— IOLA, MATCHMAKING MAMA
Maverick
I flickedthrough the clothes in my closet, not really vibing with anything I saw. If I kept up this dating thing, I was going to need more clothes. Although, it was already getting old.
This was why I’d given up in the past. Bad date after bad date. It was disappointing, sure, but also exhausting. I had only so much energy and enthusiasm to go around, and I’d rather spend it on making my first business a success and quality time with my mom and my friends.
Not angsting over whether my turquoise shirt would bring out the blue in my eyes, or whether my green stretchy jeans that molded to my ass and thighs made me look hot ordesperate.
The Mamas told me the new date they’d selected, Gordon, was really excited to meet me. But I wasn’t sure I really wanted to keep doing this. So, whatever. Who cared what Gordon thought of my outfit?
Or Damon. He’ll surely be watching when you leave…
Maybe. Damon had been keeping his distance since I gave him that sex toy as a prank. Seeing his reaction had been glorious. But he hadn’t been able to look me in the eye since then. Either I’d really embarrassed him with the suggestion he use it, or…
He’d actually used it.
My stomach did an excited somersault. I huffed. The point of giving him that toy wasnotto picture him using it, but my mind was not cooperating. As I turned on the shower and stepped under the spray, the picture of Damon spread out on his bed, dick hard as he pressed that toy between his legs was already forming in my mind.
Damn it. Now, I was hard. I didn’t have time for this. I gave my dick a couple of tugs to settle it down, but the heat under my skin only built to a more insistent blaze. With a groan of frustration, I grabbed some body wash and started jerking my cock in slow, easy strokes while my mind conjured all sorts of dirty pictures of my next-door neighbor taking his first dildo for a test drive.
“Fuck,” I muttered as the pleasure built. “I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t…”
I stroked faster, lowering my left hand to roll my balls. Lightning arced between pleasure points, and I bit my bottom lip to hold in my cry as my cock erupted in my hand.
I gasped and shook, the orgasm stronger than usual for a simple jerkoff session. But then it hadn’t been usual, had it? Damon had gotten under my skin, but that was going to leadnowhere good. Wasn’t like he was going to let me fuck him, even if he had enjoyed that toy.
And that was a big if.
I finished soaping up, rinsed, and got out of the shower to dress and shave. My hot pink hair looked pretty good with the turquoise of my shirt. I guess I’d chosen well after all. Gordon should like what he sees. Which was good, because I needed to get Damon out of my head.
Unless this date went catastrophically wrong, I was going to give Gordon the green light. I had to squash this obsession with my neighbor in its tracks.
The doorbell rang as I was putting on my shoes.
I hopped up from the bed to answer the front door. The sound of a mower filtered in as I did. Shit. I hadn’t paid any attention to the ambient noise in the background, but sure enough, Damon was mowing the lawn.
Gordon stood before me, looking like a guy who was hot and knew it. He leaned a forearm against the doorframe, pulling his snug red polo even tighter over his pecs.
“Well, I can’t say I’m too sad about this matchup,” he murmured, gaze sweeping up and down my body as his lips curled up at the corner.
Oh, this guy was smooth, wasn’t he? His tousled brown hair had the perfect amount ofbedheadto give him a sexy vibe, the stubble on his jaw an artistic shading rather than the scrubby state Damon was usually in, and his clothes tailored to outline every muscle in his gym-honed body.
Granville was a small town, so I knew Gordon worked at the bank, but we hadn’t ever run in the same circles.
He was attractive, but a little too slick to be my usual type. But the matchmaking pool of queer guys was dwindling fast.
“You sure you want to go out?” he continued. “We could skip dinner and drinks and just stay in.”
“We could, but I wouldn’t want all the effort I put into picking out this date outfit to go to waste.”
The mower cut off. I flicked my gaze over Gordon’s shoulder and almost swallowed my tongue. Damon was always gorgeous, and I’d mostly learned to ignore it. But it was extra difficult when he was wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts, sweat slicking his skin and highlighting the swell of his pecs and the ripple of his abs.
Gordon grinned at me, eyes smoldering. “I promise I’ll appreciate every stitch as I strip it off.”
Damon came up to the porch’s edge. “Are you serious right now?”
Gordon half-turned toward him. “Can I help you?”
