“Good as anytime. Once I tell him you’re Mack’s kid, I’m sure he’ll have some stories.”
Caesar turns to walk toward the back, but I jump forward quick and grab his hand. “Wait.”
His hand closes over mine, and neither of us let go.
“What if you don’t tell him I’m Mack’s kid?” I ask.
“You don’t want any more stories about your old man?”
“It’s not that.” I shake my head, not sure how to explain. “Can I just be Drew instead?”
Caesar’s face softens into a smile. “Yeah, sure.” He squeezes my hand. “Come on, Drew.”
CHAPTERNINETEEN
CAESAR
I laymy hand on the back of Drew’s head and gently guide him as I rock my hips. I’ve been working him open for a good hour, and he’s finally taking all of me, just like he demanded.
Every night he spends here, we go deeper with each other. I fuck him slow and fast, and when I think he’s worn out, he teases me, and we go at it again.
Like now. It’s late in the morning on a Friday, and I’ve been fighting off this orgasm so long, my balls feel like two hot coals, burning for relief.
Drew thrust his hips back. “Fuck. Oh Caesar. Fuck.” His voice comes out in needy gasps as he writhes against the bed.
I shove my hand under his body, then grip his dick. With my other hand, I guide him, thrusting against his spot harder and harder, desperate to make him erupt.
His perfect body shakes, trembles building as he calls out my name. He’s so fucking beautiful. I release his hip and plunge into him, deep, then fall forward as I pull his face to me.
“Caesar,” Drew gasps. His face is broken open with need as I thrust into him, hard.
He calls my name again, and I growl his, and the world finally explodes. I fill him with cum as he licks my face and orgasms in my fist.
“Fuck yeah,” I grunt and pull him into my arms.
We pant together for a while. Then I clean him up, and he ends up cleaning me, too. I try to drag Drew into the shower, but he resists, and when I get out, he’s used the time to whip together a big breakfast, pancake batter on the stove and fried eggs and shit I didn’t even know was in the fridge.
I’ve had a few days like this now, spent with Drew. It makes everything move easier when he’s around, like my tattoo needle is light and steady.
It’s far too easy to get used to this.
I sit back after breakfast, looking at him across the kitchen table. Drew has been picking my brain about old sci-fi movies, one of the rare topics I’m happy to talk about at length, and he’s making a list of ones he wants me to show him.
He even knows my collection, since the little shit moved all my stuff around.
I study his arm, drawing my eyes across the ink. It’s bright and bold, just like I wanted it, and the skin is healed.
When I look up to Drew again, he has a playful smile on his face. I don’t have any appointments today, and I could happily spend it fucking around with him. But I start thinking about how good it feels to have him here and the fact that he’s going to leave.
“Come on,” I say with a nod. “Let’s finish that tattoo up in the studio, huh?”
Drew blinks. “Right now?”
He’s wearing one of my old Blade T-shirts, and he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days, so his stubble is growing out a bit. But he went back to grab some things from his place, so he has his own clothes, too, a smart pair of gray shorts and sharp teal socks.
“I don’t have any appointments coming up the next few days. We’ll ink you and give you a day to rest. Then I can give you a ride back.” I stand. “Don’t need you taking the bus.”
Drew furrows his brow. “To Indiana? Like, you’d drive to my hometown?”
