Page 46 of Employing Patience

He leans into my touch like a love-starved kitten.

“You really want to do this?” I ask, voice low.

He doesn’t answer, just reaches for my fly.

I suck in a breath, watching, waiting, dying to know if he’s going to chicken out or jump right in, and even I’m torn on which way I want this to go.

On one hand, all that flirting has given me a Pavlovian response to him.

On the other hand, him being straight would be a lot easier to believe if he actually stayed fucking straight.

The ziiiiip of my fly is loud enough that I can hear it over the beating in my ears. Joey sucks in a deep breath that makes his lungs expand, making him sound as nervous as I feel.

Which is wild.

Because I don’t get nervous. Especially not over sex.

But there’s one giant elephant between us, straining in his direction, and I’m just waiting to see if he’s actually going to acknowledge it or not.

Am I calling his bluff? Is he calling mine?

It’s the hottest game of chicken I’ve ever been involved with, and my dick’s so hard it could chop wood. But the moment Joey curls his fingers into the waistband of my underwear, my hand slaps down over his.

His gaze snaps up to mine, and the uncertainty I was sure I could sense comes through loud and clear. Disappointment crashes around me, and I swallow hard, knowing this is right but wishing things could go literally any other way.

I’m almost shaking with want. His lips are right there. Parted, wet, like he’s run his tongue over them, and the idea that they could be stretched around my cock right now is too much. I move his hand away.

“No,” I say.

Joey’s uncertainty disappears as his eyes narrow. “No?”

“You don’t want this.”

“Are you kidding me? Who the hell are you to tell me what I want?”

I push my chair back and stand, pulling my fly up with me as I turn my back on him. “It’s all over your face. You’re terrified.”

“Yeah, because I’ve never sucked cock before. Not because I don’t want to.”

That gives me pause.

“You know what?” Joey bursts. Without turning to him, I can tell he’s shoved to his feet. “Fuck you. All this time, you’ve been acting like I’ve been messing with you, but what about my feelings? Are you honestly that much of a dick that you’ve been playing with me to prove you could? Well, congrats, Art. You can land the straight boy. I hope you’re feeling happy with yourself.”

“You’re pissed I said no?” I turn around with a frown. “There are no laws I have to have sex with you.”

The son of a bitch actually rolls his eyes at me. “I don’t need a lesson on consent, thanks. If you don’t want to have sex with me, that’s one thing. But you acting like you’re saying no for me? Well, fuck you very much. I can speak for myself. You don’t get to act like some kind of savior.” He takes an angry step closer so his face is right next to mine. “I would have sucked your dick, and I would have loved every second of it.”

He turns on his heel, making a beeline for the door, and I watch him as I round my desk, his words echoing in my head.

I’d stopped him because I thought it was right. I didn’t want him to go through with this, regret it, and then … hate me. I didn’t want Joey to hate me. Which is maybe the first time ever that I’ve acknowledged I actually give a shit about what he thinks.

I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. Except him.

I hate it. The fact that maybe I didn’t stop him because he wasn’t sure.

I stopped him because I wasn’t.

“Wait,” I say as his hand finds the door handle. My heart is beating out an erratic rhythm, and I’m off-balance enough that I need to rest my ass against my desk to stay standing. To stay in control. I inhale long and deep, grounding myself, reminding myself this is only sex.

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