Page 102 of These Pucking Boys

I zoom out of his apartment before I succumb to Ryan’s charms and forget baking all together. He’s been acting sweeter and more relaxed since he opened up to me. Maybe he’s beginning to trust me. I don’t take the elevator, instead opting for the stairs. I’m eager to get this chore over with so I can move on to sexy times. It’s funny how I could go for weeks, even months, without thinking about sex when I was dating Bill. Now, I’m turned on every time I think about the guys, which is often.

I left the dry ingredients on the counter. I just need to pack everything and grab stuff from the fridge. I notice that Winston’s water bowl is empty, so I grab it to fill it up first. But when I turn on the faucet, water sprays in all directions, drenching me in seconds.

“What the hell!”

I try to shut it off, but the damn thing is broken. I try to contain the spray with a dish towel, but it barely does a thing. I should have known something would go wrong. I went too long without any disasters in my life.

Winston runs over, and jumps excitedly, thinking this is all play. But all he’s doing is making more of a mess. “No, Winston.” I pick him up and put him in his crate. “I’ll let you out soon. Promise.”

I run back to the kitchen and drop into a crouch to check under the sink. The first order of business is to shut off the water supply. I locate the valve, but it’s old and rusty, and it doesn’t budge.

“Oh come on.”

The hissing from the water jet gets louder. That towel is about to give. I probably didn’t tie it hard enough.

“Peaches, I came to ask—” Ryan says from the front door.

“Help!”

“Oh shit.” He runs over and drops next to me. “Scooch. Let me shut off the water.”

“I was trying, but it’s stuck.”

Naturally, Ryan and his bulging muscles have no problem turning the valve. “There. Done.”

I spring to my feet. “What a mess. I need to clean this up.”

He unfurls from his crouch and stares at me, sporting a grin.

“What?” I ask.

Holding my stare, he runs his fingertips across my collarbone, eliciting a throaty moan from me. “Your clothes are soaked through.”

I’m wearing a white button-down shirt that’s now see-through. Okay. I’m no longer thinking about mopping the floor. “My clothes aren’t the only things that are wet.”

He reaches for the back of my head and twists a lock of my hair around his fist. But instead of kissing me as I thought he would, he tilts my head back and runs his hot tongue over the column of my neck.

“Ryan...”

He keeps going south over the fabric until he finds my nipple and sucks it into his mouth, hard. My legs turn into jelly, and my knees almost buckle. Carefully, I grab his arms, needing the support to stay upright. Ryan takes my hand and guides it to his rock-hard erection while giving attention to my nipple.

“Feel how hard I am for you already, Peaches,” he whispers against my feverish skin.

“I want to taste you, Ryan.” I step back and, keeping eye contact, drop to my knees.

I unzip his pants, loving how smoldering his gaze is. He grabs my hair again, and when I suck his cock into my mouth, he tugs a little.

“Peaches, I love your mouth on me.”

I take my time savoring Ryan, sucking his length until it hits the back of my throat, and toying with the sensitive head. He grunts, pulling my hair harder until it hurts. The pain spurs me on. He starts to move, thrusting his hips forward.

“Fuck, Peaches. You suck me so good.”

I’m lost in the moment, getting more and more aroused by watching Ryan lose control. His lips are parted, and his eyes are hooded.

“Fuck, Peaches,” Mrs. Carpenter’s parrot says suddenly, and I freeze.

Ryan whips his face to the parrot’s cage. “Oh no.”

---