“I was thinking something like this,” he said, giving me a slow kiss before moving down my chin and to my neck. “And this,” he said, pulling aside one shoulder of my shirt and kissing down my clavicle, moving my bra strap aside.
“And this,” he said, coming back up to my mouth and sliding his hands upward, under my shirt.
“Slow...good,” I said. Once again, my moaning-while-talking issue had returned. He laughed, sending vibrations racing across my skin. Jesus. H. Christ.
We kept making out and he kept moving my clothing, but not removing it. Which was both awesome and totally frustrating at the same time. Also, because he was fully clothed, as well. I’d never seen him without a shirt on, and I had about had it with waiting.
Finally I just started pulling it off him so he had no choice but to take it off.
“About time,” I said, taking in the toned muscles, which, up until now, I’d only felt with my hands. Seeing them with my eyes was something else entirely. He was cut, but not in a gross way. Just...perfectly perfect in every way. And I got to see the tattoo for the first time.
It was two identical Chinese characters. I had no idea what they meant, but I made a note to ask later. I didn’t have any tattoos myself, but I always liked hearing the stories behind them. They reminded me of a tattoo I’d seen before. I couldn’t begin to imagine what Dusty’s meant. I just hoped it wasn’t Gangsta 4 Life or something like that.
“Wow,” I said before going to his mouth. My fingers raced along his blazing skin, and I kissed my way down his neck.
“Fuck, Joscelyn.” I loved when he used my full name. Like he was having sex with it. Really, really good sex. “If we go much further, I don’t think I can stop, and I don’t think either of us is ready for that. Yet.”
His words were right, but I didn’t want them to be. My body was screaming so loud I didn’t want to hear anything else.
“You know, you’re not really being fair. You can’t get me all worked up and then expect me to be able to...shut it off.”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to jack off since I met you? It’s like I’m twelve again and hiding in the bathroom and praying my parents don’t walk in.”
“Gross,” I said, putting my hand on his chest as if I was going to push him away.
“Oh, don’t tell me that you haven’t done it.” My ears betrayed me.
“Not today.” That was a lie. It had technically been today when he’d called me and we’d had our little session in the backseat of the car.
He climbed off me, looking down at his pants. He shook his head as he grabbed his shirt and put it back on.
“I always tell myself before I see you that I can control it, but it never turns out that way,” he said, as if he was speaking to the bulge and not me.
“Are you giving yourself a pep talk?”
He threw his hands up. “Why won’t you go away?” Yep, he definitely was. Talking to his dick.
“I’ll stop being so...seductive,” I said, adjusting my clothes so everything was covered.
“Oh, Red. You can’t stop. It’s just...you don’t have to do anything. You could sit there and do absolutely nothing and it would get me hot.”
Yeah, well, he was the same way.
“Maybe I should start picking my nose, or hocking loogies. What about that?” I said.
“I’d find that charming and adorable.” Napoleon had woken up and was crying from his bed. Dusty went and picked him up. He brought Napoleon up to his face and gave him a kiss. Sweet Jesus H. Fucking Christ.
“Is Napoleon helping with your problem?” Since I didn’t own a penis, I didn’t know exactly how that whole thing worked. I did have brothers, but they were all younger and this wasn’t really dinner-table conversation.
“A little. I’ll get over it. I hope. I’ve had worse.”
He kept looking at Napoleon and not at me and I kept looking at his pants. It should have been the most awkward thing ever, but Dusty was treating it like no big deal.
“Does it hurt?”
“I’m fine, Red. You don’t need to worry about my dick.” Maybe I wanted to worry about it. But he clearly wasn’t going to let me anywhere near it, so I took the top off the bucket of M&M’s and Skittles and pulled out a handful.
“It’s not that bad. Eating them together,” he said, making faces at Napoleon, who kept pawing Dusty’s nose. “It’s like chocolate-covered fruit.”
“Exactly,” I said, cracking an M&M’s between my teeth.
“Do you want anything else to eat? I should have offered.” He walked into the kitchen with Napoleon and looked in the fridge. “I don’t have much, because, as you know, I can’t cook.”
I followed him, enjoying the view from behind. He had a great ass. You could see it was great even though his pants sagged. That reminded me...
“How do your pants stay up?” He closed the fridge and turned around, holding a block of cheese.
“What?”
I pointed.
“How do your pants stay up? I’ve wanted to ask you that for weeks.” I sat down at one of the only chairs as he went to the counter and got out a knife and started cutting up the cheese.
“Can you hold him? He doesn’t like being set down. Little monster.” He handed me Napoleon, who was upset that Dusty was abandoning him, but as soon as I started scratching him under his chin he relaxed.
“I wear a belt, as you can see,” he said, lifting his shirt and showing it to me. Yes, I’d seen it earlier and contemplated how to undo it in the sexiest way.
“But your pants are so saggy.” They were kind of not saggy right now, given the situation, but normally, they were. “They just defy gravity.” Napoleon started batting at my finger, so I waved it around for him to attack. He dived for it, got off balance and nearly tumbled off my lap.
“Um, Jos?” I looked up to find Dusty regarding me with his eyebrows raised.
“Yeah?”
“Talking about my pants isn’t really helping with my current situation.” He gestured in the vicinity of his situation. How long was that going to be a problem for him? Should I offer to leave?
“Sure thing.” I went back to petting Napoleon while Dusty cut up cheese and then got some crackers out of the cabinet and put them on a paper plate.
“Want some?” he held the plate out to me and I took a few pieces of cheese and some crackers. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t know what else to do.