Page 8 of Flash

“Shit, are you okay?” Arrow pushes his glass of water towards me and puts his large, warm hand on my back, rubbing soothing circles right between my shoulder blades.

I take a careful sip of the offered water, then nod.

“Yeah, just had the hangover from hell and my body is obviously refusing to live through a repeat tomorrow.” I grab a napkin and wipe my mouth, then push my drink far enough away that I won’t accidentally sip any more of it. “And about the whole not calling thing…” I tug my bottom lip between my teeth and weigh the truth in my head. Of course I wanted to call him, but all I could think about was how embarrassingly needy I was when we hooked up.

“Just… make me feel like I’m special, okay? You don’t have to mean it…”

Ugh, stupid, horny Past Lewis has no chill and absolutely no dignity and I’m the one forced to always face the humiliation of it.

I give Arrow a tight smile that I hope he takes as the apology it’s meant as.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, holding up a hand to wave the whole thing off. “I get it. Just because I spent a whole month jerking off to the memory of the face you made when you came all over my cock and wondering why you tasted like cherries, doesn’t mean I crossed your mind.”

Heat flashes through me and my breath stalls in my throat. I nod rapidly. Yes, I thought of you. Yes, I definitely spent too many nights with my hand on my dick remembering the feeling of your body and the rasp of your breathing in my ear.

But, fuck, Arrow has ‘trouble’ written all over him. I’ve been with guys like him before. I’ve fallen for every sexy, badass, big-dick-energy asshole in the Midwest, and my heart is still tender from the last few pricks who used it as a hacky sack.

My brain and my dick battle it out for a minute or two while I stare at him, my hand on his thigh even though I can’t remember putting it there, his eyes boring right back into mine.

Fuck it.

“Come on.” I grab his hand and haul him off his stool.

He doesn’t argue, just abandons his drink and lets me lead him down the dimly lit hallway. I’m not sure what I’m looking for—maybe a supply closet. It sounds cliché, but it’s preferable to a public bathroom. Yuck. I slowly push open the first door we come across and peek inside. The lights are off, but enough comes in from the hallway that I can see there’s a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. I’m guessing it’s the owner’s office, and since he’s not using it at the moment, let’s hope he’s generous enough not to mind us borrowing it for a few minutes.

I stifle a laugh, feeling like a rebellious teenager as I drag Arrow inside and press my back up against the door, facing him with a smile in the darkness. There’s a quiet click and a light comes on, illuminating the gorgeous man towering over me. He pulls his hand back from the light switch and hooks it behind my neck.

A beat of silence passes between us, nothing but the uneven sound of our breathing and the distant, muffled music playing. His fingers twitch against the back of my neck, and I dart my tongue out to wet my dry lips. His eyes follow the movement, his pupils dilate, and something between us snaps.

I part my lips greedily as he slams his mouth into mine. His body is hot and solid, and the smell of motor oil and lavender antiseptic tickles my nose, reigniting the memories of our sweaty bodies writhing against each other while a flash storm raged outside. A moan vibrates on my tongue and my hard cock throbs against his thick thigh as he shoves it between my legs and pins me to the door.

I grab a handful of his t-shirt while he tightens his grip on the back of my neck and braces his other hand against the wall. Our tongues tangle around quiet moans, and our lips fall into a dizzying, hungry rhythm.

Well, damn, this day is finally looking up.

ARROW

The last thing I expected was to bump into Lewis at Wooley’s tonight. Sure, the first week or two after we hooked up and he never called, I came in here a little more than usual hoping he might be here. But eventually I gave up, figuring he wasn’t the bar type, or that maybe he just didn’t like Wooley’s in particular. I thought I was imagining things for a minute when I actually spotted him tonight.

I didn’t claim the seat next to him hoping to get my hands on him again though.

Oh, who am I kidding? Of fucking course I did.

I grunt as his tongue snakes around mine and his sweet cherry flavor floods my senses. He grinds against my thigh and my cock throbs, pressing so hard into my zipper that I’ll be surprised if I don’t have an imprint from it later.

My pulse thunders in my ears as our lips move ravenously against each other, my hands sliding under his shirt to skate across the warm planes of his skin. He’s soft as a goddamn flower petal, and Jag’s teasing words from the other day about breakable twinks ring in my head. My fingers twitch and dig in harder, finding purchase against his ribcage. He moans into my mouth again. That’s Jaguar’s miscalculation. Delicate doesn’t mean fragile, and he should know that better than anyone.

Lewis sucks my lip between his teeth and bites down, then drags his tongue along the bruised flesh to soothe it, sinking his fingers into my hair and swiveling his hips to hump my thigh. I shove it more firmly between his legs and growl against his mouth.

I break the kiss and gulp down a few breaths to steady the spinning in my head. He blinks at me in a daze, his cheeks flushed and his lips just as damp and swollen as I left them last time. My cock gives another eager lurch and my balls tighten.

“You know, we could get caught in here, and that would be pretty damn embarrassing,” I warn him with a chuckle, bumping my nose against his. Am I angling for him to suggest we go back to his place or mine? Maybe a little.

“Shh.” He laughs, using his grip on the front of my shirt to pull me closer again until our lips are less than an inch apart. “No one is going to come in here in the next five minutes, so hurry up and make it count.”

I let out a rough chuckle, sliding one hand under his shirt to soak in the warmth of his skin. “Ten,” I bargain, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Deal,” he rasps, pulling me right back into a kiss.

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