Page 14 of ILY
“I mean, this hotel room is creepy. It would be better if we did this at your place.”
I purse my lips and adjust my dick not so subtly. His eyes flash down to it once more, and he inhales. “You’re trying to trick me into inviting you over.”
“Ha, no. Just being honest.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “I may be thinking with my dick right now, but you’re not coming to my house. And that’s final. If you want to touch your first dick, it has to be here.”
His head cocks again, and then he nods. “Alright. Show it to me.”
I let out a loud laugh at that. “Way to really turn me on.”
“Just being blunt. You’re used to that though, right?”
“Sure am. I don’t take offense to most things, really.”
He nods and then points to my dick. “Alright then. Take it out.”
Suddenly, I’m incredibly nervous. This dude has never been with a guy before, and he’s also a stranger who is most likely a criminal. So yeah, he may be incredibly hot, but what if he chops me up and sells me for parts?
“You’re not gonna, like, cut my dick off and keep it as a trophy, right?”
His mouth drops open. “Why would I do that?”
“Never mind.” I wave off his question. “Listen, I probably wouldn’t have considered this a year ago, but ever since Michael, I’ve lost hope in the world.”
“In humanity, you mean?”
“No, the entire world. It’s gone to shit, and it started with Michael.” I sigh and put my hands behind my neck, staring upat the ceiling. “Actually, maybe what I need isn’t a hand job. Maybe I need a good therapist. I wonder if they give hand jobsintherapy. Now, that would be amazing, wouldn’t it?”
“Think that would be illegal.”
“And so is this meeting, but here we are.”
We stare at each other, almost daring one another to make the move. To break the rules.
Well, to breakanotherrule.
“Fine, you win,” I finally breathe, unable to take it any longer. “And please no comments on the size. It is what it is.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
I begin to pull my cock out, feeling very silly right now, but before it’s able to make its dramatic appearance, my phone trills loudly. I know that sound.
I fuckingknowthat sound.
Michael.
I pull out my phone, and I stare down at it, pulling the video feed up with a swipe of my finger.
That little fucker is trying to get my zucchini. The last one.
“I’m gonnakillhim!” I hiss. “I have to go. My zucchini is in danger.”
“Do you mean your dick?” Echo asks, and I roll my eyes.
“No, dude. My fucking zucchini. My last one. I need to call a car.” Thank fuck there’s one a minute away.
I grab my shit from the bed, the duffel bag slung over my shoulder, and brush past the sexy-as-sin man blocking my way.
