Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Riley

My heart was racing as we walked to the car.

For starters, Eric was hot. The guy was most certainly above my grade level when it came to the dating pool. Plus, judging by his bold fashion sense and his flawless skin, I’d garner he was in his late twenties, which meant he was at least a good ten years my junior.

While he’d agreed to the terms of winning and losing—being my date —he didn’t’ seem all that into it.

Or me.

And then on top of everything, I damn smacked the man in the balls—by accident, I swear—and now was trying to make up for my eternal fuck ups by at least giving him a ride home.

Maybe I’m just not cut out for dating in 2024.

I sighed in defeat, hoping that perhaps we could put this bullshit behind us, and maybe I could just tell him not to worry about the wedding.

I’d come up with some line or excuse for Aaron, and we could both just forget this whole thing ever happened.

I opened the passenger door to my blue sedan before he could do so himself.

I am, if anything, a gentleman, plus I did feel bad about hitting him in the balls earlier.

Eric’s blue eyes sparkled in the parking lot light, surprised by the gesture.

“Thanks,” he said, visibly swallowing.

“It’s the least I can do,” I said, waiting for him to take a seat before closing the door.

“Right,” he said.

Within seconds, I was in the driver’s seat, turning the car on without thinking.

The audiobook I’d had queued up prior to arrival blared through the speakers, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing if it wasn’t a damn sex scene.

Oh my God!

I tried to turn the app off on my phone, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Shit!” I said as I fumbled for the right button to turn it off through the car speakers.

I took him into the back of my throat in one fell swoop until I couldn’t breathe, his deep groan only making my own cock throb even more as he grabbed me by the back of my hair... “You take this cock so good, baby... just like Daddy likes it.”

“I’m so sorry about this,” I said, as I bashed my fingers against the display, trying to stop the most embarrassing moment of my life.

Yeah, there’s no way this guy would go anywhere with me now.

Probably thinks I’m an absolute perv.

Fuck. My. Life.

Eric smirked devilishly as I finally managed to get the damn button to work and stop the dirty words from tumbling through my speakers. I looked at him, legs crossed with his velve jacket in his lap, his head in his hands, thumb pressed to his mouth. He looked... amused.

“You seem to be doing a lot of apologizing tonight, Riley,” he said, his voice dark and gravelly. “Your grievances are stacking up.”

I couldn’t help but turn scarlet at his tone, his words. “I know, I just...”

“Didn’t think you were the audio porn type,” he said with a raised eyebrow as I tapped my maps on the display.

“I’m not, it’s not... it’s not porn, it’s literature,” I defended.

Eric laughed. “Funny, historians say the same thing about the Marquis De Sade,” Eric shrugged.

“Your address,” I said bluntly, trying to steer the conversation away from where it was headed. Eric looked piqued, his grin deliciously provocative and his gaze intrigued. But I wasn’t about to let a poignantly voiced sex scene carry us all the way home.

For starters, as I sat with my foot poised above the gas, I was acutely aware of all the blood rushing to my swollen cock, and the sight of Eric in my car, looking like sex on a stick combined with the lusty tones of my latest M/M smutty read, would be enough to crucify me forever.

I’d never live this night down in my own mind if I came in my pants like a damn teenager.

I was thirty-eight years old, for God’s sake. Surely I could keep my dick in line for what, thirty minutes?

Eric shifted in his seat, his eyes dark with mischief. “You didn’t say please,” he touted.

I let out a choked laugh, swallowing my pride and my embarrassment as I implored him with my gaze.

“Please, Eric,” I said softly, my pulse racing.

“Well, since you asked so nicely, and you are so keen on making up to me,” he said as he leaned forward, tapping against the letters on the display, never looking at me once.

“But you should know for future reference, the correct answer is, ‘Yes, Daddy .’.”

My cock throbbed at his tone, his words, my mortification heating my body like a boiling pot.

Wait a minute... Was he... was he flirting with me?

“F... future reference?” I asked as he hit the green ‘go’ button, a sly grin on his face.

I threw the car into drive as he sat back languidly.

“Well, I am a man of my word, Riley, and the deal was I will accompany you to your little firehall wedding.”

I scoffed at the idea of anyone calling Giselle’s taste mediocre, or insinuating her wedding at the damn Paradise would be anything but black tie, or little in any manner. But then again, Eric had no idea Aaron was engaged to the Blake Lively of Jasper Springs, and how could he? He’d gone to the bathroom when Giselle kissed Aaron goodbye, heading home with Mia.

Not to mention, I didn’t even know if Eric was a Jasper Springs resident, since I’d never seen him before, and as a teacher in this town, I knew almost everyone.

“You don’t... you don’t really have to, you know,” I said with a sigh.

Though the idea of showing up with Eric on my arm anywhere made my entire body stiffen.

He was absolutely gorgeous, and I had a feeling he’d look impeccable in a nice suit, with a tie…

Images pushed forth in my mind of him standing above me, cufflinks shimmering in the light as he gazed down at me, running his hand over his...

No!

Don’t go down that road!

Not now!

I glanced at the address on the maps app, if only to bring myself back to the here and now, surprised to notice it was indeed within Jasper Springs. In fact, it was part of Jasper Springs Estates, which I knew was the higher priced condos that housed some of Jasper Springs’s upper crust.

I was pretty damn sure CEO Weston Rhodes and that town celeb, Drew Axel, just moved there, if I’m not mistaken.

The place had been a hot commodity lately.

“Will there be cake?” Eric asked, with a slight laugh.

“I mean, what wedding doesn’t have a cake?” I retorted.

“Will there be alcohol?” he continued.

“I mean, probably top of the line considering it’s Giselle...”

“Will you be all cleaned up and pretty in a nice fucking suit?” he asked, and I felt flushed, nervous.

All cleaned up and pretty...

Did he think... wait...

“Yes...” I squeaked.

“Well then, sounds like it’ll be quite a night, don’t you think?”

I laughed nervously. “I, uh... guess so?”

I passed the sign that read Jasper Springs Estates, lit up by the small spotlights. In the darkness, it looked almost ominous.

I cruised down the road, looking for his address number, focusing on anything but him.

“There,” he pointed to a sleek, gray condominium. The spotlights in the yard cast shadows on it, illuminating it vividly.

The car rolled to a stop, and I turned it off, opening my door as Eric moved to open his.

When I came around to his side, he was just shutting the door. He fell back against the car for a moment, his gaze flashing up at me.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, but his voice wasn’t angry. It was curious. He didn’t move. Instead, he just looked at me in question.

“Walking you to your door, obviously,” I said, shaking my head.

“You don’t have to do that,” Eric said, shifting his weight, holding his jacket in front of him like a barrier.

I leaned against the car, biting my lip as I looked back at him. There was something about him that called to my inner gentleman. His apprehension at my polite conversation, at my opening of the car door.

I wondered about the partners in his life who hadn’t shown him such etiquette.

That was another reason I despised trying to date in this day and age. Most men were the epitome of I can do it myself. I’d been told as much before, which made me feel quite ancient, despite the fact I wasn’t even forty yet.

“I know, but…” I swallowed nervously as I offered him my arm. “Humor me?”

He looked at my arm like I’d grown three heads, and for a moment I didn’t think he’d take it. But when his hand grasped my arm, just the slightest, I couldn’t help but grin as I pulled him away from the car, slowly guiding us up his sidewalk, the air crisp against my skin.

It wasn’t a long walk by any means, and we were on his porch within seconds. Eric dropped his hand, sliding it into his pockets for his keys.

I stood politely, waiting to watch him enter the door before I bounded back to my car, but he stood there for a moment in silence before he spoke.

“When’s the last time you had fun, Riley?” he said, furrowing his eyebrows, forcing me to look at him in question.

“I beg your pardon?” I asked, confused by his question. It wasn’t what I had expected.

“And I don’t mean the kind of fun that ends with you home before midnight,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m talking about real honest to God, fun. ” His voice came out dark and inviting, sending a chill snaking down my spine.

I wondered momentarily if his definition of fun differed from mine, almost sure that it did.

I paused, considering his question. I’d gone on the trip to Brideshead recently, but it wasn’t what I’d call fun. I’d enjoyed myself, sure, as anyone in the beautiful expanse of nature with copious amounts of alcohol would. But I wasn’t into drinking like the rest of my party mates, nor was I into watching everyone drunkenly make out.

I thought about the trips I took with my TA and my students every year. Last year we’d gone to Italy, and while I most certainly enjoyed myself, it was still awkward, at times. Mostly because I was the only single adult gay man on vacay, and engaging in any sort of romantic liaisons—or one night stands—was out of the question. My focus was on keeping my kids safe.

And sharing a room with my bestie slash coworker while also responsible for one hundred teenagers in a foreign country is not something I would call fun either. Not to mention, most of my free time during the year, and even in the summer, was devoted to volunteering for school events, programs, and curriculum.

I twisted my hands together, feeling the sweat overtake me. I wiped them on my pants, if only because the sudden heat as Eric stared at me was making me feel on display. I closed my eyes, and I sighed.

I could have told him anything, but instead I settled on the truth.

“It’s been a while, I guess,” I said.

Eric shifted.

“A while, huh?” he asked as he nodded at me, moving closer.

I looked down at the sliver of space between us. A part of me wanted to move closer, meet him halfway. To reach out and run my hands through his hair, and let myself have a little bit of fun .

To tease, to touch.

But I barely knew Eric, and I certainly didn’t want to come off as one of those assholes who just took things without asking.

Eric clicked his tongue for a moment, before speaking. From this angle, I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck, the scent of whiskey and beer prevalent from his drinks earlier.

“Give me your phone,” he commanded.

Every bone in my body, including the unruly one throbbing against my briefs stood at attention.

Because it wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it.

With authority, with demand. It was the sexiest tone I’d ever heard a man use, and it made me want to drop to my knees on his fucking porch.

Maybe the smutty audiobooks were warping my brain.

Wordlessly, I drew my phone from my pocket, handing it to him. My hands were sweaty as he pulled it from me, his fingers grazing over my knuckles, sending fresh jolts of electricity racing through my veins.

I watched the light fall on his face, my heart in my throat. He tapped away furiously before handing me back my phone with a stoic gaze. I had a good amount of height on him, and I couldn’t deny that the way he looked up at me, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief, made me feel as if I could melt into a puddle on his porch.

“Well, if we’re going to do this, we should probably have a little fun with it. So, next time you want to stay out past your bedtime Cinderella, give me a call,” he said as he turned around, inserted his keys in the lock, and then left me standing there, hard and wanting in a state of blissful confusion as I stared at his number on my phone. Conveniently written in as Eric Olsen with a legit eggplant emoji.

What was the eggplant supposed to symbolize again?