My lipstwitch as I see him rolling his neck and shoulders as though trying to pump himself up.
“Do you need me to play a motivational theme song?” I ask dryly. ““Eye of the Tiger,” maybe? Or “Y’all Ready For This?””
“I’m good, thanks,” Damon says with an eye roll.
He makes himself comfortable again and returns the belt to his mouth. This time I decide to lay off on the commentary for a bit and let him get into it. I’m curious to see how easily he’s able to restrain himself when I’m not involved.
It’s fucking fascinating. I can tell by the flush in his cheeks and the desirous gleam in his eyes that hewantsto vocalize but he doesn’t seem to be having too much trouble restraining himself. It’s not the desperate compulsion he seemed to be experiencing earlier…
A slowgrin spreads across my face. “I know you want to. You want to put on a show for me. It’s not the same without a soundtrack, is it?” I let out a soft breath of laughter as his cheeks flush darker. “Don’t worry, I’m finding this incredibly entertaining. And I could listen to you panting like a bitch in heat for hours…”
“Fuck,”he gasps out.
“You’re almost there, aren’t you?” I suggest, observing his ragged breathing, soft curses, and the way his hand is moving with more insistence. “Another minute and you’ll have a big, sloppy mess in your jeans. And thebest part, of course—you get to go back to your friends and spend the rest of the night sittingaround in your gross, cummy jeans with none of them any the wiser about what a creep you are.”
Damon lets out a soft moan, prompting a surge of immense satisfaction to rush through me. “Stop.”
“No, no,”Damon whines, his frustration and desperation obvious.
Noticing the way his hand is still moving, I arrange my features into a hard expression. “Dirty boy, move your hand away from your dicknow—or there will be consequences.”
He drops his hand, letting his head fall back against the wall with an expression of pure agony. “Fuck…no.”
“Dude, are you okay?” I hear someone ask from what must be the main area of the bathroom.
Damon winces, his face flushing bright red. “Yeah, all good. Nothing to worry about.”
The guy must have been asking out of courtesy rather than actual concern because he doesn’t press any further. The interruption has obviously served to remind Damon that he’s in a public bathroom, however, because he opts to communicate via text even though the call is still connected.
Damon Forrester
I hate you so much right now, you sadistic bastard
I let out a soft laugh. “You knew the rules. It’s hardly my fault you have no control over your whorish tendencies. I really thought a public bathroom would be a pretty good incentive to rein it in but evidently not.” I offer a wry smirk. “I mean,it’s almost like you wanted everyone out there to know what a filthy whore you are.”
Damon curses under his breath and brings up a hand to run over his face.
Damon Forrester
I need to come
“Sorry, dirty boy, that ship’s sailed,” I say with a shrug.
The mix of horror and desperation in his expression is almost comical.
Damon Forrester
No! Please you can’t leave me like this! I’m going to die!
I roll my eyes. “You’re not going to die.” And I have no intention of leaving him in this state, even if orgasm isn’t an option. I take a moment to think before deciding on a distraction that I hope will work the way I want it to. “You’re a fitness guy, right? Have you ever done a marathon?”
Damon eyes me with obvious puzzlement before nodding.
“Cool. Tell me about it. I want to know everything.”
Damon Forrester
Which one? I’ve done about ten. And a few triathlons. And an Iron Man