“Good. I’m glad you think so.” After another moment of staring at his schedule, he asks, “Are you planning to stay in the chair?”
“Where would you rather have me?” I ask, my usual flirt falling a little flat.
He takes so long to answer, I feel my face heat. And then he says, “You can stay there if you’d like.”
With that little slap in the face, my day goes from shitty to abysmal.
7
DEACON
Isaac’s terrace is the sexiest place I’ve ever been. It’s as large as half his penthouse and situated on the corner of his building. Round white lights are strung up like a canopy, and a fire blazes in a glass pit at the center of a circle of outdoor seating.
On one of the deep sofas, I’m lying on my side with Isaac. His lips are attached to mine and my hand is down the back of his sweats. My middle finger toys restlessly with his prostate as he grinds our cocks together.
Not bad for a Tuesday night.
Admittedly, I wasn’t sure this was going to happen, but I scheduled that dinner with Evan in case it did, being optimistic for once. After this past weekend, things with Isaac could have gone either way. I ended up falling asleep here Friday night—we both did—after three rounds of mind-rearranging sex. He was up before I was, so I couldn’t sneak out. Anyway, he ended up going down on me again before asking me out to breakfast.
I went with him, and it was…nice. We didn’t talk much, but what we did say was easy—all things considered. It felt like he hung on every word I gave him. The conversation wasn’toverly personal. Mostly fact-based and biographical with the occasional overt flirtation.
I considered parting ways with him outside the restaurant, but when he kissed me in the middle of the sidewalk, I got very horny, very fast, and he must have too because I got invited back here again. Back inside him. The day two sex was even better than Friday night. Fucking phenomenal. Addicting. It led us well into the night. Sunday morning, when I was about to leave, he asked if we could see each other again. We’d ended up spending all day together. Mostly doing this.
Since I finally left late Sunday night, I’ve had to work hard not to get my hopes up, and yet, here I am, desperate to fuck him again and again and again.
The kissing is extremely distracting, though. It’s making me stupid. I don’t think I’ve ever been with anyone so obsessed with kissing, and because of that, I never realized how goddamn hot it is. A few sloppy kisses before a blow job or quick fuck is about my sum total of experience with it. I associate kissing with feelings, and feelings are complicated. Sex is not.
The way Isaac molds himself to my body—to my mouth in particular—feels immaculate, like I’m tapping into a part of my sexuality I’ve never explored. It’s all clean and new and so fucking sexy, I’m in constant danger of coming before I get my pants down.
“Oh, God,” he breathes, his mouth moving to my cheek, and his hand gripping the back of my head. “That’s gonna make me come.”
At least I’m not the only one. “Do you want to?”
“Not yet…ungh,” he groans. “Maybe.”
“You’re the CEO,” I remind him, keeping my finger still while he kisses my face and works through his decision making process.
His hole clenches, and his cock grinds against mine again. “Too late,” he whispers. “Fuck…”
His body jolts against mine, and he lets out a ragged breath. I feel the spasm of his dick between us and a sharp tug on the roots of my hair.
With my own hard on still raging, he softens all over, melting against me like wax. “I’ve never had anything like this,” Isaac tells me eventually, like he’s sharing a secret.
“Like what?”
“You’re always holding me.”
“You feel good,” I say.
“You feel incredible. See? I don’t usually say shit like that, either.”
“Do you like it, or do you hate it?”
“It’s confusing, but I do wonder howyoufeel about it.”
I don’t want to let go. It’s a rare feeling for me, too. In very few areas of my life have I ever felt important or contained or even stable. Isaac treats me like I’m not only stable, but like I’m stabilizing him, too. It’s part of the addictive nature of this attraction that came out of nowhere and flipped me all around. I like the sound of his satisfied sighs, the unguarded groans, and the unashamed way he digs his fingertips in like he’s not afraid to need something from me. To take something.
“I’m into it,” I tell him.
