Page 122 of Seeing Grayscale

I listened.

We cleaned up the mess from dinner together, and only after that did Hunter start coming around. So, that’s how we ended up on the couch, watching Wayne’s World.

The part I want him to see is coming up, and I’m trying so hard to see those dimples. I know making him happy isn’t my job, but I’d gladly take up the profession. And because I’m determined, I start reciting the movie.

Word for word.

Hunter side-eyes me when I say, “Did you ever find Bugs Bunny attractive when he’d put on a dress and play a girl bunny?” A laugh explodes out of him because I do it in Garth’s voice, too.

Snapping his attention back to the movie, because there is a pause, he waits, and when Wayne cracks up, he does too. I feel like I won the damn lottery, chuckling alongside him. “It’s going to happen right now!” I call out, gripping his arm.

His eyes light up. Wayne and Garth start screaming when the plane flies over them, and I feel it—the moment when all the shit washes off Hunter. “Holy crap I had no idea this existed in a movie!”

“I told you!” I slap his arm playfully.

“But it’slanding. Take off is much cooler.” He smirks like a smug bastard, so I smack him again. “Hey!” he barks, wrestling to get my hand, but I’m too fast.

I get him in the stomach this time, and he lets out a dramaticow.It escalates, and he digs his fingers into my side. I yelp, then fall backward in a futile attempt to escape him. Climbing over me, Hunter dips his head and rubs his beard in the crook of my neck. I’m laughing like a dying cow, my legs are kicking, and I’m pushing at his body.

“Gonna slap me again?” he taunts, nipping at the skin and like witchcraft, turning the moment from fun to sexy.

I slap his ass.

A deep rumble comes from the back of his throat and he sucks on my neck. The fingers that had been tickling me slide up under my shirt, sensually gliding over my skin. I can feel the mark he’sputting on my throat, and I moan when his tongue adds to the mix. Teeth dig into the meat, sending a sharp sting through the area just before he kisses and licks it away.

He showered before the movie, so I easily slide one hand down the back of his pajama pants. I don’t go into his briefs, but I still let myself wander, gently cupping then squeezing his ass. When his hips roll, I stuff the other hand down there too, guiding his movements all the while he rocks on my dick.

“Hunter,” I rasp, wanting his lips.

“Hmm?” He peppers kisses up my neck, jaw, and cheek, before hovering over my face.

I slip my hands out of his pants to play with the hem of his shirt. I still haven’t seen him shirtless—or naked. The few glimpses of his upper chest and happy trail aren’t enough. “Take this off,” I tell him.

He glances down at his beige shirt that has a beaver on it. “You too, then.”

I nod fast, already grabbing my shirt to take it off. He follows suit, and when my eyes land on his upper body, I can’t keep it in. “Jesus.” My hands latch onto him, feeling the subtle indentations of his abs and prominent chest.

He’s not ripped by any means, but he’s fucking beautiful.

Fingering the fuzz below his navel, I drag the tip of my index finger down and over the imprint of his cock. It flexes in response. As I’m about to do it again, he moves my hand away and bends. Before I can blink, he’s got my nipple between his lips, tongue flicking it into a raised point, and my eyes cross. “Fuck, that feels good.”

I let him rile me up while we continue our slow, dry-hump session. When he starts to lick down my sternum, though, repeating what we’ve already done, I grab his head and tug his mouth up to mine. He comes easily, kissing me hard and deep.Our bodies grind harder, chests rubbing, and the more our tongues tangle and taste, the hungrier I get.

I want more.

My mind makes a sharp turn into what I found earlier, ideas spurring in my head. Maybe I don’t need any of those. Maybe we can just—

“Gray,” he says, breaking the kiss.

“Yeah?”

“We need to talk.”

All the heat slides right off me and into the floor. “Huh?”

With a tiny shake of his head, he kisses me again, slowly raising the temperature, but then he stops.Again.“I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing more. I’m happy to make you feel good, and that’s it.”

“I want more.” I grab two handfuls of his ass for emphasis. “Whatever that looks like, I want it.”

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