“Oh! Me, please!” I shake my mostly empty beer glass before chugging the rest of it. That hit the fucking spot.
“Coming right up,” he says before grabbing the empties and heading back to the bar.
I force myself to relax as I settle back into the booth and wait for my drink.
The warmth of is it spreading through me like a fucking hug, and I think that all I want to do tonight is lean back, relax, and stare at Silas while thinking about how much of a fucking smokeshow he is.
When I lean over and whisper that in his ear, he blushes, and it completes the whole picture. Yeah, I could do this all night. No fucking problem.
Chapter Nine
Iknow it takes more than three beers to get Cade drunk, but he’s riding on a wave of elation I rarely see from him. Maybe it’s just getting out of the house and hanging out with other people who don’t treat him like shit. Or being around people where we can act like ourselves without having to censor everything.
Maybe it’s the eyeliner. I really don’t know. Even situations like this where I’m genuinely happy to be here with my friends are still… draining. To a certain extent. But Cade’s not like me in that way, and it’s making me realize how much time he spends cooped up at home, slowly wilting like an unattended houseplant.
Tonight was a good idea. Going for the ride was a good idea. Doing things that aren’t wrapped up in me and my broken brain seems to be good for both of us. My bad days are well and truly outnumbered by my good ones, and I’m sick of both of us seeming to revolve around them, regardless.
Everyone—in fact—is having such a good time, I don’t think the others even notice when Cade grabs me by the hand and leads me toward one of the single-occupancy bathrooms. Normally, I would discourage him from getting too horny in public because Gunnar tries to keep this place relatively upstanding, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that for him. But maybe I’m high on the tone of the evening, too, because I don’t object.
All I can think about is how fucking diabolically hot he looked yesterday while we fucked over the bikes. I’m not an expert on relationships, but I know people talk a lot about the sex aspect getting worse. Or less interesting, maybe.
Cade and I definitely have some problems, but that is not one of them. If anything, it seems like the more the world is falling apart around us, the more desperate I am to cling on to him in any way I can.
That’s probably not good, either. But I’m not going to worry about it now.
Cade drags us both into the stall, closes and locks the door with a click, and then shoves me against it. I bounce off the surface a little, raising my eyebrows at him.
“That’s how it’s going to be?” I ask.
Cade doesn’t reply. Instead, he makes a show of looking me up and down, licking his lip before biting it and giving me a slow, sensual nod.
“I could hear you guys while I was waiting at the bar. Tristan was right, you know,” I say, reaching out to touch his cheek like Tristan did before, but with a very, very different purpose. “You look fucking phenomenal. I want to make you cry it all off. Does that make me sick?”
I’m mostly teasing, but there may be a slight undercurrent of concern there. I’m aware that we go hard, sometimes. A part of me worries it’s too hard. But we’re both into it, and I know Cadewould always tell me if he wasn’t into something, so fuck it. I guess we keep going until something happens to change either my desire to make this boy fucking wrecked, or his desire to get it.
“Maybe it makes us both sick,” Cade says, voicing exactly what I was just thinking.
There’s no time to reply, though, because he falls to his knees with an eager smile and absolutely attacks my fly. I’m half-hard already from the proximity to him when he’s like this. He has no difficulty finding my cock, pulling me out and then immediately inhaling it like he’s been waiting all night for this moment.
It’s overwhelming. The soft, wet heat of him. I let my head loll back until it thunks against the door, taking a deep breath as Cade ravages me.
But like always, it’s not enough. My fingers wind through his hair, tugging and pulling sweet little noises out of him that garble around my cock. I tug harder and harder, rolling my hips until I’m pushing deeper into his mouth.
Cade goes a little slack; still sitting up and working over my cock, but softer for me.
An image pops into my head, and I can’t resist.
With a single fluid movement, I pull myself out of Cade’s mouth and spin us around, until he’s on his knees but pinned between me and the door. When I sink back in this time, his head is leaning back into the surface.
I crowd over him, slowly pumping myself in and out of his mouth, letting him acclimate to the new position and how restricted he is. The only things he can really move are his hands, which he brings to the back of my thighs at first, before his fingertips crawl up and grab the edge of my back pockets as something to cling to.
Heat curls in my stomach, and I reach down to grab him gently by the throat. If I drop my shoulder, I can reach him from theside, and while my fingers don’t wrap all the way around, it’s enough to hold him still and put pressure if I want to.
Slowly, inch by inch, I push into his mouth until he starts to choke. I stroke my thumb over the tender flesh it’s covering, and then I squeeze, choking him there, too. A few seconds pass as Cade’s muscles tighten, his eyes start to water and his skin turns red, then I release.
I pull myself all the way out of his mouth and look down, checking how he’s responding. Cade is gazing up at me through wet eyelashes, eyeliner smudging and his face going blotchy.
The expression on his face is making me feel drunk. I don’t even know what it is. Devotion?
