Page 80 of Virgin Skin

“I hate to be the kind of boyfriend who tells you what to wear, but I have a feeling you might get a little cold at the skating rink in just a jockstrap.”

He told me he loves me a week ago, I’ve lost track of how many nights I’ve spent in his bed now, and just this morning he sucked my dick until I swear I almost found religion, but hearing him refer to himself as my boyfriend just about sends me into fucking orbit. An entire flock of butterflies takes flight in my stomach, and I have to physically shake my head like an Etch A Sketch to reboot my brain before I manage to remember how words work.

“Yes, but I’m dressed just right formypreferred date activity.” I waggle my eyebrows.

He barks out a laugh and steps closer, erasing the space between us. His hands find their way onto my bare ass cheeks,the swell of his cock meeting mine through the rough denim of his jeans.

“I’m giving you the perfect date if I have to drag you out of the house kicking and screaming in your underwear,” he says, nipping playfully at my bottom lip.

I groan and grab the front of his sweater.

“Kinky.” I smirk, brushing my lips against his in an almost kiss. “You know tonight is going to be perfect whether we order pizza and fuck on the living room floor, or you take me out on some big, romantic date and then fuck me on a bed of roses, right?”

“I’m sensing a common theme.” He kneads my ass cheeks, pulling me flush against his sturdy body.

I grin and nod. “Smart man.”

I’ve been happy to take things slow and enjoy each new experience with him so far. Especially when those experiences have largely included his fingers doing glorious, mind-bending things to me. But I’m ready now. I am so fucking ready and I’m pretty sure that if I have to wait much longer to have him inside me—really,reallyinside me—I might actually die.

“Okay, here’s an idea.” My voice trembles with impatience and need, my cock fully hard and my nipples sensitive as they drag against the soft fabric of his shirt. “You fuck me first,andthenyou take me on a date. It’s a win-win.”

“No way. We’ve done everything else ass backward. I’m doing this part the right way,” he says firmly, giving my ass one more squeeze and pressing a hard kiss to my lips before letting me go. “Now, I’m going to walk out of this room and close the door before you can actually talk me into fucking you on the floor, and when I knock again in five minutes, you’d better be dressed.”

My eyebrows fly up and I smirk. “Yes, Da—”

He slaps his hand over my mouth before I can get the rest of the word out. I laugh and then lick his palm. Piston snorts andwipes his damp hand on his jeans before leaving the room just like he promised.

I stand in my jock, absently caressing my cock and toying with the idea of being evenmorenaked when he knocks again. He definitely implied that he could be swayed to fuck me if I keep pushing, but it’s not what he wants… and I guess if I’m listening to the stuff buried underneath my horny thoughts, it’s not what I want either.

The very first time Piston fucks me will only happen once. It won’t kill me to wait a few extra hours so he can make it special for me.

I force my hand off of my cock and finish getting dressed. I’m buttoning my jeans by the time he knocks again. I do one last quick glance in the mirror, drag my fingers through my hair, then hurry to answer the door again.

This time Piston is standing on the other side with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and my jacket in the other.

“Oh my god, these are gorgeous.” I take the flowers from him and run my index finger along one of the silky petals.

“Lewis helped me pick them out,” he says with a shy smile.

“I love them.” I take a deep breath of the floral scent then set them on top of the dresser just inside my bedroom. When I turn back to Piston, he’s holding my jacket out. I take it and notice there’s something different about it. “Oh, I think this one is yours.” I hold it open to show him that there’s a patch on the back.

He shakes his head and turns it back around for me. Instead of just saying “Ink Slingers” like his, it says “Property of the Ink Slingers.”

“Well, that’s offensive,” I scoff playfully. “Thank you.” I grin and slip it on. “But once I have my own bike again, I fully expect this patch to be changed.”

“Hmm, well, that would be a club decision, so I guess we’ll just have to see.”

“Ass,” I mutter, and he slaps mine playfully.

I squeal and Piston chuckles, reaching for my hand and tangling his fingers around mine. Cy and the babies are curled up on the couch in the living room. She’s watching Quincy swim around his tank while the kittens sleep. They’re getting so big already and starting to wander around a bit on their own. I’m sure in another week or two they’re going to be absolute menaces. I can’t wait.

Instead of leading me to the front door, Piston pulls me towards the back.

“I thought we were going ice skating.”

“We are.” He grins and throws the back door open.

A burst of cold air washes over me, along with the smell of snow, and I blink in surprise. The open space that usually stands between the house and the fire pit is now occupied by an inflatable ice rink surrounded by a pergola, decorated with twinkling fairy lights. It looks… magical.

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