I adjusted myself, trying my hardest to seem casual and hide the fact I was still semi hard from Cal.
“Si!” Lena waved and barged in. She sat on the side of the couch closest to me. “Perfect! You can start watching it with us! It’s so good! You gotta pick a team though. I love Jeremiah. Conrad reminds me too much of Cal.”
Cal looked at me. I looked at him. The moment was dead. And I guess we were now having a binge watch night with his adopted daughter.
The frustration was building to the point of a physical fucking ache. It was a constant thrumming in my veins.
It had been three days. Three fucking days since Lena showed up wanting to watch some random ass show with us. I didn’t mind her company, she was great. but fuck, I really just wanted to get Cal alone again.
We were in a rental car, driving from Cleveland to Columbus. Lena was asleep in the backseat, her headphones on, totally dead to the world.
Cal’s hand had drifted from the gearshift to my thigh. His thumb rubbed slow, deliberate circles against the denim, creeping higher. Dangerously close to my cock,which was already trying to twitch with excitement in the tight confines of the jeans.
I stared out the window at the passing highway, biting my lip, trying not to make a sound. It was agony.
We stopped at a rest area. Lena woke up groggily and ran inside for drinks, snacks, and a bathroom break.
“I’ll meet you inside,” I told her.
I followed Cal toward the men’s bathrooms. But instead of going inside the main restroom, he trapped my arm and pulled me toward an accessible bathroom with a locking door.
We ducked into it quickly. He didn’t speak. He pushed me against the concrete block wall and kissed me, hard, wet, and messy.
Usually, he was the one in control. But the frustration snapped something in me. I couldn’t take the teasing anymore.
I grabbed his wrist and guided his hand down. I pressed his palm firmly against the growing bulge in my jeans.
“Touch me,” I ordered, my voice rough.
Cal’s eyes widened slightly, surprised by the command. I never took charge like this. And clearly, it turned him on.
He grinned, dark and wicked. He unzipped me, slipping his warm hand inside my boxers. He worked me fast and hard, his other hand covering my mouth to stifle my moans. It was risky. Anyone could walk by.
“You want me so bad, don’t you?” Cal taunted, his breath hot against my ear. “You want me to fuck you? I bet you’d let me right here, wouldn’t you? Up against this dirty sink?”
“Fuck, Cal,” I gasped, hips bucking into his hand.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he said low.
“I—I want you to fuck me,” I stammered, my head falling back against the tiles. “I want you inside of me, please.”
“Mm,” Cal hummed, not stopping the rhythm of his hand. “You’ve made me wait seven years, Si. I think you can survive until we get to a hotel.”
I came with a muffled cry into his hand, my knees buckling, shuddering against him.
He cleaned us up quickly, kissed my forehead, and walked out like nothing happened.
A few hours later, we were at the airport, waiting to board a flight to New York for a connection.
My phone buzzed.
I can’t get the image of you cumming on my hand out of my mind.
I looked across from me. Cal was in a seat, staring at his phone, totally unphased by the message he just sent.
You’re terrible.
I’m starved. It’s been days, Si. I want you. I want to fuck you until you’re crying and screaming my name like you used to.
