“Why?” Luke asks, seeming genuinely confused.
“Because.”
“Not a good reason,” Sem says, and Caleb flips him off.
Aunt Del is just grinning once more as Caleb shifts on top of me.
Then she turns toward Luke. “I want you to find someone like Whit.”
“I’m not gay, Ma.”
“I know that, but I think you should find someone classy like him.”
“I’m classy,” Caleb says, and my traitorous, anxious fingers slide down slightly and are resting right against his happy trail.
And I may even let myself indulge.
I feel him shiver, and my free hand threads unwillingly into his hair. I’ve lost control of my body.
“You cold?” I ask, needing an excuse to be touching him like this. Maybe he’s coming down with something, and he’ll wrap himself around me and not move for three days.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Oh yes, it does get chilly in here,” Aunt Del says, having heard my question. She hands us a blanket, and I spread it over us. Caleb pulls it up to his chin and snuggles in a little further.
My fingers curl into my palm, trying to stop what they’re longing to do. But when they unfurl, they play with the string of his sweatpants and even slide across the waistband of those slutty pants. They may even dip down a little, beneath it entirely.
I can feel the flutter of his stomach against my fingertip.
Fuck.
“I hope you’ll come back and stay with us for Thanksgiving,” Aunt Del tells me, and my fingers are still for a moment, my mind snapping back to reality.
I’m doing all of this with his familyright there.What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve lost control of my senses, too, it seems.
“What makes you think we’ll still be together then?” Caleb asks, sounding slightly bothered by this.
“Oh, shut up, you,” his aunt tells him, and then says to me, “You’re welcome to come.”
“That sounds very nice, Mrs. van Beek,” I manage to say.
She blushes. “Call me Del, please.”
Caleb huffs and wiggles on top of me once more.
“How can you stand him on top of you all the time?” Sem asks me, his long, thick legs sprawled out in front of him, picking at the label of his beer.
I shrug, letting my fingers drag through his happy trail. Maybe I’m just a sadist, touching what I can’t have. “I guess I enjoy it.”
“Yeah. He enjoys it,” Caleb says and places his head on my shoulder, forcing my fingers to slide up his chest.
Right to his nipple ring.
I can’t help but touch it, tug at it.
I’m so fucking hard for this.
He sits there, curled up against me for a few long minutes, not stilling my hand, but letting me explore, when suddenly he sits up and blurts.