Page 32 of Except You
“Oh,” he waggles his eyebrows at me, teasing me. Taunting. The little shit.
I take the next exit and Beau is giggling in his seat when I pull the car over on the side of the off-ramp. When he refuses to sit the right way, I sigh and stomp out and around the car. I wrench his door open and bend down, trying like hell to get him to do what I want, but he fights me the entire way.
Being a brat, per usual, it seems. I think he just likes riling me up.
I undo his seatbelt and grab on to his legs, forcing him forward. He sighs at my touch and leans into me, his face nuzzling my neck and shoulder.
“Don’t think you can just get out of it by being cute,” I grumble, and he nips at my ear.
“You adore me.”
I feel my cheeks heat at that word, but I don’t acknowledge it, just gently grab his neck and push him back into his seat.
His pupils are blown out, his mouth opened in a pant.
“Oh my, Max. This is really doing it for me.”
It’s a teasing remark, but it makes my entire body flame. I should wrench my hand away, should stalk back to my side of the car. But I just let my thumb settle over his pulse point and feel his heart rate frantically throb.
My face is positioned over his, and I can feel the puff of his breath on my cheek. It’s all too much, and I really need to let go.
I fucking need to let go.
“Maybe you are a bad boy. A real bad one,” Beau says with a small grin, and I shake my head, pulling away and letting my hand drop to my side. Beau adjusts himself in his seat and clicks the seatbelt back on while I move to the driver’s side. My dick is… Well, it’s half hard from that, and I wonder what the hell is wrong with me.
I shake it off and realize that perhaps I need to get laid.
It’s just a response to not having gotten any in a long time.
And maybe my hand isn’t working as well as I want it to.
Yeah, that’s all this is.
“Oh, I want to stop for snacks,” Beau says after another hour of driving. We’re halfway there and he’s already gone through about five bars of chocolate.
“You can’t wait?” I ask, and Beau shakes his head.
“I need snacks. I’m a snacker.”
“Okay, fine. There’s a gas station up here,” I say, pulling off at the next exit and grabbing gas while I can.
Beau disappears inside, and I pump an extra twenty dollars into my tank and then let Doggo out for a bathroom break before following him inside. I have a feeling that waiting for Beau would do more harm than good, and I could be waiting hours as he peruses.
And just as I suspected, as soon as I’m inside the small, dingy shop, I see Beau in the snack aisle, his fingers tapping his lips, his brow scrunched in concentration.
Those lips of his are still a dark red from that slushie, and I force myself not to look at them. But even still, I wonder if they’d taste like cherries.
“Hey,” I say as I sidle up next to him. “Making a really difficult decision, huh?”
“Oh, yes. There are far too many choices. I may have to spend the night here to really solidify my decision.”
“I have a sleeping bag in my car. Want me to bring it in?”
He rolls his eyes. “You are an enabler.”
I stare at the rack of food and nudge him. “So, what kind of food are you looking for? What kind of snacks do you need after consuming all that sugar?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking salty.”