Page 17 of Comforting the Grump

My thumbs tapped against the screen with impatience.

You free today…as in right now?

That depends. You gonna give me a good hard fuck, Daddy?

I rolled my eyes.

If you stop calling me that, yes.

Okay. Where and when?

I sent him the address of the hotel I used when needed. I’d made it a hard and fast rule never to invite people to my place.

An hour from now?

I fired off the message and waited, feeling the simmering frustration within me morph into a grim anticipation.

See you then.

The hotel was a short walk from my place—the whole reason I often used it—and within minutes, I had a room.

My hookup arrived right on time, dressed in pants I’d have to peel off him and a crop top. Were those back in fashion? I thought we’d left the eighties behind us.

“Oh, nice room,” he said.

“I’m not in the mood for conversation, Blue.”

He grinned. “You wanna unleash that bad mood on my ass.”

“That was the plan.”

“I’m down with that.”

Seattle rain pelted against the windows as I watched him undress. He was exactly my type with his slim, tight body and that spectacular ass that would bounce perfectly when I fucked him. The blue strands of his hair fell like rivulets of paint against his pale skin, and for a moment, I let myself believe this could scrub away the grime of today’s frustrations. But as he advanced toward me with a confident swagger that screamed youth and vitality, my body refused to mirror my intentions.

It would cooperate once I touched him. I yanked him toward me and kissed him, maybe a bit harder than I had intended, but he sank into it, into me, his hands massaging my ass. “Don’t you wanna undress, Silver?”

“Silver?”

He shrugged. “You called me Blue.”

Fair enough. But Jesus, how did I undress when my cock was still as soft as it had been before his arrival?

Before I could say anything, he sank to his knees and deftly pulled down my pants. “I’ll help you get in the mood.”

Fuck. He’d known what the problem was. “I don’t usually?—”

“Happens to the best of us.”

Him being so nice about it should’ve made me feel better, but it didn’t. Everything about this felt wrong, which made no sense at all. How was this different from any hookup I’d ever done?

He took out my cock and sucked it into his mouth. Oh, he was good at this, his lips and tongue working me with skill. My cock perked up a little, but it never grew beyond half-mast. What the fuck was happening? This was the second time I hadn’t been ableto get it up. This wasn’t me. I was not some desperate middle-aged cliché battling with his damn libido.

Worry pooled in my stomach. “This isn’t working.”

Concern filled his eyes. “Are you okay? Is there something?—

“I don’t know, but it’s not your problem.”

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