by Wyatt King
Okay, it’s been literally impossible, since I’ve had my hand entwined with his the whole time, and since we’ve been stealing little kisses at every red light between my dad’s house and Garrick’s.
And I might have found myself very close to going down on him while we were on the highway.
I did manage to stop myself from doing that, though just barely—and it’s definitely still a possibility the next time we get into the car.
We’re finally pulling into the garage now, though, so my chance to have public and potentially dangerous-while-driving sex has passed.
“It feels like I’m dreaming,” I murmur, thinking of how different this feels from the first time I came here. I was alone and scared then, with nowhere else to go. That day, I had no idea whether or not I was making a mistake. I didn’t even know if Garrick would let me in. I’m so glad I took the chance. “This has been—”
“Amazing,” he says, finishing for me. “You’re amazing, baby.”
We get out of the car and he ushers me inside, planting kisses on the back of my neck every few steps and making it really hard for me to think of anything except being in his arms again.
Naked, preferably.
And I don’t know if he can read my mind or the look in my eyes as he turns me around to face him, but the way he kisses me there in the doorway leaves no doubt in my mind that we’re thinking the same thing.
“These clothes need to come off,” he says, tugging at the hem of my shirt in between kisses. “Now.”
“Yes,” I say, breathless as he helps me out of my shirt and then immediately moves down to the button and zipper on my jeans. “God, yes… I’ve been needing this since…”
“I know, beautiful,” he says, crouching down in front of me and then skimming his hands up my chest, tweaking my nipples and making me temporarily forget how to speak. “I’ve got you. I’m going to take care of you. Starting right now.”
“Yes,” I repeat, because that’s apparently the only word my brain can manage right now. And it’s the only word I want to say to him.
Yes to this.
Yes to whatever he wants.
Yes to everything.
Always.
He shoves my jeans down around my thighs and then palms my aching cock through the thin fabric of my underwear, making me moan as my knees start to give out. For a split-second, I feel like I’m falling—or maybe I’m weightless. It’s hard to tell, with his hands on me and his mouth whispering dirty, needy things.
But he doesn’t let me fall or float away. He really does have me, and I let myself go completely as he stands back up and wraps those strong arms around me again.
“Fuck, you’re so sexy…” I can feel his breath against my neck as he speaks, and it turns me on even more, if that’s possible. “I need to be inside you, baby. But not here…”
I blink, only half aware that he’s saying something about waiting. Waiting?
No.
Nope.
Not gonna happen.
Before I can voice any of my protests, he has slid his hands down to cup my ass and has actually lifted me off my feet, kissing me and carrying me like that at the same time.
Yes. This. Need it. Now.
“I need to be able to look at you,” he says, easing me down onto the bed once we’re finally in his room. “I need to look into those pretty eyes while I bury my cock in that sweet ass.”
I hook my thumbs into the waistband of my underwear and try to get out of them as he’s speaking, but he playfully bats my hands away, eliciting an impatient whimper from me as he shakes his head.
“Have you forgotten already, sexy?” he asks, taking over for me and slowly sliding my briefs down before tossing them aside. “This is my favorite part. You wouldn’t deny me, would you?”
“Never,” I answer, my head falling back and my hips rising up at the same time. “I just want… want…”
“I know what you want,” he finishes for me, wrapping a hand around my throbbing cock and slowly starting to stroke it. “Just like I know what you need.” He swipes his thumb over the head of my cock, teasing me as he uses the pre-cum that’s already pooled there for lube. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I murmur. “Need it… need you…”
“Fuck,” he growls, stroking faster. “So fucking sexy. I don’t know how much longer I can wait to be inside you, beautiful.”
“No, don’t wait. Please don’t wait.”
I don’t even care that I’m begging. He knows how badly I need it. And he knows he’s the only man who can give it to me.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of seeing your sexy body respond to me,” he says, still lazily stroking me. Too slow. Need more. “Patience, my love,” he says, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’m going to give you everything you need.”
Did I say the words out loud?
I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter. I just need him inside me.
Need it so bad.
It takes me a few seconds to realize he’s not on the bed anymore, that he isn’t stroking me anymore. My cock is straining, jutting up into the air like it’s reaching for him. But then he’s back just as quickly, already covering himself with a condom and making it slick with lube.
Yes.
Yes.
“Are you ready, sexy?” he asks.
I’m already arching my back and spreading my legs, trying to give him the best possible angle—or whatever he needs—to get that big cock inside me. I’m shameless, I know, but I can’t stop myself. I’m moaning like a pornstar the second he touches me, just with the head of his cock pressed against my hole.
“Yeah,” he growls, his eyes focused on my entrance as he teases it with his cock and his fingers. “You’re so ready.”
It’s true. I am.
I don’t even try to brace myself for the pain that I know is coming. I want to feel it. I want to feel everything, to savor every second, every tense muscle and every thrust of his hips.
Finally, he presses harder, and I don’t have to wait anymore.
He slides past that tight ring of muscle with one smooth thrust, and it does sting for a moment, but then oh my God it instantly feels better.
Better than better.
It feels amazing.
He’s brushing up against my prostate, sending electric jolts straight through me with every thrust. My body has opened itself to him, and my hands reach for his shoulders, his arms, his chest as he starts to fuck me harder.
Oh God.
Oh God.
This really is exactly what I need. He really is taking care of me.
Yes.
Yes.
“Yes,” I call out, echoing the chants in my head—or maybe it’s all still in my head. I’m not sure anymore. “Please… please… faster…”
“Faster?” he asks. “You like it, baby? You need this cock?”
“Yes,” I whimper. “Need it so bad… need you…”
He does what I ask, giving me what I need with harder, faster thrusts. My whole body is tingling, trembling, like millions of nerve endings have come alive all at once. It’s taking my breath away and making my vision blur.
“Are you ready to come for me, beautiful?” he asks. “Ready to give me what I need?”
“So ready,” I say, breathless as he nails my prostate over and over and over again. “So ready… so close… gonna… gonna come…”
“That’s right, Dusty,” he urges. “Come for me, beautiful. Come for me now. Come for me while I’m coming inside of you.”
My body responds to his words before my brain even has time to process them. I can feel his cock swell, stretching me as my own orgasm starts to rush through my body. He reaches down to cradle my face with one of his big hands, and the look he gives me—so full of heat and love and understanding—is enough all by itself to push me over the edge.
“Fuck,” he cries out, just as the first hot jets erupt onto my stomach. He�
�s still thrusting, but slower now, making me feel like I really might be floating away after all.
My eyes drift closed and then open again.
And nope. I’m not going anywhere. He’s still right here with me, still looking at me like I’m the only thing he can see.
Still everything I want and everything I need.
Always.
Epilogue - Six Months Later
It’s hard to believe that six months have passed since Dusty has come into my life, and even harder to believe how far we’ve come since then. I didn’t have any doubt that we’d make it, of course, but I can very easily remember the look on his father’s face that day we left together—and how I couldn’t help but wonder if that was the last time I’d be seeing one of my oldest friends.
But here we are.
Me.
Dustin.
His dad, Brian.
All three of us, sitting around a table in this crowded restaurant, smiling and laughing, talking and listening… it’s like those difficult days were all just a bad dream instead of our recent shared past.
“I’m really glad you decided to join us tonight, Brian,” I say. As usual, my thoughts are spilling out without a filter. This time, though, I don’t think my thoughts will get me into trouble.
“Of course,” he grins. “Where else would I be? Dinner with the two of you beats the hell out of staying late at the office again.”
“You work too much, Dad,” Dustin says, throwing in a hopeless sigh for good measure. He’s said the same thing to me countless times, but I think he’s come to understand that his father and I are cut from the same cloth. We work. We take care of business. We handle things. It’s just who we are. “But for the record, I’m really glad you came out with us tonight, too. Having you join us is the easiest way to make sure Garrick is on time for dinner.”
We all laugh, but I shake my head. “Hey, now… I’m not late for dinner very often.” I can’t help but laugh again as Dusty and Brian both toss me the same knowing look. “Okay, okay… I’ll do better.”
I take a deep breath. My work habits weren’t supposed to be the focus of this conversation, but that’s okay. I probably needed to hear it. Still, there’s something a lot more important on my mind tonight, something that I need to say… now.
“What are you thinking?” Dusty asks, his brows furrowing as he cocks his head to the side. “You have that look on your face.”
“That look?” I ask, grinning again as he pulls me from my thoughts. Jesus, he knows me too well—but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s one of the many things I love about him. “Okay, fine. I’ll confess. I’m thinking about you.”
Across the table, Brian groans. But he’s still smiling when my eyes dart over to him.
Thank goodness.
It’s going to make what I have to say a lot easier if he’s on board.
Even if he wasn’t, though, I’d be willing to say it anyway.
For Dusty. For us.
“There’s a reason why I wanted the three of us to be together tonight,” I continue, wishing I had planned this moment out a little better in my head. I’ve thought of it countless times—daydreamed and fantasized and wondered over and over again all these months. But I’ve never actually given much though to what I would actually say. So I just look into my beautiful boy’s eyes and speak from my heart. “Dusty, I love you more than anything else in the world. You’re everything to me, and I thank God every minute of every day for bringing us together. I don’t ever want to go through this life without you by my side.”
His eyes start to well up with tears, and I reach out to stroke his cheek with my thumb, catching one just as it spills over.
“Don’t cry, beautiful,” I whisper. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
“You haven’t?” he asks, drawing in a shuddering breath and then smiling. “It gets better?”
“Dustin Matthew Ward,” I say, blinking back the sharp sting of tears as my own eyes start to well up. “You’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been in my life. But the only thing that could possibly be better is if you’ll agree to be my husband, to marry me, to stay with me for the rest of my life.”
“I’ll stay with you for the rest of mine,” he says, tears streaming down his face. “Yes. Yes, Garrick. Nothing would make me happier.”
I don’t know when I stood up, or how he got into my arms, but I’m holding him tightly and I’m not letting go. It takes me a few moments—or maybe it’s been several minutes, I’m not even sure anymore—to remember that we’re in the middle of a restaurant.
It’s only when I start to hear the applause around us and feel Brian’s heavy hand clamp down on my shoulder that reality comes rushing back to me.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Brian says. “But I’m really happy for the two of you. I see how my son looks at you, Garrick.” He turns to Dusty. “And I see the way you look at him, too. It’s love. It’s powerful. And I want to be the first person to say congratulations on your engagement. I really do love you both.”
“And I love you both,” Dusty echoes, pulling his dad in and making it a group hug. “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you, Brian.” I plant a kiss on Dusty’s forehead, then look over at my friend. “The two of you have made this the best day of my life. And I know it’s only going to get better.”
“That’s right,” Brian answers.
“Starting today,” Dusty adds. “Until forever.”
It’s hard to believe that something I shouldn’t have—shouldn’t have even wanted—has turned into this.
Happiness.
Love.
Forever.
But here we are.
And forever sounds good to me.
More from Wyatt King
Thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read Shouldn’t Want Him.
As an indie author, your support means the world to me. I truly would not be able to write these books that I love without you.
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Thank you so much for letting me share my world with you for a couple of hours. I truly appreciate you!
Wyatt
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