Chapter 15: Thad

Chapter 15

Thad

Kelley is the sexiest when he’s flustered. Not the kind of anxious fluster he gets when he’s reading stuff he shouldn’t be online, but like this. His hairline is about to eat his eyebrows, but I can see the affirmative glimmer in the way he’s still staring down at me. His hands white-knuckle the shelf behind him, and his lips are parted, but no sound is coming out.

I stroke his cock some more, loving how with every pass, Kelley’s eyelids flutter. “You want my mouth? You want me to deep-throat you until my eyes water and I can barely breathe?”

Kelley’s lip trembles, like he’s trying to say yes but isn’t confident enough.

The other night, he had no problem asking for what he wanted. But that was when it came to things he wanted me to do to him. Not this. Not asking to do something to me.

“You don’t even have to say yes,” I tell him. “Just grip the back of my head and let me do this for you.”

Pfft. For him. Sure. Technically, it is, but I wasn’t lying when I said he has the best cock I’ve ever had in my mouth. He’s long but not too long. Thick but not too thick. He’s the perfect size to blow him confidently without worrying about getting lockjaw.

Some guys don’t like giving blowjobs, and while I love when I’m on the receiving end of one, giving is a whole other experience. It’s a trip being in such a submissive position but holding all the power.

It’s my mouth that can drive a man to the point of orgasm only to back off and make him come when I want him to. Watching that fraying thread of control get thinner and thinner until something snaps is the hottest thing ever in my eyes. I associate the taste of desperation with the salty taste of cum, and knowing I can drive someone to become so desperate, so needy, that they come down my throat, it’s so easy to get too worked up over it. I swear my cock is the most sensitive after I’ve given a blowjob.

Kelley looks like he’s about to snap, and I don’t even have my mouth on him.

“Do it,” I encourage.

He still doesn’t give me the words, but he does release one hand from the shelf and run his fingers through my hair. It’s gentle, but when I lower my head, moving my lips closer to his cock, his grip tightens, and he pulls my hair back.

My scalp stings in the best possible way. I don’t have a pain kink. In fact, I usually hate all other kinds of pain during sex. Not into spanking or paddling. Some guys like the sting during anal, but nope, not me. If I’m not prepped fully, there’s no way a dick is getting in there. But this? A hand wrapped in my hair to control my head while they face fuck me?

I whine and have to press down on my aching cock. Somehow, he’s given all his desperation to me, and now I’m practically begging for it.

My mouth is open, waiting, ready, and he’s taking his sweet-ass time.

Kelley finally surges forward, the swollen head of his cock reaching my lips but Kelley holding me back just enough that I can’t close my mouth over him. He grips the base of his dick and guides the tip over my bottom lip.

Nrgh. I’m supposed to be driving him wild, not the other way around.

As if getting the courage, or perhaps he simply can’t hold out anymore, he pushes inside my mouth, and it’s as if we both lose the tension in our bodies. I melt in relief, even though I’m still so pent up.

Kelley pulls back out to the tip and thrusts forward again, this time deeper. He keeps doing that, sinking further and further each time but not pulling out as far, and then with one last surge, he buries himself to the root, and his tip greets my tonsils with a warm hello.

He stays there, pausing for a second, and I remind myself to breathe through my nose and relax my throat.

His body says it wants to unleash on me and go wild, while his eyes say he doesn’t want to hurt me. Or maybe screw it up somehow. I don’t want to pull off him to tell him to go for it, but I don’t want him drowning in his head either.

So for the first time since getting to my knees, I break eye contact with him, rest my head on his lower abdomen, and reach behind him to grip his ass cheeks through his base layer. My fingers dig into the material and push him forward, forcing him to move inside me. It only takes a few times of me doing that for us to get a rhythm that works and for Kelley to take over.

That’s when it happens. When he lets go of his insecurities and becomes his true self. This unrestrained, confident guy who fucks like a beast and doesn’t hold back.

His thrusts become so fast and shallow that I have to keep grip of his ass in fear of him pushing me over with the force of his cock.

That would be the worst superhero side effect ever. “I’m so strong, every time I get a blowjob, I break their neck with my cock.”

Poor superheroes.

Kelley’s breathing kicks up, and with every thrust, every bump to the roof of my mouth and throat, I’m confident he’s ready to spill over, but he doesn’t. He keeps going, and the longer he holds out, the more desperate I become. I’m tempted to shove my hand in my jeans and jerk off. I’d probably beat Kelley to coming. But I’m too preoccupied with his cock and the way he grunts while he fucks my face with hard, shallow thrusts.

Just when I think I won’t be able to take any more before touching myself to relieve some of the neediness simmering under my skin, he tenses all over and fills my mouth with the heady flavor that turns me on so much.

I drink him down, licking and sucking while he slows down and draws out his orgasm by moving in and out of me slowly with longer strokes. He’s completely clean by the time his cock falls from my mouth.

I look up once again, his warm brown eyes hooded in that way only an orgasm can bring. Like he’s blissed-out and completely relaxed. It’s a good look on him. One he should try to have more often.

I stand and bring my face close to his. I want to kiss him, but not everyone is into that—tasting themselves on someone’s tongue.

“I’ll be able to return the favor in a minute,” he breathes.

“Cute you think I’m even going to last a minute. All I need is right here.” I run my finger under his shirt and up the shape of his cut abs, where the V forms along his hip to his groin.

I undo my jeans, and unlike him, I’m not wearing thermals underneath because I’m a fucking moron.

“You’re going commando? No wonder you’re cold.”

“Dumb move on my part that turns out to be really helpful in this particular situation.”

“Want my hand?”

I press against him, my cock hard against his bare skin in that V, and I roll my hips. “Don’t need it. You have no idea how close I am just from blowing you.”

He pushes his hips forward, creating more friction between our bodies, and I shudder.

“You liked it that much, huh?”

“Loved it.” I move against him fluidly now, my hands on his hips and using them to hold our bodies together. “You’re so hot, and your cock … Fuck, your cock. You have no idea. No idea how amazing you taste.”

“Show me,” he whispers in that unsure tone once again.

“You want me to kiss you?” I thrust against him at a frantic pace.

“Please fucking kiss me,” he says more forcefully. Confidently .

The second our mouths meet, I spill over and cover his abs in my cum. But we don’t stop kissing. Don’t stop holding each other.

Even when my pulsing dick has calmed down and my warm release starts to go cold, he doesn’t stop kissing me.

I didn’t plan for this to happen. Especially not with Kelley fucking Afton. But as our mouths keep exploring long after our bodies have come down from their high, I realize I might actually like Kelley.

A lot.

And it really sucks that in only a few more days, we’ll leave here and never speak of this again. We can’t. Not if I want to keep the job I so desperately need.

As desperate as I am to get Kelley back out into that boat shed or kick Brady out for an hour or two, the chance doesn’t happen again. There was talk of extending our stay, but Kelley has obligations he shouldn’t put off any longer, and I really have to go fix this Wylder issue with my parents.

Kelley’s anxiety has been more settled this last week in the cabin, and he even stopped asking for his phone or trying to sneak mine, so it’s time to go back. Even if I don’t want it to be.

Somehow, Kelley calls shotgun before I can get in the passenger seat to make our way back to the city, so now I’m in the back, dreading every piece of small talk Kelley and Brady share but not wanting to tune them out because then I’ll be left alone with my thoughts. Deciding to have a fresh mindset toward work and clients is a hell of a lot easier than putting it into practice because if I let myself think about where I could be financially had I made it in pro ball, I’d be happy and not forced to hide the bitterness creeping up my spine.

Slowly, I’m understanding Kelley more. He can’t control his irrational thoughts the same way I can’t keep my bitterness off my facial expression. I don’t mean for my face to display inside thoughts for everyone to see, but I can’t help it.

The two weeks spent with Kelley in the middle of nowhere helped me gain perspective, but suddenly having perspective doesn’t mean intrusive thoughts are no longer intrusive. I don’t want to hate everything in the world, but there are moments where I just … do.

Like knowing that once we get closer to Manhattan, I’m going to have to ask for them to drop me at Penn Station so I can go home to Trenton, something I’m not looking forward to.

It’s difficult not to feel like a piece of shit when it’s my fault my family is pushing bankruptcy. Would Wylder have grown up to be this selfish had Mom and Dad not sunk all their money into me and my potential future? Probably not.

And the guilt I have to carry around because of that makes my body heavy.

“You’re quiet back there,” Brady says. “Nothing to add?”

Turns out I tuned them out anyway. “Uh, yeah. Weather. It’s been so unpredictable, right?” At least, I think they were talking about the weather last time I was paying attention.

Brady laughs. “I don’t know how I feel about eating weather for lunch, but if that’s what you want?—”

“Oh, lunch? I have some things to take care of, so if you two wanted to drop me at the nearest train station, I’ll head off and let you two get lunch. Talk business. Whatever.”

Kelley refuses to look at me. He even turns away as I talk.

“What do you have to take care of?” Brady asks.

“Personal shit. Family stuff.” That’s about as detailed as I’m willing to get.

“You’re from Trenton, aren’t you?”

Fucking Brady. Why does he have to have a good memory?

There’s a reason I didn’t bring up where I’m from, and it’s because?—

“You’re from Trenton? I can give you a ride home. My car’s in the city.”

—that .

Trenton is on the way to Philly, and as much as I’d love to have more alone time with Kelley because road head would be super fun, I’m too in my head trying to come up with a money solution. Plus, I don’t trust myself not to blurt everything all over him. This is my problem, not his.

“All good. I really should be getting home as soon as possible.”

Now I feel like a dick because he probably thinks I’m blowing him off. I’m not. But babysitting is over, and we need to go back to our real lives now.

Our real lives where he’s a famous MLB player and I’m an intern on a meagre salary. We might have a lot in common, but there’s a divide when it comes to how we grew up as opposed to how we live now, and it’s something I don’t want to get into with him.

“So, what am I doing?” Brady asks. “Dropping you at the train station and getting lunch or heading for the city?”

Kelley says at the same time I do, “Train station.”

I guess that’s that.

I knew it was coming, and it’s for the best. It just sucks.