Page 4 of Until We Kiss

Would I like it?

It’s the ultimate fantasy for me. So much that I’ve jacked off while sucking on a dildo, shoving it to the very back of my throat, squeezing my eyes shut, pretending my moans were another man’s. His enormous, brawny?—

Shit.Whyam I thinking about this here?

I stifle a groan, my dick stirring and armpits heating. The cool air from the miniature air blower overhead isn’t strong enough.

But here’s the thing—thinking about it takes me out of my dark and depressing head. It gives me something to focus on. A goal. Just like I used to have with the NFL.

I sigh, my knee tightening again, that brace of pain shooting up and down the full length of my leg.

And I’m suddenly conscious that I’m sitting here, fantasizing about sucking cock and getting hard from it, while Carter is staring at me.

I glance over at him, licking my lips. “Who knows what’s going to happen?”

“It’s been a while for me too.” He says, a little roughly, and I don’t know—there’s something distant in his eyes. Something slightly darker than usual. His square jaw is clenched, faintly covered by a trace of yesterday's stubble. Shit, he didn’t notice anything, did he?

Little rivers of panic light down my back as I glance down at where I’m starting to sport a pretty obvious boner. I shift in my seat, trying to keep it hidden.

But his eyes are settled on my face, never glancing down. “You know what you need?”

Yes, a dick.

“No,” I say.

He can’t know the truth.

He’d freak the fuck out. That’s what friends do when you spring stuff like that on them.

That’s what happened last time, at least. And I’mnevergoing through that shit again. No question. I will not lose Carter. If I tell him, then I’ll plan it out. Be careful about it. Make sure that there’s nowayI would lose him.

His eyes narrow. “What are you thinking about?”

I snort an uneasy laugh. “Nothing, really.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I still. “No.”

He clears his throat. “Are you sure?”

A beat passes, and I don’t know. I mean… we’re not thinking the same thing. He’s clearly not thinking about a plan to suck dick.. But I’m not sure what he’s thinking either. The whole moment is getting my brain in a twist.

“I’ll give you a hint.” He lowers his voice, rasping in the few inches between us. “It starts with a song.”

“Oh, shit.” I shake my head, but relief floods me. “No, Car?—‍”

“Happy birthday,” he whispers, then leans in and gives me a big, wet kiss on the cheek before he pulls himself up using theseat in front of him, the woman sitting there giving him a death glare. But he’s vibrating with too much excitement to notice, his arms spreading, his voice loud. “Hey, it’s my friend’s birthday. Think we could all sing to him? His name’s Theo.”

Dorian laughs. Rory closes his eReader. They know how this goes.

It’s not my fucking birthday.

This isCarter. This is all him, and he does stuff like this all sorts of different places that we go. But he somehow gets the entire plane into a rendition of “Happy Birthday”. And then onto “Blank Space,” telling everyone it’s my favorite freaking song. But of course, it’s Carter who knows all the words by heart.

Okay, I guess I know all the words too.

It’s probably twenty minutes later before the flight attendant tells everyone to sit, after Carter almost knocks over the drink cart with a wild swing of his arms, but by then, I’mlaughing, in a way I haven't in a long time.

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