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I should count how many times I can get him to use that phrase tonight. Laughing, I kneel up and shed my hoodie jacket. Maybe my muscles will entice him. It’s his turn to watch me with careful eyes. They’re blue with a purple hue overlaying them. I didn’t know eyes like that existed.
“Up,” he says as if he’s some sort of caveman, incapable of using more than one-word sentences.
That deserves the eye roll I give it, but I get up and am crazy enough to extend a hand for him. He ignores it. Fine. His gaze never leaves me, and it definitely says he wants to eat me.
Spinning me around, he smacks my ass. “That way.” He points and I rub my ass. “Before you complain, you shouldn’t have bit me.”
He can’t see my gleeful smirk, which is a good thing. I’m gonna bite him a lot more before this night is through.
We enter his large master bedroom. It’s wall-to-wall glass, with what I’m guessing is a wicked view of the city in the daytime. There are white marble steps leading to his bed, and oh my god his bed. The headboard is built into the wall. It’s low to the ground, or I guess the plateau it sits atop. I know the league’s not paying him enough to afford this. “Must be nice to have rich parents,” I say.
“It really fucking is.” He removes the hoodie he used to conceal his identity—which I say was overkill now that I knowwho it is—and reveals the crisp white t-shirt he’s wearing underneath. It’s V-neck. It accentuates his fake tan. I spy a snake tattoo, winding up his right arm, disappearing under the cap of his t-shirt sleeve. There’s another tattoo on his left forearm. He’s moving too much for me to make it out properly, but I think it’s Roman numerals. Must be an important date.
I’ve got tattoos, too. They all mean something to me.
It dawns on me that we’re about to get naked. Being in locker rooms most of my life, I get naked in front of other men, sometimes many times a day. It never fazes me. But this? It’s giving me a thrill. Since the button of my jeans has already been opened—by him—I move to push them off my ass.
He bats my hands away. “No. I want to do it. Put your hands on my shoulders.”
“Are you always this bossy with your bedmates?” I ask, but I do what he says.
“Not all of them. I’m basking in the glory of finally getting to tell you what to do, Alderchuck.” The smile I get is unnerving because it’s absent of the usual rage I’ve come to expect.
I want to kiss him again. What does that mean?
He only yanks my jeans and boxers down at the back, leaving my cock trapped inside. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to make you pay.”
“There’s a long list of stuff you could make me pay for. You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“For all of it. Everything.”
Oh, God, fuck.
The heat turns up another notch when he removes his shirt, unveiling the thickest abs I’ve ever seen, and the rest of his tattoos. He’s got a few of them. The mean viper coils up his arm, its teeth poised over Sutter’s collarbone. There’s a skull over his left shoulder with some kinda flowers behind it.
I try to take off my shirt, but apparently I’m not allowed to undress myself. This time all it takes is a look for me to drop my hands.
“That’s getting annoying.” I’m being generous with the word “getting”.
“What’s annoying is your disobedient mouth. I’m about to shove a sock in it.”
“No way. Artichoke, or whatever kinky bastards use. You’re not sticking your smelly socks in my mouth.”
“Alright. Then I’ll make you choke on my, what did you call it? Oh right, my monster dick.”
Better, but I don’t tell him.
He doesn’t use his dick, though. It’s his tongue again. I’d complain if he wasn’t so damn good at kissing. They’re full of needy hunger like he can’t get enough of me. His fingers find the crease of my hairy ass and toy between the mounds.
I whine, wanting to be skin-to-skin, and contemplate saying fuck you to his “let me be the one to undress you” rules.
Yeah. Fuck him. Why am I letting Sutter have all the say? Is it something I like? Yeah, but he’s clearly toying with me just to be a fucking prick. This isn’t real. I’m making too much out of his mild gentleness.
I push against his chest; he recoils, not expecting it. I take the opportunity to rip my shirt off. He pushes me back. “What are you doing? I said wait for that.”
“That’s nice, but the hair on my nuts is turning gray. We have planes to be on in the morning.” I feign a yawn like I’m bored, even though I’m the furthest thing from it.
