Page 36 of Leo
“Oh god,” I groaned, pressing my hand over my mouth to keep quiet.The chances of someone walking into the home were low but not nonexistent.Being overheard getting what was one of the best blowjobs of my life was not the first impression I wanted to make on a potential client.Ambrose chuckled, the vibrations doingthingsto me, making me weak in the knees.Or maybe that was the way he was working his hand over my shaft, slick from his spit and my precum, stroking me as he sucked and licked what his hand didn’t cover.His fingers slipped further between my legs, hampered by my clothes, able only to tease me with the idea of touching me lower, fingering me as he blew me.
And that tease made my release barrel through me faster than I expected.“Fuck!I’m close,” I warned.Ambrose made a happy sound and took me deeper, his nose practically against my pubic hair as he worked his throat around me.I came with a sharp gasp, my body tensing as I braced my hand on the door to keep from falling over.Words fell out of my mouth, babble about how good it felt, how sweet his mouth was, how much I wanted him inmymouth next.That last one brought him up for air, giving my cock one last, lingering lick before he glanced sheepishly down at his own crotch.
“Sorry,” he murmured, not sounding sorry at all.“That was so fucking hot.I finished without you…”
“Christ, thatishot.Fuck…” I stared at the wet spot on his dark trousers as he stood.“Fuck, do you have time to change clothes?I can drive you—”
“It’s fine,” he promised, pulling me in for a kiss that tasted like my come.“I’ll nip by the house and put on a fresh pair.”
“I think I like taking lunch breaks with you,” I murmured against his ear.“Give me a few minutes and maybe we can take another?”
He laughed.“I think you’re really optimistic about our refractory periods, but I admire your enthusiasm.Here,” he said, leaning away to grab one of the sandwiches.“Turkey pastrami on rye, pickle on the side.”
We sat at my desk, wolfing down our sandwiches and drinking cherry seltzer, talking about nothing and everything.How could I almost let myself miss this?I wondered.What the hell was wrong with me?
Ambrose was bagging up the trash when my phone rang.The school name flashed on screen.“Damn it.”I sighed.“It’s about Edward.”
Ambrose hovered, mouthingIs he okaywhile the school secretary relayed to me that Edward had had a meltdown in class and I needed to go get him.
“Edward's having a bad day,” I told him as soon as I hung up.“I need to pick him up.”I was already reaching for my keys and phone.“I'm sorry.”Scrubbing my hands over my face, I let out a muffled groan.Homeschooling was sounding more and more like the best option for Edward, especially since it could mean more good days than bad for him.
“If you like,” Ambrose offered, “I can send Bethany over to hang out with him.I mean, I’d ask her first for sure, but she’s got half a day off for some sort of teacher in service thing and she thinks Edward’s a cool kid.She can show him her bug books or something.”
I hesitated.“I don’t know.I’m sure she has other things to do than babysit a virtual stranger’s kid in a funeral home.”
Ambrose scoffed.“Please.She’s looking for any excuse not to do homework during her free afternoon, and between trying to get me to unwittingly sign a made-up tattoo permission slip and going through baby name books to choose a new nom de guerre, she’s bored off her ass.Teaching Edward about bugs—or vice versa, from what I’ve heard about his bug knowledge—will keep both of them busy.”
“Tattoo permission slip?”I laughed.“Wait, run that one by me again.”As I set my phone to cover and grabbed my phone and car keys, Ambrose told me with shades of both exasperation and amusement, about Bethany’s ongoing campaign to get him to let her get a tattoo.“Good lord,” I muttered.“I don’t envy you raising a teenager.Shit, that reminds me—if she’s babysitting, I’m paying her.What’s the going rate for babysitters?”I asked.“Is ten bucks an hour enough?”
“I’ll leave that up to you two to sort out,” he chuckled.“But I’ll make her promise not to cover Edward in Sharpie tattoos.”
“I’ll pay extra for her not to do that.”
Ambrose’s warm chuckle rumbled around my thoughts and tickled along my spine the entire trip to the school and even as I signed Edward out under the narrowed glare of the secretary and Ms.Webb’s aide, who’d had to wait with Edward for me to arrive.
All those warm fuzzies faded as soon as Edward broke away from the aide to come lean against my leg and wrap his arms around mine, one of his old signals—pick me up, carry me, protect me.Lifting him and his small backpack and lunch kit into my arms, I carried him out past the glaring aide to where I’d parked in the school’s circle drive.“Hey, favorite kid,” I murmured as I juggled things to get to my keys.“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” he muttered.“Just a bad day, Dad.”
I wanted to demand answers, either from him or from Ms.Webb—someone, anyone!He’s a tiny kid, for fuck’s sake!He shouldn’t be made to feel so miserable every day!
My heart aching, I secured Edward in his booster seat and got in, starting the car.“Hey, want to stop and get some lunch?”I asked, hoping to elicit a small smile.“We can go to Firey’s for cheese pizza.”
“I already ate.”He sighed.“I got bored in the office.My sandwich was too squishy,” he added accusingly.“No more PB&J’s, okay?”
“You got it.”Glancing up in the rearview mirror, I saw him staring at one of his drawing notebooks.“Hey, guess what?”
He muttered the least enthusiastic “Chicken butt,” I’d ever heard in my life.
“Bethany’s going to come hang out at the home with you while I work.”
He glanced up.“Really?”When I nodded, he seemed to relax a bit.“She’s cool.She thinks I’m normal.”
Shit.Striving to keep my tone light, I asked “Did someone say you weren’t?”
He nodded.“Ms.Webb.We were doing show and tell today.I had a really cool casting from a molt and she said ‘why can’t you just act like the normal kids, Eddie?’”
“She.What?”
