My dick pulses again, like a bomb about to go off.
What the hell is wrong with me? It's just a peck. Not even on my lips.
Why am I acting like some weak virgin when I get pussy thrown at me every time I leave my Nashville penthouse?
I don’t like this. I need to take back the reins.
But when I reach for her, she says, “Un-un-uh, you said I could be in control. Keep your promise. Let’s not have a repeat of what happened at the bar, Griff.”
The memory of not being able to stop when her timer went off pulses just like my cock.
“You are driving me crazy, and I wish I never agreed to let you take the wheel,” I growl into her hair. “How’s that for admitting when I’m upset?”
She laughs. “Thanks for letting me know. That gives me all the confidence I need to do this.”
She reaches down and starts unbuckling my jeans.
Yes . . . finally. But I have to hold myself back from taking over the job myself. I don't think I've ever wanted to be inside somebody as bad as I want inside Red, and it feels like she’s moving in slow motion. It takes her way too long to get to the part where she undoes my zipper then pushes my pants and underwear down my hips to free my dick.
But I get to peacock again when her eyes widen at the size of me.
“I guess all that big-dick energy you were throwing off at the bar was the real deal.”
I don’t bother to try to tamp down my cocky grin. But I also tell her the truth. “I've been waiting for this. Since the minute I saw you.”
“Maybe I have too,” she admits with a shy peep up toward me. “Do you have a condom?”
Yes! Game time! I play it way cooler than her, but inside, I’m pumping my fist just like she did earlier.
I purposefully caress her breast on the way to pull a condom out of my inside jacket pocket.
But before I can rip it open, she asks, “Can I do the honors?”
Is she kidding? I would never let some random I picked up at the roadside bar put a condom on me. That’s a one-way ticket to becoming a child support check.
But for some reason . . . some reason I don’t want to think too hard about, I trust her.
I’m barely holding myself back from ending this game and just putting her beneath me. But I hand her the condom package and say, “Go for it.”
Big mistake.
I've never been a patient guy. My low frustration tolerance was the subject of many a lecture before my dad booted me off to military school.
But I find out just how too impatient I am the hard way when she touches me. One stroke of her hand sends an unexpected shudder up my back. And the second brings disaster.
I come.
I come before I’m ready, splashing the both of us with an unexpected jet of semen.
Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! What just happened?
“Shit. I'm sorry.” I don’t know how to explain this. To her or myself.
“It's okay,” she answers quickly. But her eyes are wide with shock, even as she assures me, “It happens.”
“Not to me,” I answer between clenched teeth. “Never to me.”
She wipes away the shock with a reassuring smile. “There’s a first time for everything. Seriously, don’t feel bad.”
She's trying to be sympathetic, but I feel worse than bad. I am fucking dying inside. This is not me. What kind of shitty Twilight Zone episode is happening to me right now?
“Give me a few minutes,” I tell her. “I don't have a long refractory period when I want to go again.”
“That’s really impressive,” she says, but her face is a careful blank. I can't tell if she believes me or if she's just humoring me.
Either way, this shit is fucking humiliating.
“Um, is there a bathroom I can use?” She glances down at the forearm I covered in my way-too-early spunk. “I should clean this up. And um, wash off the condom.”
The condom she didn't even get to take out of its package before I came like some incel nutjob in her hand. Dude, I could not be more embarrassed.
But making her stand there with my jizz growing cold all over her hand and wrist won't make it any better. I point toward the hallway. “First door on the right.”
She rushes into the bathroom and closes the door behind her. Then comes the sound of water running.
Then . . . nothing.
She stays in there for way longer than I’m expecting. But eventually, the toilet flushes, followed by the woosh of more sink water.
Then she comes back into the main room with a sheepish look on her face. “Turns out, we wouldn't have been able to do anything anyway. My Aunt Flo is in town.”