Page 187 of Ride With Me

God, the need to know him was almost as overwhelming as the anticipation.

We neared the city limits, then passed them until we were back on the open road, hardly a car coming our way.

By now being half naked didn’t even feel weird anymore, especially when Kaden’s gaze flickered over every so often, or his hands snuck another taste.

Suddenly he pulled over to the side, and I stared at him, confused until he said, “Get out of the car and crawl onto the backseat.”

Well… Shit.

Kaden

Rhodes’affliction for public action was incredibly hot, but absolutely not the reason why I pulled over when I did.

No, that was the pure selfish need to taste more of him, to feel more of him.

Three days and I could barely resist throwing him against a wall or down on a bed to take him. I wanted my cock buried so deep in him, he’d never want anyone else close to him.

And he was so damn responsive.

I watched him crawl into the backseat, ass pushed toward me, shirt discarded. He was trembling like a leave in the down, his cock hard between his legs, pre-cum glistening on the tip.

He might have been wary of what was to come, but the trust he had in me…

Fuck my life, I didn’t deserve that trust.

I didn’t deserve him. Period.

“Kaden?” His voice was small because I clearly had hesitated too long.

I swallowed, glad that my voice was rough because I could make it appear as if I was just too turned on.

Not too fucked up.

“You are gorgeous, and I want to… I’m going to do something I’ve been wanting to do to you forever.”

Before he could ask—and I could tell he wanted to—I’d spread his cheeks and softly blew on his pink hole.

He whimpered, and I tried to remember what it had felt like the first time someone had rimmed me.

The first time someone had pushed a finger into me.

“Red,” I forced out. We probably should have been doing that from the start, but we really didn’t do anything that warranted a safe word.

“What?” he gasped.

I reached over and pulled his head up on his hair and softly turned it until he was looking at me, his cheeks deeply flushed. “You need a safe word for when I do anything you don’t want me to do. Red. That’s it. Say that and I stop, no questions asked, no upsetting anyone. This needs to be safe for you.”

And I cared way too much about how much it mattered to him.

“I trust you,” he replied, and it was there, in his eyes.

I believed him. “You can,” I said, meaning it, even if I realized I should be getting away from him before I’d claim him for myself.

Selfishly claim him because the two of us could never work out long-term.

I let go of his hair, then returned to what I had started. I kissed first one cheek, then the other, hearing a car pass by, but Rhodes didn’t even react to it.

Before he could think too much—and he did, if the tensioning of his shoulders was an indicator—I swept my tongue over his hole and it fluttered.

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