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2026-03-10 20:34:46
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The Way He Looked at Me   91
My brain is still floating somewhere above the porch. “Right… about what?” I mumble.He gives me a look so intense it feels like my bones might melt.“You’re a very good kisser.”The noise that escapes me is horrifying. Some unholy mix between a squeak and a choke.I would absolutely die of embarrassmentbut chaos suddenly erupts across the street.“What the…?” Cole turns, squinting toward Luca and Tyler’s house.I follow his gaze.Something’s wrong with the window. There are hands moving around behind the glass arms waving but no faces. No bodies.Just frantic movement.“That’s weird,” I say. “Did something fall? I swear I heard a crash earlier.”Cole studies it for a second. “Pretty sure there used to be blinds on that window.”I blink. “Wait… the blinds are gone?&r
The Way He Looked at Me   90
He’s trying to hide the grin.Which shouldn’t be hot.It really shouldn’t.And yet somehow it’s unbearably hot.By the time I finally figure out how to swallow my coffee, the heat from it travels straight down my throat… down my chest… lower… lower… until it lands somewhere that absolutely does not need extra warmth right now.Fantastic.Perfect timing.I have no idea how long we’ve been sitting here in silence, but I’m pretty sure this exceeds the socially acceptable limit for two humans sharing a porch swing and not speaking.Usually I’d jump in and save us. I’d grab a random topic weather, sports, weird news headline and run with it like a marathon sprinter.Today?Not happening.Because Cole is here.And he hasn’t told me to fill the silence.He’s closer than he normally sits. Not by much. Just enough t
The Way He Looked at Me   89
Absolutely not thinking about that.Definitely not thinking about how I may have just destroyed the best friendship I’ve ever had.By mid-morning I’m sitting at my pottery wheel, hands buried in clay. I’m shaping a small vessel for Nathan something I’ve been planning ever since he proudly announced that one of his teeth was loose.The idea struck me earlier while unpacking the ridiculous box I packed during my six-a.m. meltdown. If I want it finished in time, I need to start now. Clay has to dry. Then it needs firing. No room for procrastination.I’m building the piece by hand, but I’m working on the wheel because sitting here calms me down. Or at least… it usually does.The clay started out cold, slick under my fingers. Now it’s warmed to my touch, softer and easier to shape. Normally this is the moment where my mind quiets. Where everything fades and I sink into that peaceful rhythm of making somet
The Way He Looked at Me   88
Carter Blake POVDawn hasn’t arrived yet. The clock says sometime between three and four in the morning when the full weight of my stupidity finally crashes down on me.I’ve been home for hours, dragged here on the tail end of pure, blinding lust that somehow kept my legs moving long enough to reach my bed. I barely remember getting there. I remember the taste of Cole Williams, though. That memory stuck. It carved itself down the back of my throat, and every time I swallow, I swear I can still feel where he’d been.Even now.Which is ridiculous, because it’s been hours. There’s no way that sensation is real anymore. It has to be in my head some twisted leftover from a night fueled by terrible judgment and questionable mental stability. Honestly, it wouldn’t shock me if I developed a whole medical condition based purely on bad choices and emotional instability.I rode that wave of blowjob euphoria all the way to s
The Way He Looked at Me   87
Normally I’d grin at that. Maybe tease him. Right now I can barely breathe.My teeth drag over my bottom lip before I pull it into my mouth, soaking it slowly before letting it slide free again. Cole’s gaze darkens instantly. Heat flickers there, sharp and approving.“Good boy,” he murmurs.The praise slices straight through me. Something new ignites under my skin stronger than anything I’ve felt before. Hotter. Deeper. Terrifying and sweet all at once.Cole steps closer. His fist guides his cock forward until the heavy tip settles onto my tongue.The second it touches me, a sound rips from my throat. Loud. Shameless.He moves it slowly, brushing the swollen head across my upper lip, tracing the shape of my mouth before nudging the thick tip firmly against my lower lip.A low growl vibrates through the room.It isn’t coming from me.My body shudders as he finally pushes inside. I moan
The Way He Looked at Me   86
I trace his shoulder, fingers pressing into the curve, slipping beneath the visor of his cap to cradle the tension there. âEven if it means kneeling?â I ask, voice low, deliberate.âYes,â he whispers, breath shaky but unwavering. âI want that.âI lift him effortlessly, hands firm but gentle on his arms. He rises, wide-eyed, trembling. I grab a throw pillow and drop it at my feet.âKneel,â I command.He obeys instantly, as though gravity itself has been rewired to serve me. The sight steals my breath. My blood roars. Everything in me tightens, electric, molten. Already, the sound escapes him a soft, restrained whimper that presses against the walls of my skull. Heâs reacting before Iâve even touched him.I move, unthinking, urgency fueling my hands. My belt is free in a slick, desperate motion, leather singing through the loops.Carter swallows hard, eyes blown wide, pupils dark, consuming. Every twitch of him, every shiver under my gaze, ignites a fire I didnât know could burn hotter.
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