Page 110 of Wrath

"No chicken," he says as he gets in the car.

As he backs out of the parking spot, he murmurs something. Pretty sure it’s, "This is for your own good."

"What is?" I snap.

"Minimizing time with me."

"Oh, like how you showered right beside me just now?"

"It was a weak moment.” He turns out of the parking lot and onto the road. “I didn't touch you, did I?"

"No?" I gesture at my boner.

"Now you're fucking with me,” he says.

"I'm just fucking sitting here."

"Not for long." He whips the Jeep into the old ballpark, comes to an abrupt stop beside some bushes, and jerks my pants down. Then he takes my dick out of my briefs and gobbles it down.

"Oh shit.Shit." He's doing it so hard and...fast. My body shudders at the onslaught of his lips and cheeks and tongue.

"Slow down,” I grit. “Or I'm gonna..."

Come.

I come so hard, it makes my heart race. Ezra swallows every drop, and when he lifts his head, his eyes are dark and heavy-lidded.

"Now who's sitting there all innocent?" His voice is low and rough.

I’m expecting him to drive us home after he pulls out of the parking lot. Instead he takes us to the cemetery. He parks near the wall we climbed before and tells me, "Get out for a second."

He’s got his hand down over his dick, which I realize is tenting his pants. "What, so you can jerk off?"

"My balls hurt like hell, and you can't touch it,” he snaps.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want you to." His hand comes over his face.

"You don’t want me giving you a blow job?"I grin, suddenly feeling wicked.

"No." He blows his breath into his hands. My stomach drops, cause I could feel this coming.

"What is it? This thing run its course, got boring?"

"Get out, please."

"You didn't ask me,” I say, referencing what he just did at the old ball park. “Maybe I shouldn't ask you either."

He moves his hand off his face, giving me a wary look. "You should."

"Can I blow you, Sir Masters? I'll do a real good job. I promise."

He throws the Jeep into reverse and peels out of the cemetery, the Jeep’s tires kicking gravel and dust up behind us. As he hangs a right onto the narrow road that runs through the historic district, he shifts his hips, and I see his dick pushing at his shorts.

As he goes for the compartment where he keeps his ear buds, I reach over his lap, sliding my hand into the leg of his shorts. He ignores me—stubborn fucker—as he drives toward the house. I start to tug on his balls…push them aside and brush my finger over his taint. His hips jerk.

"Pull over,” I tell him with trepidation. I’m so fucking confused and consumed. “Up here on the right, pull over at those townhouses and park under the weeping willow behind them.”