Page 22 of Silent Cravings

I couldn’t think about that now, not once I impaledmyself on his rigid cock. Sheer, open-mouthed pleasure washed over me and demanded I ride him for all I was worth, to forget everything, to let it all go. It didn’t have to mean anything but a good time. I wouldn’t let it.

It was getting easier to lie to myself.

8

EVAN

“Mr. Black, you didn’t have to do this.” My stomach was about to burst by the time I finished the enormous meal we had put away between the three of us. The remnants were scattered across plates in the center of the table.

“And you don’t have to call me Mr. Black,” Barrett reminded me with a fatherly grin. “I thought we were on a first-name basis by now.”

Some lessons were impossible to shake after being drilled into a guy’s brain his entire childhood, even after fifteen years of acquaintance. “Okay,Barrett.” I chuckled. “Thank you for dinner.”

“It was my pleasure.” His cheeks puffed when he blew out a sigh. “I don’t know why I thought I could put that much food away. I used to be able to, back when I was your age. The two of you make me feel young again. I’ll blame my indigestion overnight on you.”

We laughed along with Colton, who refilled our glasses with the same rich merlot we’d enjoyed throughout the meal. “I’ve been blamed for a lot worse than that,” hemuttered, smirking at his father when their eyes met. Only faint wrinkles and graying hair set Barrett apart from his son. It was almost freaky how well he’d aged.

“Water under the bridge, son. At least, that’s what I hope.” Barrett slid me an apologetic glance. “Evan here didn’t come out to listen to us rehashing the past.”

“If anything,” Colton continued. “It’s been a little unnerving. You haven’t criticized me nearly enough in the past few months. Not even for getting my girlfriend pregnant.”

This was taking an interesting turn. I was unfamiliar with this level of honesty between a father and son. It wasn’t that I had a bad relationship with my parents. More like a distant one. Surface-level shit, nothing deeper than that.

It was the way Dad was raised by his emotionally crippled father, and the cycle continued. It would end with me since the chances of my settling down and starting a family were minuscule. Not all of us were lucky like Colton, with loving parents who hadn’t left him alone to basically raise himself the way mine had. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being a decent husband or father and couldn’t see putting anybody through living with me, no matter how happy my friends seemed now that they were settling down.

Another foreign thing. The pang in my chest at that thought, and the discomfort and disappointment.

The image of Valentina that filled my memory. She had been on my mind lately, and it made sense she’d show up in my mind’s eye now. There would always be what could have been.

Everything worked out for the best.

I still believed that.

“Rose has been a good influence on you,” Barrett pointed out, swirling the wine in his wide glass. “You’re achanged man. Finally living up to your potential. Settling down, starting a family, that’s a good thing. It makes your mother and I very happy to see you stepping into this next phase of your life.”

He then turned to me, raising his glass. “And you’re making the wedding possible. Nothing like short notice, right?”

“It’s a pleasure.” And it had been in more ways than one.

Part of my attention was always on Valentina, meaning my dick twitched in my pants when I remembered just how much of a pleasure the past few weeks had been. She drove me crazy and invaded my concentration time and again, but the payoff? More than worth it every time we were together.

“When will it be your turn, do you think?” When I blurted out a laugh at the sudden question, Barrett lifted a hand and shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve spent too many years married to my wife. I’m starting to think like her. But you’re practically a member of the family. That gives me the right to ask an uncomfortable question every couple of years or so.”

Colton’s mouth twitched like he was trying not to grin. “Yeah, Evan. Whenwillit be your turn?” he taunted, leaning back in his chair with his eyes crinkling at the corners the way they did when he busted my balls.

“I’ve yet to find a woman who can handle me.” I sighed, making them both laugh. Good. Let them laugh. Humor was my fallback, getting me out of a sticky situation once again.

Though not for long.

“You have to stay open to the possibility. I know, I sound like some dating advice column.” Barrett ran a hand over the back of his neck, squinting. “Do they still have those?”

“I have no idea,” I admitted. “I’ve never looked for advice with women.”

“Anyway, it’s good advice,” he insisted. “Enjoy being young and single, definitely. I sure as hell did.” That came as no surprise.

We all knew stories of the stuff he and his friends got into when they were our age. The hunk holes, they were called, partying and fucking their way through Manhattan without giving a damn. Years spent with the family left me with plenty of stories and legends overheard during get-togethers.

“No problem there,” I assured him, chuckling and sipping my wine. This turn of conversation had me feeling pretty fucking uncomfortable, but I couldn’t be rude to a man who, at times, seemed more like my father than my own ever had.

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