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Not just any name.
My name.
My heart turned over in my chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was because all blood flow in my body had been diverted to my dick or if it was because I was afraid he’d caught me watching.
But his tone wasn’t one of surprise. Nope. My name had been dipped in pleasure and run over his tongue like he wished it was my hand getting him off instead of his own. I hated that he’d apparently shut the door on the sexual side of our relationship. If he hadn’t, we would have been fucking to pass the time on the airplane instead of watching hobbits journey to Mordor.
Personally, I would have preferred joining the mile-high club to high fantasy, and thoughts of what it would have been like to thrust into Cal on the plush leather seats of Reuben’s jet zipped through my brain. I could see Cal spread out for me, his hands secured above his head with the seat belt binding his wrists, his head thrown back while I pumped into him hard and fast, his body sliding over the leather with every slap of my body against his, his hard, leaking cock bouncing between us as he begged me to jerk him off. Since his hands were bound, he wouldn’t be able to do it, and I’d make him wait, driving into him relentlesslyuntil he couldn’t take it anymore. Only then would I give him what he wanted, and his relief would be so sweet, so intense, that he’d come after barely more than a stroke, painting my fingers and our chests with his cum. I’d make him watch me lick it all off before I drove into him again, getting myself off and filling him with every drop of my release.
The scene in my head was so vivid I was close to coming. My cock was sticky with precum, and I squeezed the base to stave off my orgasm. With my other hand, I twisted the doorknob and silently pulled the door shut before turning my back to it and spitting into my palm. It wasn’t enough lube, but the friction felt perfect as I worked myself over the edge, coming into my fist after what felt like only a handful of strokes.
Too late, I realized I had a slight dilemma. I had no way to get rid of the cum now cooling in my hand. Cal was still monopolizing the bathroom, and the bastard had stolen my towel. The sheets were out, and I didn’t see a box of tissues anywhere. Pulling open the bedside table drawers confirmed there wasn’t a box hiding out of sight. Which left just one option. My duffel lay partially open on the bed, the clothes I’d worn on the plane tossed on one of the leather chairs in the sitting area. I hadn’t packed a ton when I’d left home since I knew this mission would have me circling the world, and I hated to sacrifice a T-shirt this way, but desperate times and all that shit. Picking up my shirt, I wiped my palm clean and tossed the shirt back on the chair. I’d either see if I could use Reuben’s washer before we took off, or I’d stash it in the bottom of my bag.
The water in the bathroom shut off right as I finished cleaning up. I waited until I heard the adjoining door shut before I snuck into the bathroom. Since I was smarter than Cal, I flipped the lock on his door and made quick work of showering.
When I was done and had a new fluffy towel wrapped around my waist, I glanced at the remaining towels stacked neatly onthe shelf by the shower. Without stopping to consider my actions for more than a moment, I grabbed the whole pile and the used towel Cal had left hanging on the hook on the back of the door leading to his room and took all of it back to my room, stashing it in the closet. Let’s see how he felt having to do without a towel.
Was it immature to engage in this tit for tat with Cal? Absolutely. Did I care? Absolutely not. It felt like an odd sort of foreplay to mess with him, and I got a little thrill when he did the same to me.
I’d just slipped on a pair of basketball shorts and grabbed a bunch of grapes off the tray Reuben had given me when there was a knock on my door. I knew it was Cal, so I flung the door open.
His perusal started at my navel and traveled up over my naked chest, stopping at my lips before continuing to my eyes. “I’m starving.”
Somehow, I didn’t think he just meant for food, and because I loved to rile him up, I lifted the bunch of grapes to my mouth and plucked one off with my teeth.
Cal groaned. “Where’d you get those?” He looked past me into the room, spotting the tray. He shouldered me aside and made himself comfortable on one of the low leather chairs—the same chair that the shirt I’d used to clean up my cum was draped over—and grabbed a few cubes of cheese and his own bunch of grapes.
Grabbing the shirt, I tossed it onto the bed while Cal ate. I also grabbed a clean shirt from my bag and pulled it over my head as I took a seat in the other chair. “I don’t know if I’m inclined to share.”
“What? Why not?” His words were muffled around his mouthful of food.
“Because you stole my towel, you ass.”
Cal snorted and swallowed. “Sorry, not sorry.” He grabbed more food from the tray, this time using one of the little white plates and piling it high. He sat back like he was planning to stay for a while.
“You can take that to go, you know?”
“Yeah, but this”—he nodded down at his plate—“isn’t going to be enough, so why leave?”
Great. More time with Cal where I couldn’t put my hands on him. Or maybe that was exactly the kind of persuasion he needed. My mind started to wander to how I could get Cal to give in.
But was that even fair when we had a job to do and he clearly had his reasons—not that he’d shared them with me or would—for why he suddenly wasn’t interested in anything physical?
Maybe I needed to put the idea of us tangled together to bed.
For a while, we ate in silence, both of us on the edge of too hungry and too tired to snark at each other. When we’d demolished the food on the tray, Cal sat back and rubbed his stomach. “I needed that.”
“Yeah? Are you going to blame being hangry on why you were an ass earlier?”
“Pretty sure you’re the one who bit me.”
“I told you it was an accident, and I only bit you because you punted me across the pool.”
“I tried to warn you that you should be scared of swimming with me.”
And I was scared, but not for the reasons Cal thought. I was scared of what spending even more time with him was going to do to my head.
And my heart.
