Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(115)

Ollie: Ew, don’t use the term fellatio. God, Grandpa.

Silas: I’m surprised you even knew what that was. Fine, no sucking my cock.

Ollie: That’s fine. I can handle that.

Silas: Liar. You’re itching to blow me right now.

Ollie: You’re vulgar.

Silas: LOL. Says the girl who tells me to fill her with my cum every goddamn time we’re together.

Ollie: That’s not vulgar. That’s just an honest request.

Silas: I love how you’re able to run circles around the truth. Truly inspiring.

Ollie: I’m studying to be a journalist after all. We have to run around the truth a bit.

Silas: Studying to be a journalist? Seems more like you’re occupied with texting your extremely hot boyfriend.

Ollie: Yes, my extremely hot boyfriend who is thirty-one and sitting in a college class because he’s so attached to me that he can’t spare a moment without smelling my pheromones.

Silas: Is that what the oniony smell is?

I gasp and poke him in the side, causing him to laugh, drawing some attention from the students around us. Silas adjusts his glasses and sinks lower into his chair.

I see him type away on his phone, and I try to pay attention to what the professor is saying, but it’s no use as another text from him pops up.

Silas: You’re going to get yourself thrown out of class. Is that the goal?

Ollie: The goal is to pay attention, but you’re distracting me.

Silas: It’s because I like you, and I think you’re cute.

Ollie: We would never have been able to be in class together if we were the same age.

Silas: We wouldn’t even be talking to each other if we were the same age.

Ollie: Why do you say that?

Silas: I was a dweeb in college. Didn’t have dick piercings, which I know is a huge plus for you. Barely had any tattoos, and my head was shaved.

Ollie: Oh my God, I need to see pictures.

Silas: Maybe one day if you’re lucky. But you must earn the opportunity.

Ollie: Sucking your dick every night hasn’t earned me that opportunity?

Silas: It’s brought you closer. These are sacred pictures. But back to us knowing each other in college. I would never have gone for it because I was with Sarah. I never would have even talked to you.

Ollie: What if you came to college single? Then what? Would you have talked to me?

Silas: Still no. You would have been placed in the too pretty catalog.

Ollie: Now you’re just being ridiculous.

Silas: I’m not. It’s the truth. You’re gorgeous, Ollie. I would have been intimidated.

Ollie: Nope, not falling for it. I’m not reaching over and holding your hand because you’re being all cute and telling the truth. Nice try, fella.

Silas: Wasn’t looking for a handhold . . . but it would have been nice. I like holding your hand, makes me feel at home.

“Oh my God,” I mutter right before I rest my hand on his thigh. From the corner of my eye, I see his grin stretch from ear to ear. His hand encapsulates mine, and he gives it a good squeeze.

For the rest of class, he sits there, holding my hand while I take one-handed notes on my computer.

And honestly, I’m not even mad about it.





“Did you search this place out?” I ask Silas as we sit at a small, hole-in-the-wall deli where we ordered pastrami sandwiches.

“I might have looked up delis near your campus. Being the sandwich lover you are, I assumed you already knew about this place.”

“I don’t, and I feel embarrassed about it.”

“You should,” he says as he unfolds his sandwich. It smells amazing.

I lift the pickle that comes with the sandwich and take a bite. As I chew, I lightly moan. “Oh my God, so good.” Silas stares at me, a pinch in his brow. “What?” I ask him.

“Can you please not moan? I don’t want to have a boner while eating a pastrami sandwich.”

I chuckle. “You need to control yourself.”

“Won’t happen when you’re around. Sorry. Control your moaning.”

“Can’t when a pickle hits me in all the right spots.”

“You hear yourself, right? You hear how that can be taken out of context?”

I smirk. “Maybe I wanted it to.”

He shakes his head at me. “You’re so fucking dirty.”

“Pot calling the kettle black. Not sure I’ve ever met a dirtier man than you.”

“You haven’t lived long enough,” he says as he lifts his sandwich to his mouth. “Talk to me when you’re thirty.”

“First of all, I don’t plan on having experience with anyone else, and also . . . when I’m thirty, that means you’re forty. Will you even be able to walk around with me, or will Granddad need a cane?”

“Make fun of me all you want,” he says, taking a bite of his sandwich. He chews and swallows. “But when I’m forty, I’ll still make you come harder than any other man.”

My cheeks blush as I realize that is so true.

“So what are the plans for when I’m gone?” he asks as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

“Wallow in self-pity because my fine-ass boyfriend won’t be around.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Just the answer I was looking for.”