6. Chapter Five

“Ollie!”

Deacon’s voice has me turning around. I give him a bright smile, my cheeks reddening a bit because he is very good looking and exudes a charm I can’t put my finger on.

“Hey, Deacon.”

“It’s good to see you out and about.” He turns to Ash and Morgan. “Ladies.”

“Hey, Deacon,” they say in unison.

He bends down, handing me a fresh drink.

I shake my head. “I didn’t order another yet.”

He grins, showing a sharp point of his teeth. I’ve never noticed that before. “The guy at the bar bought it for you. I think you should go say hi. He’s a nice guy.” He slides the drink in front of me.

The breath whooshes from my lungs because who in their right mind would buy me a drink?

“Is… this a joke?” I blurt, embarrassment washing over me. I pick at the string coming loose from the hem of my shirt, knowing I shouldn’t have come out tonight. I don’t like attention. When I get it, it is usually bad. Either someone wants to hit me, or someone wants to make fun of me, and I don’t want anything to do with that.

It’s why I stick to myself.

“Hey,” Deacon’s voice deepens to a rough level that has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. “I’d never do that to you. You’re a good person, Ollie. The guy at the bar wouldn’t stop talking about you. He’s nervous to meet you. I think you should give him a chance. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

I peek over my shoulder to see who he is talking about and the man I’ve been seeing— I think— I’ve been seeing smiles at me, giving a friendly wave and welcoming smile.

A lurch in my chest blooms, an invisible rope trying to tug me to the man. I want to listen to it, but I’ve learned not to trust anything I feel.

“Oh, wow,” I breathe out, the admission slipping from my lips before I can think. The man at the bar glances down, grinning as if he heard me.

That’s impossible. The crowd is loud, and the music is blaring. Everyone has to yell to talk to one another.

I stare at the drink, the condensation dripping from the glass and onto the table. I pick it up and set it on a coaster, wiping the wet ring away.

“I don’t know. Tell him, thank you?”

“Ollie!” Morgan yells at me, giving me round eyes and a look of dismay. “You have to go up there and talk to him.”

“You deserve it!” Ashley agrees with her friend, ganging up on me. “You should go. Go meet him. Have fun. Maybe dance. Get frisky.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

I hide behind the new drink, taking a sip of the cool beverage that decreases the temperature building inside me. It’s hot in here. So hot.

“You’re nervous,” Deacon states. “Don’t be. You have nothing to worry about.”

Other than the fact I’ve only kissed a few guys and given a few hand jobs, but that’s it. I don’t know what I’m doing. And how the hell do I impress a man like the one sitting at the bar?

“You won’t regret it.” Deacon winks, backing away from me to go back to his customers waiting at the bar.

I watch him exchange a few words with the man who bought me the drink, then I quickly turn away when he stands from his seat, then begins walking over to me.

“Oh my God, he’s coming over here. What do I do? Let’s go. I need to go. Let’s run,” I blurt, a bit panicked. Sweat beads on my upper lip and I wipe it away.

“Oh, he is hot, Ollie,” Morgan appreciates, biting her lip while her eyes roam him up and down. “You are sure you don’t want him?”

I narrow my eyes at my new friend. “Back off, Morgan.” I hold a hand over my mouth, shocked I spoke to her like that. My tone was downright rude.

Ashley and Morgan giggle, giving one another knowing glances when a hand lands on the table, as close to my hand as he can get. I hold my breath, too afraid to move, to speak, because if I do, I’ll mess everything up.

“I love that you’re already possessive of me.”

“We are just… going to go…” Morgan rolls her lips together, pointing to the dance floor. “That way.”

“Yeah, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Ashley blows me a kiss and they leave me alone with a man I don’t know!

I shake my head, trying to get them to stay, but Morgan drags Ashley away and my boss, and so-called friend, give me a little finger wave.

“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. If you want me to leave, just say the word, and I will.”

“You’ll give up that easily?” I turn to him, taking the drink he bought me in my hand.

I hold myself against the table, my entire body swaying closer to his as if he is a magnet. He is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. He has raven black hair and bright green eyes that have this glow to them I’ve never seen before. His cheekbones are high, cut, and defined while his jaw is sculpted at the perfect angle.

The man could be a model.

And I’m just… me.

Messy hair. Messy life.

Me.

“Give up?” He scoots the chair closer, his eyes roaming all over me.

I feel exposed by how long he checks me out. I take a sip of my drink to help the heat flushing my face.

“I’d never give up on you, but I would be persistent.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Ambrose Ellis.”

I tilt my chin up, sliding my hand into his, and a rightness settles in my chest. It’s like a shift happened and my heart finally has a home. I almost forget how to breathe. Everything around me fades, the loudness of the crowd, the bass of the music, and all I feel is him.

“Oliver Grandie,” I finally manage to pull my tongue away from the roof of my mouth. “My friends call me Ollie.”

“Mmm,” he hums, bringing my hand to his lips. His eyes close and his shoulders raise as he inhales before giving me a kiss across my knuckles. “I do not plan to call you Ollie.” He rubs my knuckles across his lips and a tingle shoots up my arm. His mouth grazes back and forth. My heart trips over itself, forgetting to beat properly.

“No?” I rasp.

He shakes his head. “I do not plan to be your friend.”

I frown, trying to tug my hand away, but he holds on tight, refusing to let me go. Ambrose leans down between my legs.

“What are you—“

He smirks, bypassing what I thought he was about to grab, and clutches the edge of the chair, pulling me closer to him until I can feel his breath across my cheek.

“Oh,” is all I manage to say, stunned by how close I am to him. He smells so good, like smoke, fire, and late nights.

Nothing good happens after midnight, and I have a feeling Ambrose Ellis is what is waiting after the clock strikes.

“I plan on being so much more than your friend, Ollie.” He tugs at one of my estranged curls. “I plan on consuming you and every inch of your life. I’m going to be the man you come to when you need help, when you need to be touched, when you need someone other than yourself. I’m going to make you love me. That’s my plan.”

I lick my lips. I have no idea what to say to that. I’ve never had anyone say things like that to me.

His eyes roll to the back of his head as he inhales. “You like that, don’t you?” He slips his fingers under my chin, gently forcing me to look at him. “You do. You don’t have to be afraid to tell me what you want. I’ll give you everything, Oliver. Anything you want. It’s yours.”

“Do you say these things to all the men you hit on in bars, Ambrose?” I ask a bit sheepishly, another wave of heat stinging my face. I take my drink again and down it, the cool liquid is watered down and tastes terrible, but it is still refreshing and better than the desert in my throat.

“I haven’t been with another man in—“ he stops himself, the truth catching on his tongue. ”—In many years.”

“How many?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“My curious little kitten,” he croons, rubbing his fingers across my lips. “So determined to find out things that don’t matter.”

“They matter to me. The truth matters to me.”

“I’ll tell you the truth after we get to know each other a bit better. I swear, I’m not hiding anything from you. I would never lie to you. I’ve learned lies only create chaos and I’ve had plenty of that in my life.”

“Me too,” I say, a twinge of sadness seeping through my voice.

“I’ll have to fix that, won’t I?”

“You can’t fix people,” I mutter.

“No,” he agrees, slipping his finger down my neck. His eyes land on the side of my throat. My pulse is strong there. I can feel the skin rising and falling with every stroke of his thumb.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Then he swipes, changing the direction, rubbing soothing circles across the vein. It’s oddly intimate and with every touch, desire builds, and I find myself wanting to lean in and kiss him. I’ve never been forward, but he makes me want to be.

His touch isn’t like anyone else’s. It’s more like a brand, searing into my skin and it has me burning for him from the inside out.

“But I can make sure nothing will ever hurt you again and you can heal.”

His words are hitting too close to home. This connection between us is too intense. I want to tell him every secret, every pain, every moment I’ve endured, and I want to say it all while he is holding me. I’ve never felt this way before.

“You’re afraid of me,” he frowns, leaning back to give me some space. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so intense. I feel very big emotions for you already, Kitten. I apologize for coming on so strong.”

“I’m not afraid. I’m wary,” I say, wanting him to come closer, but I appreciate how considerate he is. “I feel it too, but you need to understand something about me.” I straighten my position so I’m more face-to-face with him. He tilts his head, listening intently to me, his green eyes never fleeting from my own. “I have trust issues. I do not trust other people. I have had bad experiences with so many kinds of people and I’m tired. I’m tired of being let down, I’m tired of being taken advantage of, and I’m tired of being alone, but I’m not willing to risk my mentality for people who don’t give a shit about me, so if you’re serious about this, about more than one night, then you need to know that. I’m not a one-night kind of guy. I’m not sure if I’m a relationship type of guy, but I know I’ll doubt every move you make. I won’t believe everything you say because I’ve been lied to my entire life.” I take a deep breath, downing the rest of my drink. I probably shouldn’t have blurted all that out like that, but it’s only fair to know what to expect from me. “I won’t be easy.”

“Nothing good in life is,” he states, scooting closer to the edge of his seat until his knees touch mine.

Even the slight bump of his leg against mine has fire bolting through my system. My entire body is electrified, my cock slowly filling in my jeans, and I swallow, angling my body away so he doesn’t see it.

“It doesn’t bother me that you have trust issues. I’ll earn your trust in time just like you’ll earn my truth in time.” He holds out a hand. “Deal?”

I grin, slipping my hand in his. “Deal.”

He pulls me closer until our noses touch.

I gasp, my eyes glancing to his mouth. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life, My Curious Kitten.” He stands, holding out his hand just as a song changes to something slower. “Dance with me.”

“Here?” I know the town is friendly toward gay people, but I’ve never danced with another man before.

“Right here.” He takes my hand and helps me to my feet, pulling me to the dance floor.

He spins me around, his back toward Ashley and Morgan, but I have a clear view of them. They give me the thumbs up, grinning like two mischievous teenage girls.

I stumble over Ambrose’s feet, but he catches me, wrapping me in his arms until my chest is pressed against his.

“I have you.” His deep voice has me closing my eyes, getting lost in the tone, the depth, the luxury of the vibrato. His wide hand sweeps across my back, nearly covering the entire expanse of my frame. His fingers slide up my spine, cupping the back of my neck, and I swear, they engulf me. I feel his thumb pressing against the middle of my throat and his others kneading my pulse.

Why are big hands so attractive? My knees wobble, becoming weak, and if it weren’t for him holding me up, I’d fall.

“Don’t dance often?” he asks, spinning me around before pulling me in until I’m pressed against his chest again.

“I’ve never danced,” I admit sheepishly, never taking my eyes from my feet. I’m too nervous I’ll step on them.

“Never? I’m surprised. Prom? Anything like that.”

I shake my head, my curls bouncing from the momentum. “I didn’t go to prom. I didn’t have that kind of life. Men don’t really talk to me. I mean— look at me.” I give a pitiful chuckle.

A growl captures my attention and I dart my eyes around the room to see if there is a dog, but I realize the vibrations are coming from Ambrose’s chest. He grabs my chin, hard and demanding, creating another wave of lust to course through me. I swallow so hard that if the music wasn’t playing, I know he would be able to hear it.

His gorgeous forest-dipped irises dart between mine, a hard wrinkle between his brow by the angry scowl on his face. There is an odd tint to his eyes, a red hue, but that has to be the lighting.

“I am looking at you and you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Don’t talk about yourself like that.” He cups the side of my face, his palm possessing my cheek, then rubs his thumb across my jaw. “Every part of you is astonishing to me.” His finger rubs under my eye next, a small smirk pulling on his lips. “Your eyes are portals to hope, something I haven’t felt in quite some time.”

“I’ve always been told I have girly eyes,” I say, repeating what was always beaten into me in foster care.

“They are beautiful. Brown with flecks of gold and your dark eyelashes are long and curly. They might be more feminine than a regular man, but it’s what sets you apart. While all the other men are average, you are a beauty, beyond anything they could ever comprehend or understand.”

I shake my head, trying so hard to let his words roll off my shoulders. I don’t understand why he is saying such sweet things. No one has ever spoken to me like that before. Ever.

“What do you want, Ambrose? Men don’t talk like this. People don’t talk like you do. Are you trying to get into my pants? I mean—“

”—I’d love nothing more than to devour your body, but in time. I’m not in a hurry, My Curious Kitten. Always so many questions. I like that.”

“Even if you didn’t, can you just lie to me?” I place my head on his chest, wrapping my arms around him, wanting more of the safety he brings.

“I thought you didn’t like lies?”

“Just for now,” I sigh, holding him tighter. “I like how you make me feel too much.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not lying then.” He places his cheek on top of my head as we stand there and sway.

We aren’t dancing. Not at this point. We are holding one another, and I am starting to wonder if he really is interested in me. If he isn’t, he is an amazing actor, but it doesn’t feel like a lie. This feels... beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before.

Whatever truth he is waiting to tell me, I’m excited to know. His waiting means he wants to see me again, and that thought alone has me pressing a smile against his chest.

“Hey guys!” Deacon calls out from the bar.

I lift my head from Ambrose’s chest, but not unwinding my arms from his body. I’m not ready to let him go.

“We closed ten minutes ago. You two are the only ones left. I hate to break up the party, but I want to go home.”

I step away from Ambrose, frantically spinning around to see Deacon telling the truth. We are the only ones here.

“Oh my gosh, when did that happen? Why didn’t we hear anyone leaving?”

Deacon shrugs. “Music hasn’t been playing for thirty minutes. You two seemed like you really hit it off. No one wanted to bother you.”

I dig into my pocket for my phone and see a few messages in a new group chat.

Ashley: “Yes, Ollie. Oh my gosh, that man is gorgeous. You have to tell us everything.”

Morgan: “The way he was looking at you! Made me need to fan myself.”

Ashley: “Sorry we left without saying bye, you two seemed like you were in your own world.”

Morgan: “And it was adorable. Tell us when you get home.”

“Can I walk you to your car, Kitten?”

“I’d like that,” I state, my voice raspy.

He takes my hand and I follow behind him, admiring the curve of his backside. There’s something different about him. I can’t put my finger on it, but he seems like he is from another world. It’s how he is, how he carries himself, how he dresses. Everything about him should have my alarms ringing in my head, but they are silent.

“Keys?”

I hand them over without question.

“Are you safe to drive? You had a few drinks. I want to make sure you get home okay.”

“I’m fine, Ambrose. I promise.”

He gives a firm nod before opening the door for me. I step to get inside but he grabs the back of my neck and before I can say anything, his lips are on mine.

Ambrose keeps his hand on my nape, cups my jaw with the other, and then presses me against the door until it shuts, pinning me against it. I groan into his mouth, my arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, needing to feel him. I need more.

So much more.

He snarls down my throat and I drink it in, wanting the primal sound embedded in my bones. Another moan slips from me just as I grip his expensive suit, wanting more skin.

Wanting… more.

So much more.

A sharp pinch on my lip has my eyes closing while an orgasm threatens, building in my aching cock while I rub it against his. We gasp, breaking the kiss only for a second before turning our heads, changing direction before he is swooping in again. Another prick on my bottom lip has me whimpering. He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, his wet tongue flicking across it as if he is trying to ring it out. My fingers dig into his suit, and I yank on the lapels, wanting his body closer to mine. I know it’s impossible. We are as close as we can get without getting naked.

I want to get naked. I want to give him everything. I have no idea why, but I feel made for him. It’s ridiculous and maybe I’m swept up in this moment of heat, but I don’t care. I need to feel him against me, on me, inside me.

“You taste so fucking good,” he grates, his throat rough and wild as if a monster is inside him and he is trying to keep the beast on a tight leash to not lose control. “Oh my fucking God, the taste of you alone. Feel what you do to me.” He takes my hand, skimming it down his chest, then stopping at his cock. He slides my palm across his length. My breathing speeds up, a quick pant leaving my lips as every fabric-covered inch glides across my hand. He’s big. The length feels never-ending, and the girth is wide. I don’t know how I’d ever be able to take it, but I would for him. I’d do anything for him, I realize.

And that’s so dangerous. That is beyond the normal. These feelings for him go against everything I’ve taught myself over the years.

“Feel that?” he growls, the warm breath ghosting over my cheek as he whispers against my ear, his swollen lips tempting me to drown myself in another kiss.

There’s a wet spot on his slacks, where the head of his cock stops in the middle of his thigh.

I jerk my eyes up to meet his, my mouth parting in surprise. “You…?”

“Came? Yes, I did. It’s what you do to me. How about you allow me to return the favor?” He lowers himself to his knees, which can’t be comfortable on the rough gravel of the parking lot.

“Um, I’ve never— I haven’t—“ I gulp, tilting my chin down to stare at this man on his knees.

“You’ve never had anyone suck you here, Kitten?” he asks, trailing a finger over my slender erection tenting my jeans.

I shake my head, my fingers digging into his shoulder so hard, I know it has to hurt because my knuckles are turning white.

He glances away, rolling his lips together, and I can’t tell if he is upset or not.

“Are you angry?”

He whips his head around to face me, a flash of red across his eyes again, but there’s no way I saw that. It’s dark outside. There are no lights around besides the streetlamp.

“Angry? I’m barely keeping myself together, Kitten. Does this mean you have never had sex? Are you a virgin, Oliver?” His hand creeps up my leg, then slides around and cups my ass.

“Oh, God,” I groan, tilting my head back until it hits the car.

“No one has ever been inside you?”

I shake my head. “No. I don’t usually let people get so close to me, but I feel like if you don’t touch me right now, I’ll die.”

“I know that feeling all too well.” The zipper of my jeans fills the night with an erotic grind that I’ll play over and over again. It will haunt my dreams. “You have no idea how much that pleases me, Kitten, knowing I’ll be your first.”

“You sound so confident I’ll have sex with you.”

He unbuttons my jeans and tugs them down my hips, slipping his hand into my boxer briefs until his long fingers wrap around my cock.

“Fuck!” I stand on my tiptoes, the simple touch almost too much for me to handle.

He chuckles. “You’ll have sex with me, Oliver. Again—“ he slightly tugs at my boxer briefs. “And again.” The fabric slips down my hips more. “And again.”

My cock bobs free causing embarrassment to flood my body. I’m nowhere near as big as him. I’m average and slender. It’s nothing impressive.

That primal growl he makes fills the night as he wraps his hand around me. My cock vanishes in his large grasp, and I try not to be ashamed, but maybe he expected more.

“You’re so perfect. Look how beautiful this cock is, Oliver. The perfect mouthful.” With my next breath, his mouth is around me, and fuck, it’s hot and wet perfection.

I’m not going to last.

“Ambrose. Holy— oh God.” I grip him by the roots of his hair, unable to rip my eyes from the view below me. I don’t know how I ended up with a man like him on his knees in a damn parking lot, but I’m never going to complain.

He sucks deep and hard, the suction of his cheeks is soft and massages every sensitive inch. My mind is a blur. I can’t think of a coherent thought.

“Your mouth is so damn good. Don’t stop, Ambrose. I’m close. I’m so close. Fuck, oh, fuck,” I whimper, tapping his shoulder just as his tongue swipes across the crown, stroking the glands as if he has done this a thousand times.

He probably has.

I don’t want to think about that. The thought of anyone else with him has violence spreading through me, and I am not a violent guy.

“Ambrose, I can’t hold it back. I can’t. Oh, shit. Oh, my god. I’m going to come. Don’t stop. Please, let me come. Fuck!” I shout, pulling his head down while I shove my cock into his mouth. The tip of my cock hits the back of his throat right as I fill his mouth with come.

My mouth falls open as I cry out while the best orgasm I’ve ever experienced numbs my entire body. He hums in delight as if my come is the best thing he has ever tasted. He continues to suckle me until I’m soft.

I slip free from his mouth and those green eyes look up at me. His gaze never wanders from mine as he stands. He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb, then slips his finger between my lips.

“Don’t you taste good?”

“I bet you taste better,” I rasp with desire, lust still controlling my tongue.

“What’s going on here?” a voice booms from behind Ambrose, then a light flashes in my eyes.

I hiss from how bright it is and hold my hand up.

“Don’t say a word. I’ll handle this, Kitten. Okay?” He tucks me back into my pants and zips me up.

I nod, not wanting to get involved.

“Officer, how can we help you?” Ambrose spins to greet him.

I don’t like authority. I begin to tremble, fear solidifying my bones to cause me to stand still.

“I’m arresting you for—“

”—You aren’t doing anything,“ Ambrose states, but his voice is calm, soothing, and the cop falls silent. “You’ll turn around and forget you saw me sucking my Beloved’s cock.”

I blush from his crass words, but then wonder what he means by the word beloved. It’s an interesting term of endearment I haven’t heard before.

“That sounds right. I hope you two have a good night” The cop grabs the brim of his hat, bows his head, and gets into his car. His taillights glow in the night, fading the further away he gets.

“How did you do that?”

“I have a way with cops.” He shrugs, placing his hands on my waist.

There’s more to it than that. I plan to figure out what it is.

He opens the car door again and the memory of it closing from him pressing me against it flashes in my mind. I’ll never be able to look at that door the same.

“Can I have your number?” he asks. “I want to see you again, Kitten.”

I nibble my lip, nodding. He takes out his phone, his fingers at the ready. I rattle my number off to him, and he saves my name as Curious Kitten.

I giggle, kind of loving the nickname.

“I want to see you tomorrow,” he says just as my phone dings with a text.

“I have to work.”

“Then I’ll see you at work. After, you’ll be mine for the night.”

I lick my lips, imagining all the ways we can spend that night. “The whole night?” I question with flirtation swaying my words as I sit down in the driver’s seat.

He bends down, invading my space. Ambrose reaches for the seatbelt, tugging it over my body, clicking it so I’m safe.

“The entire night, Curious Kitten.” His fingers slide across my cheek. “Having to wait until tomorrow will test my patience. Please, tell me when you get home, okay?”

I nod, leaning into his touch because I don’t want him to go. Emotions of a different kind well inside me.

Sadness.

I don’t want to be without him tonight, but why?

“I promise.” We stare at one another, neither one of us breaking the gaze, neither one of us wanting the night to end.

Neither one of us wanting to be away from one another.

At least, that’s how I feel.

He steps away, grunting in disapproval. “I don’t want to leave you, but if I don’t close this door right now, I won’t be able to control myself.” He bends down again, so fast, he almost looks like a blur.

It has to be the alcohol playing tricks with my mind.

He kisses me once more, but it isn’t the heated, passionate, lust-filled kiss we shared before. This one is a long, tender peck. Our lips don’t move, but they don’t break either.

“Fuck. You’re addicting. Okay, tomorrow.” He kisses my cheek.

“If it helps, it’s already tomorrow. It’s way past midnight. Doesn’t that help?”

“More than you’ll ever know.”

With a heavy regret in his eyes glaring back at me, he shuts the door, taping the hood to signal for me to go.

When the tires crunch against the gravel and I get further away from him, why does it feel like I’m leaving a piece of me behind?