l me.
“I’m going to do so many, many things to you tonight,” he whispered harshly in my ear. “You’re not going to be able to walk right for a fucking week, you get me? You don’t get to say no. Not now. Not ever again.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered as I realized I was all but humping his leg like a dog in heat. “We gotta stop. We gotta—Oh balls,” I said as I found that ass, that perfectly perfect glorious ass. I grabbed as much of it as I could. His breath was getting more ragged in my ear, a little whine escaping from his throat as he continued assaulting my neck. “Vince. Vince! We gotta stop.” I squeezed once more before dropping my hands.
“Why?” he moaned, causing me to very seriously consider coming right then and there.
“Because we still have to have dinner with my fucking parents. I don’t want to do that sitting in my own spunk. And besides, having sex at my grandma’s house is not one of the things I wanted to do before I die.”
He pressed his knee to my dick again, that cruel, vicious bastard. “Not even if it’s with me?” he whispered, causing goose bumps to break out on my neck.
“Not even,” I managed to say, even if it was a total and complete fucking lie. I gathered up all my resolve and pushed him off, leaning against the wall to catch my breath. He eyed me like I was some kind of prey as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. I tried to keep my eyes at an appropriate level, but I figured since I was pretty much damned already, it couldn’t hurt, so I glanced down at his dick and saw the very clear outline through his pants. I swallowed thickly, trying to keep from looking like I was drooling.
“You keep looking at me like that,” he said hoarsely, “and I’m not going to give a fuck where we’re at. I’ll do you right here.”
I couldn’t help it. I grinned at him. “That doesn’t sound like much of a threat.”
His eyes searched mine. “You didn’t have to do that, Paul,” he said finally. His voice was soft. “It means so much to me, and thank you, but you didn’t have to do it.”
I knew he was talking about the bike. I shrugged. “Even if I didn’t have to, I wanted to. Okay? You’re… you….” I shook my head and looked down at my feet.
“Paul,” he said sharply. “Look at me.” He didn’t move. He didn’t force me with his hands to do so.
I took a deep breath. And looked up at him.
“What were you going to say?”
Fuck. “You… you mean a lot to me, okay? I don’t know when that happened or why or how or what the fuck I’m doing, but I just want to make you happy. All the time, I want you happy. That’s all I want. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but I don’t want it to stop and I just want… fuck. I just want you, okay?”
The smile he gave me was beautiful. He moved forward, and while the kiss he gave me then wasn’t as ferocious as the ones before, I felt it all the more because of the sweetness it held.
“This doesn’t mean I’m going on bike rides with you,” I warned him when he pulled away.
Vince just laughed.
THE rest of dinner went okay. Nana smirked at the two of us when we went back inside, asking me with a sparkle in her eye what had happened to my lips? I told her that I couldn’t possibly know what she was talking about, that Vince had just needed to show me the tread on his tires to see if I thought he needed to get new ones so he wouldn’t pop a tire on the freeway, flip his car, and die in a fiery explosion. My grandmother assured me she didn’t understand the euphemisms of today’s youth, but if I was going to be treading tires, I’d better make sure I was careful and wrapped up my tire gauge. We both gaped at her as she cackled.
The thing that stood out the most was how comfortable the rest of dinner went, aside from Johnny Depp screeching, “Pretty, pretty,” from the living room, trying to call Vince back in so that he could show off his plumage. I told Vince this, and he said that I did the same thing to him. I scowled at him as my parents laughed at me.
But… the weirdness never came. The nervousness that I’d felt previously didn’t return. My family was attempting to be on their best behavior, though a few things slipped through that I would have rather Vince never learned about me for as long as we lived (“When he was six, he told us he wanted to grow up to be a Charlie’s Angel” and “Larry, tell Vince about the time you caught Paul practicing kissing with his stuffed bear. You’ll like this, Vince. Paul was seventeen at the time….”). But aside from those few excruciating moments, the thing that stuck out the most was the bright-eyed look on his face when my parents asked him questions, when they included him in on conversations that were about our family. I was dreading the moment when any of them would bring up his family, but for some reason, it didn’t happen, which confused the fuck out of me. Normally, Mom, Dad, and Nana are so fucking nosy that it was awkward, but none of them took the obvious ins I would have expected.
Toward the end is when it sort of went downhill.
“So how did you two meet?” Vince asked my mom and dad.
Of course, I was sipping a glass of wine right at that moment and proceeded to choke on that and my tongue. Mom and Dad smiled fondly at each other while I did a great imitation of someone dying from lack of oxygen. Vince, however, knew of my propensity to choke in his general vicinity and got up immediately to try and put me in another Heimlich maneuver. I shook my head at him as I gasped in air, hoping my face wasn’t as purple as I expected it was.
“You okay?” he asked me worriedly.
I nodded. “Just fine.”
“I saved Paul’s life the other day,” he told my family, and I almost started choking again. “It gets me a bit worried when he starts hacking like that.”
Six eyebrows went up. “You did what?” my mother asked.
“He was choking to death in a restaurant,” Vince explained.
“I was not!” I said.