TEN MINUTES IS how long he makes me wait, my back plastered against the wall right where he left me. It's like a walk of shame, but motionless. Two people stroll by me one by one, and all I can do is drop my gaze to the ground and pretend they're not there.
When my phone buzzes in my pocket, I jump. It's like I've forgotten phones exist. Like I've forgotten anything exists, really. Anything other than a tall, black-haired man who somehow managed to convince both my brain and every piece of my body that a minor detail such as him being just that—a man—is really fucking insignificant.
I hold my breath as I remove the phone from my pocket, and it takes me three tries to unlock it. Once I do, there's a new notification from an app called Grindr, from a person calledH., 26.
I try not to let the "U coming?" text from earlier distract me and focus on the last one.
Two words and a number.
An address.
His address?
I'm not sure. Might as well be a slaughterhouse for all I know. And right now? I don't even care.
Finding my way back to my car is challenging, and driving seems outright reckless. Not that it stops me. Whatever buzz I had going on from my one drink earlier is long gone, and if I get pulled over for weaving, what are they gonna charge me with? Being horny?
When I make my last turn in the thankfully residential area and find the right house, I only half-register it's really fucking luxurious. But that doesn't matter either. I wouldn't care if it were a shed.
After I make my way up the driveway that bends and stretches for longer than a driveway should, I practically fly out of my car and all but sprint to the front door. If he's watching me from a window, he knows I'm desperate. Normally, I'd try to hide it, but I can't. Because...well, I'mreally fucking desperateright now.
I skip up three large, stone steps, all brown and beige and grey, and knock on the door three times before I realize there's a doorbell. I press that as well and shake my body out as I wait, trying to think of an opener other than 'Please fuck me'.
I'll comment on the house, that's what I'll do. There's no way a firefighter's salary buys a house like that. Maybe he invests. Maybe he does porn on the side. Maybe he lied. Maybe—
The second the door swings open, I forget what I was thinking about. I'm not sure I've ever had any thoughts, ever.
Hayden opens the door all the way, one hand still on the handle as he puts his other arm on the frame and leans against it.
I take him in piece by piece, trying not to moan in the process. He's changed. Or rather, he'sshed... There's a pair of dark grey joggers hanging low on his hips, and in place of the black button-up, there's absolutely fucking nothing, and I'm upclose and personal with a broad, hairless chest that somehow looks even bigger than in the picture.
Also, his hair is now damp, which means...
I groan, because fuck appearances, and take a sharp step forward, then another, only to bounce off the unyielding wall of muscles in front of me.
"Sooo... Are you gonna let me in?" I ask, thankful for my voice coming out somewhat steady, considering the circumstances.
Hayden sucks in his lower lip and then slowly rolls it out as his eyes roam over my body for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, but doesn't move.
Umm. He's gonna let me in, right? He wouldn't be that cruel, would he?
Finally, he speaks. "Should Ilet you in?"
"Yep. Yes. You definitely should."
He raises a brow. "And why is that?"
God... He's fucking with me so hard I might actually come from that.
I step from foot to foot and scan my brain for something clever to say but come up empty. "Because..." I tilt my head to the side and let my eyes swipe over his frame again. Damn, those pants. Damn his hairless, probably shaved body. And damn that V-line that's partly hidden, leading right to— Fuck it. "Because I'm pretty sure I'd be good at giving head. And if I'm not, then... well, I'd like you to evaluate my effort."
The movement of his jaw is subtle, but not subtle enough for me to miss as he grinds his teeth and his eyelids fall closedslowly as he inhales. When he opens his eyes a second later, he pushes off the doorframe and steps to the side.
Air escapes my lungs in a sharp puff as I move, brushing my shoulder against his chest, because that's how much room he deemed appropriate to leave me, and I do my best not to think about the fact I have just offered to suck his dick.
I step in just enough to let him close the door comfortably and wait. When he doesn't step around me, I turn, only to find him leaning against the door, his hands tucked behind his lower back, and—fuck—his very obviously hardening dick tenting the gray fabric.
I swallow, and then swallow again, because apparently the man has me literally salivating. "So, um... Where to?" I motion dumbly to my right where a fucking wall is.