Page 14 of Light Me Up

"Says the man who hasn't even attempted to date anyone in the twenty-three years that I've been alive."

"I've gone on dates. They just didn't go anywhere."

"Why, though?"

"Because there was nothing about them that made me feel like I'd prefer their company to my own. They didn't light me up in any way."

"Maybe you should try to find someone that lights you up, then."

"Meh. I'm pretty comfortable in my old age."

"You're old, not dead. And jokes aside, you're not even that old."

"Mmm hmm. Thanks for the pep talk. Now get the fuck out of my house before you're late to pick up your girlfriend and make a shit impression on her parents. I raised you better."

"Alright, alright, I'm leaving!" He gives me a hug before pointing at me. "Don't kill Ian." Picking up his duffle and garment bag, he yells up the stairs. "I'm out! Don't let my dad kill you!"

"Have fun, man!" Ian says, bounding down the stairs. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he says, thumping him on the back.

"Name one thing you wouldn't do," Michael calls over his shoulder.

"I'll text you when I think of something!"

Ian watches Michael get in his car and closes the front door once he's out of sight.

"Are you staying hydrated?" he asks me.

"Yes, doctor," I sass, holding up the sixty-four-ounce insulated cup he's been making me carry around.

"Good. Now, get your sexy ass upstairs."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's time for your sports massage."

"Ugh. No. I hate those."

"I promise you'll like this one," he says, winking.

CHAPTER 8

IAN

I finally persuade my grouchy patient to lug his delicious ass upstairs by promising him a blow job. Really, he's about to get something much, much better than that. But, much like everything else we've been through, I have to work him up to it.

"What is all this?" Henry asks as we enter his room. I've stripped the bed and covered it with a mattress protector and several oversized bath towels. There's one pillow that has been similarly protected, so the massage oil doesn't ruin anything. I drew the blinds and lit some candles to create a relaxing atmosphere.

"If you're going to get a massage, you might as well do it right," I say, pulling my shirt over my head.

He watches me with obvious lust, which is a huge step forward from just days ago. I've finally gotten him to admit he wants me, to tell me what he wants from me. Granted, most of that openness comes in the form of dirty talk.

"I want you to get on your knees and swallow my cock."

"I want you eat me out until I'm dizzy."

"Baby, I'm starving for your sweet cum."

Yeah, that's right, he called mebaby. Once. By accident.

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