Page 104 of Finance Bros

That’s fair. I hope I’ve made up for it over the last hour and a half because this dinner, as mundane as it was, covered a lot of ground and made a big difference for me. It’s a much less confusing fresh start than jumping straight into a blow job. It’s also got me incredibly horny. “That won’t happen again, okay? No matter how this turns out.”

“Meaning you’ll return all my texts from now on even if you’re pissed off at me?”

“Yeah, sure, even if it’s just to tell you to fuck off.”

He grins. “Good.”

We’re quiet, engaged in a heated staring game until the waiter drops off the check. I calculate the tip, sign the bill and stand up, offering him my hand.

He takes it, and as soon as he’s on my side of the table, I slide my arm around his waist. His drops around my shoulders. A few steps down the street, I turn to him, back him up against a brick building, and kiss him. He grips my waist, pulls me close, and kisses me back.

He gets hard fast. His cock springs rapidly from his thigh tohis hip, and while that’s what I’d really like to suck, I decide to leave a mark on his neck instead. “You like to be watched, don’t you?” I ask.

“How’d you ever guess?” he says in a breathy, dazed voice.

“Do you like to show off for me?”

“Everyone likes showing off for their big brother.”

I freeze, my hands still gripping his side.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “Don’t let me make this weird. I’m sorry.”

I’m hard as a fucking rock, so maybe his weird works for me. My mouth comes back to his, landing hard and hot. I grind against him on the street for anyone passing to see. He groans into my throat, and I have to make myself care that there are public decency laws, even in San Francisco. “Let’s get home. I’ll let you be as weird as you want.”

“Yeah?” he asks with the starry eyed hope of a child who’s never had anything nice.

“Yeah, let’s go be freaks together.”

It’s a stumbling,heated, forty-five minute walk home that should have taken twenty. It’s Saturday night, so Deacon should be out, and I’m thrilled to see his note on the counter saying he is and to let him know if I need anything.

Not tonight, Deac. Everything I need is right here.

Malcolm’s feeling me up from behind as I read the note, as if I need to get more turned on. “How’s your ass?” I ask as I turn to back him into my bedroom.

“Ready for your big dick.” He’s already panting and flushed. “But I need a shower.”

“I’ll get you clean for me,” I tell him.

“In the shower,” he says, while I lick a line up his neck. “I’m serious.”

I like the way he tastes, though. Salty with a faint trace of alcohol. His natural scent reminds me of spring. Petrichor. I honestly don’t want to cover it up, but I get it. His ass was meticulously clean the night I ate it out, so I gather he cares about that kind of thing. He’sserious.

“Okay, dirty boy. Let’s get you all washed up.”

He relaxes as soon as the hot water hits his naked body, signaling to me that he was wound up tight about not being clean enough. I lather up his chest before moving my hands around his thighs, washing his groin, his balls, and his cock thoroughly while he braces an arm on the wall and responds sensually to every touch with thrusts of his hips and low groans.

“Turn around.”

“I can?—”

“Turn around.”

He stops arguing and turns, his hands on the tile and his head directly beneath the spray of water. It cascades down his back and his ass. I use conditioner instead of soap, wanting the extra softness, the extra slide.

“Oh, God,” he sighs when I slip two fingers into his hole. I kiss his shoulder as I massage in and out, letting the water wash away the suds and whatever else he’s afraid is in there. The way it feels to touch him like this has me dying to be inside him again. I stroke my cock as I slowly clean him up. He passes me the spray nozzle and I almost laugh. “You’re clean, I promise.”

“Humor me.”

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