✔️The Greaser and the Skirtchaser [18+]

11. That Time Vance Was a Tease (M)

Even though Vance had agreed to it, knew what this was gonna entail, he still wasn't prepared for the way Blake raked his eyes up and down Vance's body before meeting his eyes again. They dropped down to Vance's neck. "Show me."

"Show you what?" Vance knew exactly what, but he didn't want to do it right away—like he were eager for it.

"Show me what you let me do to your neck. I put it where no one but you and I could see it, remember?" When Vance hesitated, Blake cocked his head. "Or do you want me to pull your clothes aside?"

Vance huffed and tugged his white tee down to show Blake the dark but fading bruise. Blake's stare was caressing over him, making his skin hot and tingly wherever he was looking. "Happy?"

Blake didn't say anything at first and just looked back up at Vance. They had half an hour, but Blake hadn't even touched Vance yet. "Is anyone home?"

Vance didn't wanna answer since the question was so suggestive. It was like Vance was giving him permission... which he was, technically.

"Is anyone home, Vance? I gotta know since you're gonna get pretty loud."

He blushed. "No. No one's home."

A small smile grew on Blake's mouth because of that. It didn't take the edge off of Vance's unease but rather the opposite. He took his goddamn time walking up to Vance, and when he stopped, the tips of their shoes were almost touching. Vance could see the eyelashes framing those dark eyes.

Blake only looked at him like that for a minute before he reached up and touched Vance's hickey, stroking it idly with his warm fingers. Vance tried not to, but he shivered, and Blake definitely felt it. "I'm just touching your neck. You're really too sensitive, aren't you? You're already turned on."

"I'm—not." Vance inhaled when Blake's fingers pressed harder. Vance gripped the dresser behind him.

"You're such a tease, you know that?" His voice was soft as he looked at Vance like he knew exactly what was going on beneath the surface. Maybe he did because there was a hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth. "You're not remembering how I sucked a kiss mark onto your neck? You're not remembering how hard you were the whole time I was biting and sucking you?" He snuck a hand onto his side where he was holding him on Saturday night. Before Blake even did anything, butterflies spawned at the memory of little circles rubbed into his hip. "Not even how you'd moan when I called you baby?"

"I didn't," Vance insisted weakly. The suspense was almost unbearable. "How much time are you gonna waste?"

"What, getting impatient already? I just got here, baby." He stepped back, but Vance still didn't feel like he could relax. Blake shrugged off his bomber jacket. "Sit on the bed."

"The... bed?" Vance's eyes lingered on Blake's bare arms. He had the muscle to easily scale the olive tree out front.

"Do you want it against your dresser? It might bang against the wall."

Biting back some choice words, Vance begrudgingly sat on the bed, and Blake came close enough to put one leg between his. Blake's knee braced on the bed right next to Vance's thigh then Blake leaned down.

Suddenly very aware of what might happen on his own bed, Vance couldn't help leaning away until his elbows hit the bed, but Blake followed him down, bracing his hands on either side of him. "What are you running away for? Afraid I might bite? But you really liked that."

"Just—do it already." He meant for it to come out annoyed, but it came out desperate as Vance looked at Blake's mouth.

"You keep saying you want nothing to do with it, but here you are begging to do it once I'm dangling the carrot a little." He grabbed Vance's jaw and leaned in close enough for Vance to get another whiff of that musky cologne. Blake grinned and stroked Vance's bottom lip with his thumb.