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It took serious balls to work in customer service, especially when it came to people’s food.
Good thing I had them.
For a few seconds, I thought Cade was going to reject me then and there based on my job alone. College student by day, fast food employee by night, didn’t exactly sound impressive.
But hey, those student loans weren’t going to pull a vanishing act any time soon. He leaned in, though, cupping my ass and tugging me closer. “You smell good enough to eat.”
He sounded like a fucking amateur porn star trying to recover from a bad take.
I choked back a snicker, choosing to kiss him instead of commenting. He was too close to my cock, and I didn’t exactly want to get kneed in the groin, thanks. The amusement faded as our kisses became more and more feverish, as his hand found my cock and slowly slid along the shaft. I groaned, thrusting my cock into his hand.
“Get on the bed,” he urged. “Ass up, gorgeous.”
I realized then that we hadn’t had the talk. You know, the one where I told people that even though I looked like a goddamn twink, that did not mean I dreamt about taking it up the ass, thank you very much. “I don’t bottom,” I informed him.
Cade stroked my cock slowly, wheedling, “Just this once?”
“Gonna suck my cock if I take it like a big boy?” I challenged.
He grinned, the look surprisingly wolfish. “Deal.”
All right, so maybe it was worth it to get a nice blow job out of it. It wasn’t like I’d never played on the receiving end before, and it had been a fucking week since I’d managed to find someone worth the time.
Desperation was never pretty, but I wasn’t the celibate type.
He grabbed the lube, playing the part of the considerate lover. He opened me up with those slick fingers, even had me moaning for more. I expected to hear the sound of a condom wrapper being ripped open, but instead, I felt the blunt head of his cock at my ass.
“Condom!” I reminded him, my voice sharp.
Like hell was I going to risk my ass — literally — again. I’d learned my lesson pretty fucking fast when the guy I was screwing in high school had an STD scare, and that had been with us using a condom. I could only imagine how girls had to feel. Even as bad as the diseases were, they didn’t result in a parasite living in them for almost a year.
At least, I didn’t think so.
“I’m clean,” Cade informed me.
I squirmed away from him, and he let go — thank fucking God or whatever the hell had him listening. “Nope. Nope, nope, and nope.”
“You’re not?” he asked, staring at me as I pulled away.
“I am,” I shot back harshly. “Clean, that is.”
“So what’s the fucking problem, Owen?”
Hey, the dude remembered my name. That was pretty impressive right then and there. “I don’t do bareback.”
“It feels so much bet—”
“You can just stop that spiel right there,” I told him, hopping up and trying to find my sock. How the fuck was I wearing just one?
“Oh, don’t be that way,” Cade said, sliding off the bed.
“What way?” I demanded, giving up on the sock and grabbing my pants instead. “Careful?”
“You’re acting like I’m gonna knock you up or some shit. I’m clean, you’re clean, what’s the problem?”
“That right there,” I informed him, tucking my briefs in my back pocket and stalking into the living room to find my shirt. “Bet you tell that to all the boys. But how many guys have you fucked since you got tested last?”
His silence spoke volumes.
