Page 50 of Oz
“I’m so sorry about that suit of armour,” he says.
“What? Why?”
“It’s a fake.”
“Of course it isn’t,” he says bombastically. “How the hell would you know that?”
Oz grins. “It’s got Made in China on a label inside it.” He tuts. “I’d remove that before someone sees.”
He grabs my hand and tows me out of the room. When we’re a good distance away I hiss, “Has it really got a Made in China label?”
“No,” he scoffs. “But it’ll take him ages looking for it.”
My laughter is loud enough to be heard all over the house.
Oz
Once we’re back in the car, he drives off without saying anything. The quiet feels ominous and I shoot him a nervous glance.Was that too much?I’m floundering here. Usually when I meet someone there isn’t any of this getting to know one another. Shit, I can’t remember the last time I was even on a fucking date. Usually it’s just a quick chat, a grope, things get heavy, and both of us come.
This is outside of my experience. I’d somehow thought that Silas would be his usual self during sex. Calm and kind andfunny. I thought I’d control the sex like I normally do and keep it light. Well, the joke’s on me, because it was very far from that. He was intense and demanding and so fucking hot that I thought I’d burn up. I remember him instructing me not to swallow and then gulping down his own come while kissing me, and my cock stiffens. Then I remember his hand squeezing mine when he came, and I wriggle and feel something heavy in my stomach.
He’s been so quiet since we left, and for the first time I worry about what another man thinks of me.Have I put him off me, blowing him like that in another man’s house? Has he lost interest now I’ve been on my knees for him, like so many others have?I think of him moving on and I actually feel sick.
I hate this. I hate feeling so unsure about another person. This is why I avoid liking people. They bring ties and awful things like being bothered what they think of me and living up to their expectations.
I try to relax into my seat and stare out of the window watching the green fields fly past.I’ll just sit here,I decide.Let him speak when he wants to. I’m not begging someone to talk to me.
“You’re very quiet.” The voice that just spoke sounded very much like me, but I’m so stunned at what my mouth just did that I actually look around for the someone else who just spoke. He turns to me and I blanch at the look of anger on his face. “What’s the matter?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He sighs and his fingers flex on the steering wheel. “I’m just so angry at the way they spoke to you. Sneering at you like you were less than them.”
I stare at him, feeling disconcerted by his answer. It wasn’t what I expected. “People see me and make a lot of misconceptions. It doesn’t bother me anymore, to be honest. People can think what they like. The only people whose opinionsI care about are very few in number.” I smile. “The rest can go fuck themselves.”
He looks quickly at me before returning his eyes to the road. “I wish I could be like that,” he muses softly. “But I’ve always been bothered.”
“That’s because you hate letting people down,” I say sagely. “It’s your curse to want people to be happy.” I shake my head mournfully. “What a terrible person you are.”
He laughs and something inside me unfurls a little bit, like a plant seeking the sun. I love making him laugh. To see him smile makes me incredibly happy, especially now. That feels like something I should be bothered about, but I tell myself that I can’t be concerned about it if I don’t think too hard about what it means.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I say impulsively.
He looks at me quizzically. “Of course, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I flounder slightly. “Well, after the blow job I thought you might be a bit cross with me.” I shrug. “I mean, I did force it along and it would have been really embarrassing if someone had found us.”
“You think I’m angry about you giving me ablow job?”he asks incredulously.
When he puts it like that, it does sound ridiculous. I laugh. “Ignore me. That was stupid.” I look around as he pulls into the opening of a field and turns to me. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Is there a problem with the car?”
“There’s a probleminthe car. Why on earth would you think I’d be cross about you giving me a blow job?”
I shrug awkwardly. “I don’t know. In my experience, men usually fuck off after we’ve both come. I just don’t want you feeling awkward about having to still be on a date with me afterwards. We can go home now if you like.”
Something flares in his eyes at the word home, but then a curious mix of anger and what looks like tenderness fills his eyes. He reaches out and cups my chin and turns my face to his. “Oz, that blow job was wonderful. I came so hard I saw stars. However, you’re missing something very important.”
“What?” I whisper.
“Most of what made it brilliant was because it was you. You make me hard when you smile at me, and when you get fierce I could drill stone with my cock. However, that’s all tied up in you. I asked you on a date because I’m fascinated with you. You make me laugh, and there’s something so vital and alive about you. So, the blow job was just icing. The real sweet stuff is being with you, talking together and making you laugh. If you never blew me again I would still want to be with you.”
