Page 98 of Dean

It’s made me slightly grumpy. I can feel the frustration roiling through me the longer my mouth stays away from his.

“You ready to go?” Avery asks, taking the helmet I offer him and putting it on his head. He’s wearing that short little skirt and fuck, I want to see what he looks like, sitting behind me, those legs on display. I’ve been getting peeks of them all day. I want to drag my hands up them, feel them link behind my back as I slant my mouth over his.

“Ready,” I grumble, and when his hands finally wrap around my waist, I pull out of the parking lot, letting the engine roar as we head down the road. Avery lets out a laugh at the speed and I can’t help that my own lips turn up at the excitement moving through him. It emanates from him and enters my body, making me feel alive.

That’s what I feel when I’m with him.

I feel alive.

Does that make me selfish? Taking something from him so that I can feel good again?

I’ll have to ask him. I’ll have to see.

Because I refuse to stop on my own.

Selfish bastard, that’s me.

For so long I’ve given everything up for Ben, and now…well, now I want to take some of it back. I want to be selfish. I want to live.

Minutes later, I pull into the driveway and park the motorcycle, letting Avery get off first and then following him, but I stop him before he can move inside.

“Wait,” I say and then wet my lips. “Sit back down.” I point at the seat and Avery’s eyebrows rise.

“Why?”

“I wanna see those legs. On my bike.”

He blushes.

“Oh, do you?”

“Yeah, I fucking do. Now sit that pretty ass down so I can take a look.”

He does it and does itslowly, throwing a long leg over the seat and lowering himself onto it. His skirt rides up as he goes, just like I knewit would, and my cock twitches in my pants at the utterly erotic sight before me. Fuck yes. He looks as good as I knew he would.

He always looks so fucking good.

“What do you think?” he asks, arching back slightly, making the fabric move up his thighs a little more.

“Hot,” I mutter and then step toward him, pulling him up and into my arms. “Let’s go inside. I want to try some things. Just like we planned.”

“Things? Whatever could you mean?”

“You know. I know you do.”

He giggles and then kisses me, throwing a leg around my waist and making my body arch into his. I half drag, half carry him inside. He’s giggling and moaning as I kick the door shut and make my way toward the bedroom.

“Wait!” he cries and then grinds up against me. “Wait. Are you eating my ass for dinner?”

“Yeah. That was the plan.”

“Fuck, okay. I need to shower.”

“I could just eat you right now,” I murmur as we fall onto the bed. He squirms beneath me as I kiss my way up his neck. “You have a hickey, right here.” My teeth scrape over it, and he shivers.

“I do. I love it. I want more. Leave hickeys all over me, please. I want to look like a messy canvas.”

“I will. I’ll make you a work of art.”

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