Page 7 of Whisper
“Jesus. It’s always the religious ones.”
“Yep. Funny story, out of five siblings, three of us are queer. Dad put my brother in the hospital when he pointed out that it was my parents who kept making gay kids.”
“That’s so fucked up.”
“Yep, but not unique.”
“No, unfortunately.”
“I’ve been on my own for ten years, but I’m making a life for myself.”
“Good for you.”
Whisper pulls into the parking lot of a simple hotel. I’m curious about the gorgeous older man next to me, but I can already tell he’s not going to say much. Maybe that’s why his nickname is Whisper. Unless his parents actually named him that. That would be weird.
“Wait here,” he says. “I’ll get a room.”
“Cool.”
I watch Whisper disappear inside the hotel and pull my phone out of my pocket, checking my text messages. Nothing. That’s usually a good thing, but I’ll check in anyway. I shoot off a text and get a reply back quickly that everything is fine.
I exhale in relief. I can have a few hours of fun before I have to go back to being a responsible adult.
I still can’t believe Whisper said yes. I’ve been relentless in my flirting, determined to break him down, and it finally worked. He’s just so damn gorgeous. Dark hazel eyes, thick, wavy brown hair I want to drag my fingers through, and a sharp jaw line. I even like his nose, strong and prominent on his face.
He walks out, taking long strides toward me. He’s dressed simply in jeans, a black t-shirt, and black boots, tattoos scrolling over his biceps and a stack of bracelets on his left wrist. Yeah, this man is fine.
He opens my door and gestures for me to get out. “Got us a room.”
“Cool. Do they have a heated pool here? Or a hot tub? That could be fun.”
“I don’t do public water.”
I chuckle. “Germs?”
“Not really. I just find it gross to soak in water with strangers.”
“Okay, that’s fair.”
I follow Whisper through the hotel lobby to the elevators. We go up one floor and then walk down the hall to our room. I linger behind him as he unlocks the door and enters.
It’s a super basic room with one king bed, an old dresser with a TV mounted above it, and a single armchair in the corner. It’s cool though, which is good. It’s about to get very hot in here.
Whisper turns to face me, his eyes heating as he takes me in. I launch myself at him, attacking his mouth. He grunts as his hands slip into my hair and we tumble onto the bed.
It’s a blur of shirts and shoes flying while we kiss and rub together. Dammit. I knew he was gonna be a good lay. You can always tell from a kiss. If that’s good, the rest will be. It’s like the salsa at a Mexican restaurant—a sign of what’s to come.
Whisper flips me so I’m on my back on the bed and he’s on top of me. “What are your limits?”
“Don’t have any. You can do whatever you want to me, Whisper.”
He groans softly. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”
“Only in the best way possible.” I reach up and touch the hair above his ear. “I want you to fuck me though. I have everything we need in my bag.”
His brow creases for a second before he nods. “Get it.”
I slide out from beneath him and find my bag, digging through it to get lube and condoms out. I’m sure I look like a slut to him, but whatever. It’s good to be prepared and safety always matters.
