“I’ll pass.”
He grins at me. Even when he’s down, Orlando keeps his sense of humor.
We go on stretching in familiar silence. It’s funny to realize that he’s noticed how busy I keep myself. He wouldn’t know it, but I usually relax at the end of the day with either a game on the TV or a spy novel. With everything happening at the agency, though, and the emotions that stir up whenever I’m around Orlando, I haven’t given myself any real downtime.
Except for moments like this, that is. Just stretching with him, everything nice and quiet but our breathing and the squeak of our bodies on the mats.
Orlando leans back, spreading his legs wider. “Kind of silly the doctors say I can’t do anything more than this, though. Considering some of the things I have to do every day are way more intense.”
I wrinkle my brow. “Like what?”
“Like I jerk off every day. That’s more exertion than light stretching.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be jerking off then.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Seriously?” Orlando leans forward, deepening his stretch. “Perma-boners would be stressful. That’s not good either.” He eases back again, putting his full bulge on display for me.
I snort air out my nose. “I’m sure you can handle the discomfort.”
Orlando grins. He nods my way, eyeing me between the legs, and heat rushes through me.
“You’ve been thinking about it,” he says. “I know you have.”
“Of course I’ve been thinking about it. Goddamn. But you aren’t cleared for that yet.”
Orlando winks. “I know,” he says. “It’s like you’re forbidden in a whole new way. But we’re good at working around the rules.”
I swallow. The desire to touch him rises up in me like a tidal wave, and my core rumbles in anticipation of it crashing down.
We’re used to getting each other off once a week, but Sunday has passed. It’s not just built-up lust that rises in me. When Orlando flirts, he seems like his old self, his energy sparking.
The look in his eyes gives me permission to admit how much I’ve been craving this.
To bend another rule, maybe, if that’s what we need.
“You jerk off yet today?” I ask him.
Orlando lets out a groan at the question. He palms his dick, now fully hard in his sweatpants. “Not yet.”
I grab my cock. When I give my erection a squeeze, Orlando responds, stroking himself across from me.
“No touching each other,” I tell him. “Quick and dirty.”
“Dirty,” Orlando says and pushes his pants and underwear down to his thighs, freeing his beautiful dick. It’s flush and hard, twitching against his olive skin. “I like that.”
I grind my teeth as I pull my dick out, too. Locking eyes with Orlando, I spit in my palm and stroke my length.
He leans forward, matching my rhythm. “Tell me a dirty story.”
Damn, do I ever want to grab him.
“A dirty story,” I say as my eyes roam his body, drinking in his toned muscles and glowing skin with every beat of my fist.
“About us,” Orlando says. He leans forward and spits, saliva plopping from his mouth to his cock and beating fist. His other arm is in the sling, and he stops jerking long enough to rub his balls, palming them hard before dragging his hand back up to his dick.
I let out something that’s half grunt, half gasp. My imagination reaches for something to say, but pleasure quakes through me, stealing my breath.
Orlando eggs me on. “Tell me where you’d fuck me in a baseball field,” he says and pushes his hand back over his balls and down toward his ass, teasing his hole. “If I were going to let you put your big dick in me.”
