My pulse thrums in my ears as I inch as close as I can without sitting on his lap. I want to kiss him, but the last time that happened he freaked out, so maybe it’s best we avoid doing that again.
I pluck his shirt. “Take this off.” When he raises a brow in question, I deliver the very same words he said when he wanted me to sing my song for him. “I want the full experience.”
Reaching behind him, he grabs hold of his shirt and tugs it over his head in one swift motion.
My eyes immediately go to the large black music clef directly over his heart. A set of five horizontal lines—otherwise known as the staff—are next to it. However, there are no notes. It’s completely blank.
“Why don’t you have any notes?”
“I’m waiting until I write the song that will change my life.”
That’s a good reason.
I feel his heart rate pick up as I gently trace the tattoo with my finger. “How long have you had this?”
“Two years.”
“It’s beautiful.” My eyes drop down, taking in his lean, toned stomach. He’s beautiful. “Do you have any others?”
“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
Guess that’s my cue.
Another wave of nervousness comes over me as my fingers find the button on his jeans. The denim is stretched tight over his prominent erection, and the sound of me forcing his zipper down is so loud it’s almost deafening.
Whatever apprehension I had disappears as I come to the stark realization that Phoenix Walker is hard…
For me.
Lifting his hips, he tugs down his jeans a little, causing his cock to spring out.
That…can’t be real.
I mean, obviously it is, but…holy hell. It’s huge.
And I don’t mean huge in a porn-star dick kind of way. I mean huge in a it’s legitimately alarming and science should probably study him kind of way.
“Jesus.” Swear it grows bigger the longer I stare at it. “What the fuck do you feed that thing?”
A choked laugh escapes him before his expression evens out and he presses his thumb to my bottom lip. “Your mouth in a minute.”
Right.
I wrap my hand around his thick girth. Despite being hard as a rock, he feels like heated satin as I slowly stroke him from root to tip.
Phoenix sucks in a sharp breath when I repeat the movement and I can’t help but glance up. His lips are parted, and his eyes are hooded as his chest rises and falls with ragged inhales. Ribbons of heat unfurl low in my belly as I circle the pad of my thumb over his wide, shiny head, spreading the pearlescent drop of liquid around it.
His throat flexes on a hard swallow. “Lennon.”
There’s a hint of desperation in his tone and that only spurs me on as I begin jerking him.
Shifting, I lower myself until my head hovers above his lap. “There’s no way I can deep throat you.”
Figure we might as well get that out of the way now. And if by some crazy chance there is a woman out there capable of sucking this thing down to the hilt? Science should probably study her too because she must be part snake in order to unhinge her jaw.
His voice is a deep rumble. “I don’t care, just put your mouth on it.”
Brushing my lips against his tip, I give it a little kiss, tasting the salty liquid before pulling back. “You need to show me exactly what you like so I can keep doing it.”
Because I want to make this good for him.
Wrapping my hair around one hand and fisting his dick with the other, he guides me back to his cock. “Open.”
When I do, he pushes his swollen head into my mouth. “Lick.”
I flick my tongue against the small slit and he groans. “More.”
Running the flat of my tongue all over his crown, I lick him like he’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted and I don’t want to waste a single drop.
“Fuck.” His grip on my hair tightens. “Now, suck it.”
His dirty commands drive me crazy and I take him deeper, eliciting another groan from him.
Replacing his hand with mine, I eagerly pump and suck him in tandem, paying special attention to the noises he makes.
When I find a rhythm he particularly likes, he grunts and bucks his hips into my face. “Fuck yeah. Suck me just like that.”
Knowing he’s losing control because I’m bringing him pleasure is almost enough to make me orgasm.
My jaw aches as I continue sucking him with quick, deep pulls, but I power through, wanting to bring him to the finish line.
His whole body shudders. “Fuck. I’m gonna—” He pushes down on my head so hard I gag. “Don’t move.”
The tone of his voice is downright lethal.
I’m bracing myself to swallow his cum…but that doesn’t happen.
Instead, he goes still.
I’m about to ask if I’m doing something wrong, but then I hear it.
Some guy is shouting—or rather slurring—things at Phoenix.
“Get back in here, you piece of shit. I’m gonna kick your ass again.”
What the hell?
Feeling helpless, I swivel my gaze around, but a deep dark bruise spanning across the sharp V-cut of his lower abdomen catches my attention.
As far as I know, Phoenix doesn’t play any sports, so I wonder where that came from. God knows it has to hurt.
The slurring gets closer, along with the sounds of unsteady footsteps.
“You stupid shit stain,” the man yells. “Your whore mother should have done the world a favor and aborted you. You’re not my son, you’re a good-for-nothing leech and one day I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
Holy crap. Anger races through my veins as I release him from my mouth. The awful things that crazy man is yelling are positively vile.
You’re not my son. Disgust rolls through me as I realize the belligerent asshole is most likely Phoenix’s dad.
I’m about to give the bastard a piece of my mind, but Phoenix reverses, peeling out of the trailer park so fast I get whiplash.
I sit up in the passenger seat. “Was that your father?”
Jaw clenching, he tugs his pants up, but otherwise remains silent.
It’s enough confirmation for me.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he speeds past Storm’s house.
Only then does he speak. “I’m taking you home.”
I don’t want to go home, but what happened has obviously put a damper on what was turning out to be the best night of my life.
But way more important than that, I don’t want him going back to that trailer. Ever.
His piece of shit father threatened to kill him. That’s not only scary…it’s straight-up abuse.
While my dad won’t like the thought of a guy crashing on our couch, I know once I explain what happened, he’ll give in and let him stay for however long he needs.
Instead of pulling up my driveway, Phoenix parks under the large oak tree a few feet down the street.
“I’m gonna ask my dad if you can stay. He won’t like it, but—”
“I’m not staying at your house,” he interjects. “Storm lets me crash at his whenever I want.”
I was already eternally grateful to Storm for breaking through the pig-slop crowd and ushering me out of the party, but now I have another reason because he gives Phoenix a safe haven.