Page 37 of Except You
I might have lied when I said that Max isn’t my type. He totally is.
He’s absolutely a guy I’d fuck. One hundred percent.
Not that he can ever know that. I will not have a crush on this man. It would only end in heartbreak.
And no one has time for that.
“You’re so pretty,” I say, and I can see his eyeballs rolling, even though I really can’t. It’s dark in here, the only light coming from the moon outside the window.
“Shut up.”
“Nah, I think straight guys need to hear how cute they are, occasionally.”
He shifts, turning on his side, his arm tucked under his head. In the shadows, I can make out the bulge of his arm muscles. They’re very nice arms.
It’s not fair how hot he is.
I roll onto my stomach to keep my dick away from him and then scoot a little closer.
“You, Max, are a cutie pie.”
“I will tickle you. You know I’m stronger and can hold you down.”
“Pfft. I know. You showed me that by carrying me all the way in here.”
“You loved it.”
A little too much, I think as I lean over and bite at his arm.
He grunts at the sensation of my teeth sinking into his skin, and I giggle at that.
“I can bite.”
“Seems like it, Dracula.”
I poke at him, and he sends me a warning growl, but that does nothing to dissuade me. The one thing that does deter me though, is my hard dick poking into the mattress. I don’t want him feeling that and getting weird about it.
Not that he’s ever been weird about anything we’ve done, but nothing has been overtly sexual between us. Everything has been platonic.
I need to keep him away from my dick.
My hand retracts, and I place it under the pillow to keep myself from the temptation of touching him again.
“Well, Daddy, I’m going to sleep.”
“Jesus,” he says with a small laugh. “Alright, Bow-tie. See you in the morning.”
I pretend to fall asleep but stay awake far too long, far too horny. Sleeping in bed with this man just might be the end of me.
When I wake up, morning light filtering through the window, I find the spot next to me empty. And thank god for that because I came in my sleep like a teenager. Just a giant splooge right where I’m lying. It seeped through my underwear and pajama pants and onto the sheets.
As soon as I peel myself off the bed with a wince, I gather all the sheets in a bundle and quickly change out of my pajamas. I don’t need my mom commenting on this, but I can’t not wash them. I don’t want Max seeing it and thinking I’m some kind of heathen who can’t control his dick.
I mean, it’s kind of the truth, but I don’t need to announce it.
With a sneakiness I do not normally possess, I walk quietly down the hallway toward the laundry room, and I’m almost home free when Max is suddenly in front of me, his arms folded across his chest.
He’s fully dressed and freshly showered. His hair is still wet, and he looks like a god.