Ex-Daredevil by Zoe Lee

Chapter 3

Eliott

“Jesus,” I muttered, totally unused to such obviousness outside of clubs or hookup apps, not that I had availed myself of either thing very often at all. I didn’t mind forward or aggressive men, in theory. But I did have an issue with a meaningless fuck—which this would be, if I answered his look with an action of my own. “I don’t like this idea.”

“No?” he asked, his smirk twisting into a knowing thing.

My thoughts, which were usually disciplined and singular, split into several avenues of conflicting impulses. An animalistic avenue pointed out that flaming hot men never just wanted to fuck me and I deserved some fun. A judgmental avenue pointed out that smart men shouldn’t try to think so hard when their cocks were diverting their brain’s blood supply. A sly, self-serving avenue suggested that while a random fuck didn’t seem romantic, it could be a step closer to someone; I had to get out there if I wanted to find someone.

I clenched my jaw and revised judiciously, “It’s a great idea, but I don’t just… screw.”

He looked shocked by this, incredulous at the very least, and pursed his lips. He wasn’t quite insulted, I evaluated carefully, but he was probably feeling something in the vicinity, and no matter how crass he might be, I didn’t like offending people. “But I—”

“Do not finish that, or I’ll have to kick you in the balls,” Gavin threatened.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” I replied, straightening up. “But I’m still going to explain.”

He raised his shapely eyebrows and mimicked my pose.

I tried to keep my head, but it was impossible once he licked his lips provocatively. Uncomfortably barbaric thoughts filled my head at the movement, and I was aware of my failing willpower. Watching his breath quicken, I couldn’t think of a damn thing to say.

The heat exploded and I rushed to my feet, murmuring darkly, “Damn it to hell.”

In a flash, he was out of the booth with barely a glance around to be sure no one noticed and started towards the short hallway that led to the restrooms. A second later, he caught my wrist to pull me along, as if he knew he’d leave me too far behind if he didn’t.

As soon as we were in the men’s room, I backed against the door to close it, reaching behind myself to engage the lock. Gavin pressed his body against mine and our hands landed on each other’s hips as we stared until he dove in and kissed me. It wasn’t aggressive, as if he were staking a claim or proving a point, but it was confident.

I twisted to put him against the door, pinning our hips together, and wedged my hands under the soft cotton of his tight tee shirt. He moaned with startling softness into my mouth as our tongues stroked, grasping my shoulders, and I scraped my thumbnails over those tight, tiny nipples. In reaction, his teeth scraped down my neck and muffled purrs in my throat as my thumbs stroked where his ribs blended into his abs.

With a groan, his hands scrambled to push his loose, worn jeans down without needing to undo them, revealing an unexpected dark blue thong barely containing his cock.

Whatever shred of civility was left in me flew away at the sight of it.

I went to my knees and opened my mouth over the thong, finding it messily sticky with his precome already. Dimly I heard his nails scratch the door in reaction when I sucked at the fabric and his cockhead straining beneath it. The taste was very bitter, which seemed fitting. I pulled off only far enough to peel the thong down to under his shaved balls, then snaked my tongue all over him, from the root of his cock to his slit to his balls.

I switched to swallowing him down fast and urgent as I undid my pants, my hindbrain screaming at me to get inside of him, even though it was impossible without any supplies.

A succession of violent shudders moved through him, contained enough that the door didn’t rattle rhythmically in its frame. I was disappointed when he didn’t simultaneously shoot in my mouth because I needed to taste him so badly. I surged to my feet and kissed him hard and deep, then carried him to the sink, where there was just enough counter space for him, his face red and eyes hazy as they burned a path over me.

He opened his thighs, his jeans hanging off one foot, and wet his lips with his tongue again. I had to move in, my hips cradled by his thighs, and kissed him. He echoed my kiss like he was feasting on me, making little greedy noises.

Without any of my usual slow methodicalness, I pumped his cock. Once his copious precome covered my palm, I made a slick vise around both of our cocks and our bodies worked us together with wild, hard thrusts.

In what felt like no time at all, Gavin dug his hands into my upper back and shook as he came fiercely, his sneakers digging into the backs of my thighs. When he went limp, burying his sweaty face in my neck and licking it sloppily, a volcanic orgasm coalesced in my balls. I erupted over my own hand, growling out my completion.

A second later, my mind cleared and I was looking down at myself, barely naked, my cock still dark pink and hard, my hand covered in our combined, melting sperm.

Horrified, I couldn’t move, and definitely couldn’t look at him. I wanted to say something, like maybe apologize, I thought dimly, a dull roaring in my head.

But he slid off the sink, his knee scraping the outside of my thigh. He edged around me to jiggle his thong into place and tug his jeans back on over his shoes.

Shattering the silence, my phone rang.

But my hand was still covered in sperm and I said elegantly, “Uhh.”

His fingers were trembling as he sent them into my pants pocket and took out the phone, an unknown number flashing. He swiped right and said, “Hey, cuz, what’s up?”

That spurred me into action, using my wrist to lift the sink lever up to turn it on.

“I’m just about to settle up,” he replied to his cousin, his voice a little winded but probably not too obvious over the area’s weak cell reception. He angled in front of the mirror, smoothing out a bump in his braid, while I tried to fix myself up. “Hang tight for a minute and I’ll be right out… No, they don’t have milkshakes to go.”

He ended the call and looked at me.

I cleared my throat and smoothed my hands down the front of my slightly rumpled tee shirt, feeling like some sort of lunatic. I unlocked the door and opened it a crack to make sure that there wasn’t a line of men waiting impatiently or something. But it was clear, so I gestured to Gavin to go first. He sauntered off, looking for all the world like nothing had happened, his hips moving side to side with more of a bounce than a sway.

I took thirty seconds to avoid suspicion and dwell over what had just happened. I imagined how great he must smell, the faint, earthy sweat from the skydiving enhanced from our exertion. Then I shoved distance between my consciousness and the new memory, strolling smoothly back to the booth, where he had our bill in hand and boxes for the food.

We went up to the cash register and I handed her my card without comment.

“Do you want any dessert for the road?” she asked. “It’s after two, so they’re half off.”

My face went hot while he snickered and answered, “Sorry, I already had dessert.”

Then he flung open the door and sauntered outside casually, without checking if I was ready to go. Outrage flooded me and my jaw clenched so that I wouldn’t curse him out where everyone in the diner would be able to hear.

Once I was outside too, I hissed discourteously, “Are you going to just go without saying thanks for the help or the lunch? That’s how you operate?”

He stepped off the curb, swung around on one sneaker, and moonwalked across the empty handicapped parking space, laughing at me to my face as he went. “I thought you didn’t want to want to, but we were on the same page,” he shot back pretty mockingly, deliberately taunting me, careless of who I was or how I felt.

It infuriated me even as the sheer irreverence turned me on all over again.

In completely new territory, I fell back on my work skills and gave him the cocky, broad grin I’d only used during contract negotiations before.

“Well then,” I remarked, “all I have to say is, You’re welcome.”

There was no gasp of outrage, no slap aimed hard at my face; Gavin just saluted me, swung around again, and headed towards a hulking, screaming red muscle car.

I better get tested, was all I could think, like an ass, as he slid across the hood like a stuntman and climbed into the car through the open window of the suicide door.