Page 38 of Iron

He looks at my hand on his, not hiding, then up at me.

“Are you good with it?” he asks instead of answering.

“I’ve been not good with things for six long, lonely years.” I squeeze his fingers once. “I am so good with this.”

His face says it all. A bit soft and disbelieving that I’m choosing him out loud, proudly, not running, not hiding.

“Then yeah,” he smiles, that wide smile that I adore. “I’m good.”

I raise our hands to my lips, brush a quick kiss over his knuckles for video guy and go back to eating ribs.

Video guy eventually pockets his phone and goes back to his own dinner. I don’t relax exactly. The news will break, if not by him then by someone soon, but I don't let go of TJ’s hand either, not for the rest of the meal, not until we get back into the rental car.

“So,” TJ says, buckling in, sauce-sticky and grinning, entirely too pleased with himself. “First official coming-out-in-public golf scandal. How do you think the tabloids are gonna spin it?”

“Vance did the first one. It was pretty ugly. But… Veteran robs the cradle. Rookie snags a sugar daddy.” I pull out of the lot, glancing at him sideways. “Take your pick.”

“Ooh, sugar daddy has a nice ring to it.” He smirks, sticky-fingered and delighted with himself. “Caleb’s gonna lose his mind.”

“Caleb’s gonna have a field day regardless.”

“Oh, he already is. He’s had a betting pool going since Denver.” TJ says it so casually I nearly swerve.

“A what?”

“Relax, it’s not a big pool. Mostly just him and my dad.” He grins wider at whatever my face is doing right now. “You’re way behind on the group chat, old man.”

I groan, and he laughs, delighted, and somewhere between the parking lot and the hotel, the tight coil of nerves in my chest finally, fully, lets go.

I stop in the parking lot before we go into the hotel.

“Checking in, baby. How is your head? Anything we need to talk over?” I ask.

“Mmm, so good. It’s like a wall is gone.”

“We’re still going to go slow, baby,” I remind him.

“Thank you, Gavin.”

My phone pings with updates. We ignore it. TJ’s phone rings. We turn them off.

My face is between his thighs, his ass propped on a pillow while he holds his knees, and I’m doing my best to unravel him, tracing my tongue up his taint, sucking on his balls and up over his cock head then back down again, flicking over his hole as I kiss my way up the back of his thighs. His unhinged wails of pleasure are music.

Cupping his ass with my palms, I run my hands up the back of his thighs, pressing him back to raise his hips then latch onto his hole again, sliding my tongue in and fucking him until he is a thrashing mewling mess, throbbing and close to the edge. I pull back and he screams, “Oh fuck, oh please, don’t stop, please Gavin.”

“Not stopping, baby.” I lean in and press my chin hard on his taint, and he jumps.

“Oh, fuck, what…”

“Mmmm,” I hum against him. “Pushing your buttons from the outside.”

“God, so good,” he groans as I press and move my chin up and down as I wrap a hand around his cock and stroke. He whines and presses against me. “Fuck, Gavin, more, please more.”

“Have to go inside for more, babe,” I grin, knowing he’s going to ask me for it. I tongue his hole again, thrusting softly, and he pumps against me.

“Oh, fuck, please more, Gavin, please,” he begs. “I know you won’t hurt me, please, please.”

“Words, baby, tell me what you want,” I say, sucking a ball into my mouth.