RYAN
I don't usually work Saturdays. In fact, Savage Ink isn't typically open on Saturdays, but we've had an influx of customers since the art show asking about my work and wanting to get booked in. So, I had to agree to take on a few clients today, which I'm entirely regretting right now. I wanted to spend the morning wrapped up in Drew's arms, maybe even impaled on that beautiful big cock of his.
My ass gives a twinge of discomfort at that thought. He really did a number on me last night, and I think I will be feeling the after-effects of him taking all this time apart out on my ass last night.
I do not regret. Ten out of ten. I highly recommend.
I may not be ready to move back in and play happy families with Drew yet, but I sure as shit am ready for another roll in the hay, so to speak. Last night was better than I ever could have imagined. Our chemistry and passion roared to the surface just as hot as it always had been, and we both burned up in the process. Fuck, I'm feeling all poetic this morning. Guess that's what a good dicking down will do to you.
I sent out a mass text to the guys about this game night, as Drew suggested. It didn't seem like the idea had come to him on the spot, so I have to wonder if it's part of his Master Wooing plan he keeps referring to. I'm not going to lie, it's totally working.
Throughout the day, I get responses from pretty much everybody, all agreeing to meet at Drew’s place at seven-thirty P.M, which gives me thirty minutes alone with him before they all descend upon us like vultures scavenging for food in the desert. Whenever we had them over in the past, they practically ate the cupboard doors. I drop Drew a quick text in between clients.
Me:Hey, the guys will be over around 7.30 pm. I'll see you at 7pm.
Drew:I’ll see you then, sweetheart, and don't worry. I’ll order extra pizza and wings this time #lessonlearned.
I can’t hide the massive smile that creeps across my face as I read his reply. Clearly, he remembers how much these guys can eat.
Pulling up outside the house that was my home a few short weeks ago feels almost surreal but with a sense of normalcy. It's already five minutes past seven, and I don't want to waste any more of the limited amount of time that we will have alone. Rushing out of the car and up to the door, I pause. I don't have a key anymore, and the realization makes me frown as I knock.
Drew doesn't make me wait long before he pulls open the door, wearing dark denim jeans that are molding to his thighs and dark navy henley that stretches over the understated muscles in his arms. God, he's sexy.
"Hey Cap, you miss me?" I ask, stepping inside. Without hesitating, I throw my arms around his neck and pull him in for a sloppy kiss. Right there at the door. I'm starting to think I have a kink for this hallway because I'm instantly hard. A throat clears somewhere behind us, and I groan loudly as he pulls back, pressing his forehead to mine with a sigh of his own.
“Pete, could you give us a mo…” His words get cut off as Pete slings an arm around us both, pulling us into a group hug, forcing my still-hard cock to brush against Drew’s as he proclaims in a wistful tone.
“Aww, I love seeing you guys all happy again.”
Clearing my throat I pull my hips back from Drew, willing my erection to go down as I look at Pete's beaming face.
“Hey Pete, you’re here. Early.”
"Pft, I only left for the game night supplies. This guy needed all of the help. Did you know he's never played Pictionary before? But never fear, Pete is here."
He proudly swings his arms open, showing me the large whiteboard he has set up on one of the easels from my art room with ‘Team One’ and ‘Team Two’ written across the top in red marker. My eyes flick back to Drew, and he just shrugs one shoulder at me like Pete’s level of excitement for game night is completely normal. I guess in Pete’s world, this is normal. The guy definitely lives in his own world most of the time.
Like his outfit, these pink patterned Aladdin-style silk pants and a plain black button-down could be matched only in Pete’s world. I kind of feel underdressed with my simple white v-neck and worn-out jeans.
“So, Pictionary, huh?” I ask, walking into the living room to see what else he has laid out on the table for us. “You do realize the guys from the shop are artists, right? Might have a slight advantage over you and Mr. Stickman with a dick over here,” I say with a wink as I point my thumb back at Drew.
“Ahh, but the teams will be predetermined by yours truly, and I will have you know I’m an awesome artist.” He grins as he bends down to grab the stack of cards on the table before blowing his messy curls out of his face as he hands them to me.
"How are your acting skills, Mr. Artist? Because mine are fabulous," he adds emphasis with jazz hands to really drive the point home. I can't help but smile because Pete really is a force of his own, and I love him for it. I can already tell he's going to drive Gavin's surly ass crazy, and it's going to be the highlight of my week.
CHAPTER 16
DREW
My eyes greedily feast on Ryan as he heads into the living room to see what Pete has set up for the evening. It’s only been a few hours since I waved him off earlier, but fuck, I’ve missed him. Undoubtedly, if it weren’t for Pete still being here, that kiss would have led to sexy, fun times. Why am I having this stupid game night? Can’t I just cancel and chase Ryan naked around the house? That sounds like a way better game.
“Dude, you did this all by yourself?” Ryan’s impressed tone snaps me out of my daydream, and I finally follow him into the living room, a laugh bubbling out as Pete preens under the compliment by doing a curtsy.
Clearly, he knew I wouldn't be the one organizing any kind of successful party. Fuck game night had been Pete's idea from the night of my sleepover at Val's. I'm pretty sure he has been planning this night since. Without Pete, I could probably throw together a poker night. I definitely owe him big time for this. Ryan is buzzing with excitement as Pete shows him the scoreboard and the little name tags he made for everybody.
“And what are those?” Ry asks, pointing at the two T-shirts draped over the back of the couch, one bright Big Bird yellow and the other Barbie pink.
"Those, my friend, are the team captain's jerseys. Here, one for you and one for Drew." He says proudly, lifting one up to hold against his chest so we can read what's emblazoned on the front.
