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“Stop hitting me with it and scrub the blood off with it.”
Standing between my thighs, Eli stares down at me like he’s memorizing every inch before he finally says, “I’m gonna need more water.”
Turning around to the cramped kitchen, he opens cabinet door after cabinet door until he finds what he was looking for—a glass.
“God, yes. I’m so thirsty,” I tell his naked backside.
He runs the sink faucet, filling up the glass, then turns around, bringing it over to me…and throws the water on me.
I gasp at the cold surprise of it splashing my face and body, then lap up what my tongue can reach.
Eli is still grinning as he slides back into the booth. “You’re a dick,” I tell him.
“Open wide,” he says as he scoots closer to my head.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
I hesitate for only a moment before parting my dry lips. Leaning over my face, Eli wrings out the damp right side of his hair directly over my waiting mouth.
Beggars can’t be choosers, so I gladly swallow the cool liquid down, tasting the coconut flavor of the shampoo he must have used. He’s close enough that my cuffed right hand can even grasp his bicep.
Eli jolts as if he didn’t realize he had come so close but doesn’t pull away. If anything, he flexes to make the muscle harder, bigger as if he’s trying to impress me. I alreadyknew his arms were thicker than my thighs, so it’s completely unnecessary.
Reaching over, he wrings the left side of his hair into my still open, greedy mouth. As he drops his head a little lower, I close my lips around the strands of hair dangling before me to suck on them while my fingers knead his hard bicep.
I hear Eli suck in a breath, as if he’s getting as turned on as I am from our weird ass flirting or whatever it is we’re currently doing.
Digging my fingers into his bicep, I bite down on his hair, tugging him close enough that I can lick the scratchy scruff of his cheek. He lets out a moan louder than the noises he made when his dick was in my mouth.
And when he turns his head, I stick out my tongue to run it over his parted lips as he stares down at me with a different, softer sort of heat in his eyes. Taking the hint, he presses his lips to mine, a gentle brush at first until my tongue swipes over them again. That’s when he snaps.
His tongue shoves deep into my mouth to do battle with my own. His palm slips under my head, bringing my mouth closer while I keep a grip on his arm.
I feel dizzy, like there’s not enough oxygen in the camper. When Eli’s fingers wrap around my throat and squeeze, it feels like I’m floating. The kiss grows more desperate and I’m not sure if he’s about to kill me or fuck me as everything goes dark.
“Do it already,” I pant against his lips, knowing which option I would prefer.
But Eli only releases my throat like it burned him and pulls back out of my reach. Brow furrowed, he even looks angry as his chest rises and falls. “You taste like my cum.”
“No kidding since it’s all I’ve had to eat today,” I remind him. “And how do you know what your cum tastes like?”
“You’ve never tasted your own spunk?” he asks.
“No.”
“I’ll make sure you do when I finally let you come,” he says, then he slides out of the booth with his small towel, and runs it under the kitchen faucet, then wrings it out. Before coming back, he grabs one of Maddie’s cupcake jars and a fork from a drawer.
As if in a hurry, he rubs the wet towel over my stomach and pelvis, then my dick, cleaning away the blood before tossing it away.
Sliding back into the booth, he pops the top of the mason jar and lays the lid on my chest.
“Which flavor is that one?” I ask him.
He turns the jar around to read the Wicked Delights Cupcake Company sticker. “Blueberry lemon.”
“Nice. That’s one of my faves.”
