“Let’s not talk about that, though. What I want to talk about is how I want to lick those fingers clean,” he says, lowering his voice. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere I can do that. Somewhere no one can see.”
We move outside, the rain having finally stopped, but the air is still thick with the storm. He leads me around the back of the shop to an alley, and it’s there that he takes my cone from my hand and holds it up to my mouth.
I lean forward and lick at the melting ice cream, making his eyes darken. He smears the chocolate across my lips and then leans forward and licks me clean before moving on to my hands. He pulls each finger into his mouth and sucks until my head hits the brick wall behind me and I let out a small groan.
“Fuck,” he murmurs and tosses his ice cream cone into the trash before sinking to his knees. It’s filthy back here, but hedoesn’t seem to care, and I’m too turned on to really make a fuss about it.
“Take it out. Hurry.”
I do as he says, pulling my cock from my slacks and watching as he takes my cone and smears it across my hard length. It’s dripping chocolate and pre-cum until he pulls me into his mouth and sucks it clean.
The sight of it makes my hips shift forward, pre-cum beading on the tip right before he does it again. It’s messy and obscene, and yet still, he doesn’t stand up, and I do nothing but stare down at him. Watching. Waiting for more.
And he gives it to me. Messing up my cock over and over before cleaning it up with his mouth. By the time the ice cream is gone, he just pulls my dick right into the back of his throat and swallows around me.
The sensation, the visual, is enough to have me exploding in seconds, right down his throat and into his stomach.
