Page 83 of Hurricane Love

Sometimes, when Diego got really into the details of his day, Wylie would zone out and just listen to the cadence of the otherman’s deep, sonorous voice, a kind of quiet lulling sound that soothed his soul. He’d lie there in bed with a silly smile on his face and watch Diego pontificate over Facetime. Occasionally, Diego caught him at it and called him out.

“What did I just say?” Diego asked him during a rather lengthy account of his workout session that day.

“Arms day, big weight, sexy muscles, hubba hubba,” Wylie summarized, and Diego’s resulting laugh told him that he’d passed the test.

“Have you figured out what’s causing that smell yet?” Diego asked regarding the persistent funk that plagued his apartment.

“No, I’ve asked the neighbors about it too, and no one knows,” Wylie said.

“Maybe you should think about living somewhere else next year. There are some nice two-bedrooms off of University Avenue that are less expensive than where you’re at. Fenced-in too, in case you want a dog,” Diego said.

Wylie had mentioned getting a dog exactly once, more as a thought experiment than an actual plan, and he was surprised Diego had remembered it. “Have you been looking at places?” Wylie asked, deliberately deciding not to read into it.

“Yeah. I don’t think that apartment is the right spot for you,” Diego said.

“You’re probably right,” Wylie agreed, thinking it was sweet that Diego was looking out for him. “You hear about that storm?” he asked, referring to the weather system brewing off the coast of Africa.

“Yeah, no name for it yet.”

“They say it might head toward the Gulf.”

“Too early to tell. But I’m keeping an eye on it, so don’t worry. Stay focused on school.”

Hurricane season always brought with it some anxiety, especially with so many of his loved ones living in a trailer park so close to the beach. But just knowing Diego was monitoring thestorm as well made him feel better. “All right. I better let you go to bed. But before I go, can I get proof of that workout?”

Diego grinned, a little bit bashful. “What do you want me to do, take my shirt off?”

“God, yes,” Wylie practically begged, sitting up in bed, suddenly invigorated by the prospect. “I will Venmo you $100 dollars for a full frontal.”

“Save your money,” Diego said and stood up to strip the shirt from his back, revealing his sculpted eight pack and big, juicy pecs, the cum gutters that disappeared into the waistband of his sweats. Diego did a slow turn, showing off his shoulders and that sexy tramp stamp. Damn, the man was mouthwatering, especially with that backwards ball cap and shy grin. Boy next door meets WrestleMania, Wylie was instantly hard. Huge, raging boner. Wylie wanted to ruin the man so badly. He grabbed the t-shirt he’d stolen from when Diego had visited and put it to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“Is that my shirt?” Diego asked with incredulity, leaning toward the camera on his phone to get a better look.

“Yeah,” Wylie said and wrapped the fabric around his neck as his other hand reached for his junk.

“Are you grabbing your dick right now?” Diego asked, practically clutching his pearls.

“Maybe,” Wylie said innocently.

“Let me see it,” Diego said in a low, strained voice. Wylie angled the camera lower so that Diego could get a good look. “Fuuuuck,” he said.

“Miss me?” Wylie asked, squeezing his prick so that a little of the juice dribbled out.

“Yes.” Diego dropped down onto his bed, mouth partway open, staring at Wylie with ravenous eyes.

“Remember the first time you sucked me off?” Wylie reminisced, thinking about how sexy Diego looked down on his knees, loving every second of having a dick lodged deep in his throat. “God, you were so good.”

“It had been awhile,” Diego said.

“Didn’t matter. You’re a natural. Born to bottom, born to give premium head, born to drive me absolutely insane.”

Diego sucked in a sharp breath, and Wylie watched him for another moment, clocking his reaction before deciding to go for it. “Take off the rest of your clothes and get back in bed. But leave the hat on.”

The phone dropped onto the matress and five seconds later, Diego was back in front of him on screen, naked, wearing only his backwards ball cap and sucking on his lower lip in anticipation.

“Let me see yours,” Wylie said and the camera angled down, to where Diego’s sturdy cock stood straight as a flag pole. Diego grabbed onto it but didn’t stroke. “Good boy. You want it dry?”

“Yeah,” Diego said, licking his full lips and staring blankly back at Wylie, already getting into the right headspace for obeying his commands.