Page 25 of Jack Frosting

He shrugged. “Just going to check the mail.”

I didn’t buy that for one minute. If this fucker wasn’t going to claim me, I was going to have to play dirty.

Making a beeline for the kitchen, I draped my scarf over the back of a chair and grabbed the milk and chocolate syrup from the fridge.

“No mail?” I asked as Clayton entered.

“I…I must’ve gotten it earlier.”

Right.

“I swear you’re trying to dehydrate me,” I said before pulling up my sweater. “It’s so hot in here.”

Of course, I pretended to struggle to get it off because I knew the sweater pulled up my undershirt. If he were as interested as I assumed, Clayton was getting an eyeful of my abdominals.

“I-I can check the thermostat.”

Once the sweater had cleared my head, I could see he was staring and didn’t seem to be concerned about stopping. It was pure luck that my shirt didn’t fall down to my waistband completely. It left my stomach and lower back exposed and I didn’t fix it. Instead, I turned to reach in the cupboard for a glass and made myself some chocolate milk.

Clayton was still in the room. Apparently, he forgot he was going to check the thermostat.

“Damn it!”

I had been so eager to hydrate that my milk spilled all over my chest.

“I’m going to need to get this soaking right away. Don’t want it to stain.” In a few seconds, I was bare-chested and Clayton was still rapt. I made for the basement door and the laundry room, but Clayton was in the way. If he didn’t take the hint soon, I was going to have to take him in my hand again.

I made a point to insert myself into his bubble. Our faces were mere inches apart…and he still hadn’t moved or said anything.

“See something you like?” I asked.

Clayton met my gaze, swallowed, and nodded.

“Are you going to do something about it, or should I grab your hand and take you downstairs so you can fuck my mouth?”

“Uh…that. Fuck.”

I leaned forward so I could whisper, “You want me to choke on your thick cock?”

“It’s…not that thick.”

“Focus, Clayton,” I said, intertwining my fingers with his. “I need you to say what you want.”

Christ, I needed him to say it. I wanted him to take control, but it was becoming clearer that Clayton found it hard to verbalize his needs. I’d have to guide him.

“I don’t know if I can, Jack.” He sounded breathless.

“Is it difficult to admit that? Is it hard”–I put my other hand on his waist–“to take what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’re making good progress. Let’s go downstairs.” I pulled and he followed me to the door.

“But Henry…”

I held in my sigh, knowing he was likely either nervous to be with a man or afraid of what Henry would think if he knew. I feared it was too much for him to handle. We needed to get naked.

“Well, you’ll just have to keep your screaming to a minimum while you’re pistoning in and out of my mouth now, won’t you?” He let me guide him ahead of me and down the stairs. “As soon as you’re in my bedroom, you can take all your clothes off.”