Brandon
My head was swimming.
The numbers on the timesheets in front of me were all but a blur despite my best efforts to focus on actually getting any of this paperwork done before close this afternoon. But no amount of putting my pen to paper was motivating me enough to work through the past month’s worth of clock-ins.
All I could focus on was Avery.
He’d been too far gone in post-nut bliss to notice me quietly grabbing my things and leaving last night. I hadn’t had the heart to stop by the kitchen to make up some excuse to Hazel for leaving so soon, nor did I bother emailing Avery when I finally got home.
Sticking around for whatever aftermath awaited me once he finally realized his former best friend sucked him off wasn’t exactly the kind of conversation I’d been prepping myself to have when he’d invited me over.
In fact, that was the complete fucking opposite of what was supposed to happen.
But goddamn, would all of that be used as fodder for my own future self-gratification. Seeing Avery’s face twist up in pleasure like that was incredible, even more so becauseI’dbeen the one to cause it in the first place.
He’d tasted amazing on my tongue, his weight solid in my hand and thick enough to wrap my fingers around him comfortably. Each twitch of his hips, or flickering of his lashes over his eyes had driven me to keep going, to keep touching and tasting him until he was exploding in my mouth and making a mess out of the both of us.
I’d touched myself to the memory while driving home, coming in my own hand in a humiliating fashion as soon as I’d pulled into my own driveway and parked my truck.
I’d sat there after the fact for a long while, contemplating my life choices and wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now.
Howwas I supposed to look Avery in the eyes when I’d had his entire cock in my fucking mouth and drank down his cum like it was water found in the Sahara desert?
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I dropped my pen back down onto the desk and sighed heavily.
The problem was that it was too good not to want to do it again. The other problem was that Avery was very much straight and even if this was for some strange reason a moment of weakness or curiosity for him, that didn’t guarantee that he’d want to go for a second round.
It was healthy to want to explore yourself. Hell, I never minded showing newbies the ropes once they were comfortable enough to crawl into bed with me and teach them the proper ways to take care of someone else.
Why gatekeep the experience?
This was entirely different, though, and had me wondering if Avery was somehow questioning his sexuality.
If so, how long had that been going on?
Surely, before he’d come back to Ellington Heights.
Pushing back from my desk, I climbed to my feet and headed out of my office toward the back of the shop. I pushed the glass door open to enter the garage. Music was blaring on the speaker closest to Vance’s station, some classic rock song that was vaguely familiar but too loud to actually make out of the words over the ridiculous amount of bass.
He was working on the black Bel Air while the Ford Coupe was up on the risers at Charlie’s station. No one else besides Vance was back here, which meant that they’d all probably gone on lunch already.
When he turned to grab a socket wrench, he spotted me and waved. “Hey, boss!”
I flicked down the volume on the speaker to less of a dull roar and to something that wasn’t threatening to blow my eardrums out. “Everyone else gone?”
“Yup. Just me and you.”
Glancing over at the clock, I said, “You want to take off? I’ve got things until the others come back.”
He propped his safety glasses up onto the top of his head, tugging off his gloves in the process. “You sure? We’ve got that two o’clock coming in soon.”
“I think I can manage a valve check.”
He grinned. “Shethinksit’s one of the valves because her husband looked it up on Youtube. I’d bet twenty bucks it’s actually the timing belt.”
A true death blow for an old ‘92. “Let’s hope it’s just a valve.” Because I really wasn’t in the mood to be dealing with a cranky old retiree arguing with me about what her hobbyist husband drilled into her head before she’d brought her car in to us for maintenance.
I never minded people coming in well informed about their issues but sometimes the Internet wasn’t the best place to try and replicate a mechanic’s decades worth of knowledge.
