I just open my mouth and stare. “You reached on down and grabbed it, Eli. Admit it.”
“Like I said, it was an accident, Luke.”
“Nah, you did that on purpose. So, you could win. You sneaky fucker.”
Now I’m sort of proud and pissed. And embarrassed. I hate being embarrassed. Rarely happens to me, but when it does, it throws me off-kilter.
“Just so you know, I enjoyed that about as much as receiving an enema. So no, it was not on purpose. You shifted, and my hand slipped.”
Damn, that hurts a little, even though it’s obvious to me he’s lying. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. I glance down at my crotch and sigh. It’s growing wet. My come is seeping through my jeans.
“You have got to be kidding me? I barely touched you,” Elliot grumbles and then snaps, “Luke van Beek, go clean yourself up. Now.”
My eyes shoot up to meet Elliot’s.
“You ordering me, Eli?”
“I am. Go.”
Fuck. Part of me wants to rebel, but I can’t make myself do it. He has some strange pull over me that I can’t explain, and it turns me on. I stomp off toward the bathrooms, rubbing the back of my neck as I replay what just happened. As I relive it, I’m confused, irritated, and horny all over again.
Inside the bathroom, I do my best to clean myself up but just end up stuffing my boxers in the trashcan. I don’t need them anyway. I have a six-pack of new ones waiting for me in my truck because I’m a horny fucker who can’t stop coming in my pants.
Elliot is waiting for me outside the bathrooms, his legs crossed at the ankles as he leans against the building casually tapping on his phone. I stare at him, but he won’t look at me.
Well, fuck him too. I have nothing to say to this duplicitous ass. Using my dick against me to win. Even I’m not that shady.
So, in protest, I glue my mouth shut the entire way home, and Elliot is equally as quiet.
When we arrive back at his place, I stomp my way inside the house and just stand in the kitchen, unsure of where to go from here. Should I leave? Stay? Say something? Not say anything at all?
I fidget anxiously as Elliot locks the front door, and then he leans against it. Our eyes meet across the space. Something electric snaps in the air around us, and I swallow roughly.
Fuck.
Suddenly, he’s pushing off the door and stalking toward me, and I step back until I hit the wall with a thump.
When he’s directly in front of me, he narrows his eyes slightly.
“I think we had a misunderstanding,” he says, and I gulp.
“What about, Doc?”
“The definition of a hand job.”
“Nah,” I choke out. “I know what that shit is. Do it all the time. I’m a gold medalist.”
He glances at my crotch, then reaches out and grabs onto my neck, squeezing it tightly.
“Would you like me to show you what me jacking you off looks like?” he asks.
Oh shit, my dick is hardening so quickly I’m lightheaded. All my blood flows south in record time.
I swallow roughly and try to breathe.
“Because what happened earlier wasnotme jacking you off. That was me playing with you.”
He reaches down, roughly grabs onto my hardened dick, and pushes his palm against it.