Dirty Boys

flirty, not gross.”
    I didn’t know what to make of Connor’s revelation. Did he really want to flirt with me, or had he just said that as an excuse? If he had been flirting, then maybe if I played my cards right, he would end up doing more than just flirt.
    When we reached the steps leading up to his front door, he paused. As I looked at him, he was nervously biting his bottom lip.
    “Seriously, I can walk up the stairs by myself. I’m fine, really,” I said, saving him from having to ask whatever he was biting his lip to avoid. To demonstrate, I casually shrugged out of his grip and walked up the two steps without stumbling once. Smiling triumphantly, I raised both hands and said, “See?”
    “I’m sorry. I’m overreacting. Seeing you fall just freaked me out I guess.” Connor walked past me to open the front door.
    Stepping inside, I toed off my boots, peeled the gloves off my hands, and took off my bright reflective vest, leaving it all just inside his front door. I followed him inside, looking around at the clean house. I surreptitiously sniffed myself. Thankfully, I didn’t smell. At least I didn’t think I did. I said a word of thanks that there hadn’t been any accidents or broken bags this morning. Thank God, it wasn’t one of those days where I was hit with some unidentifiable substance shooting out of the crusher.
    ****
    Connor led me through his comfortably decorated living room and into the kitchen. He pulled one of the chairs out from his round, wooden table and turned it to face the room. “Go ahead and sit here while I run and grab some supplies,” he said, as he walked out of the room.
    I took the opportunity to wash my hands in the sink, as I hadn’t realized they’d gotten so sweaty. I imagine that had more to do with being so close to Connor than because of the gloves. They were used to the gloves.
    I was sitting in the high-back chair by the time Connor returned. At first, he looked relieved that I was still there, like I would actually leave. But then his face shifted into a smile sweet enough to make my insides melt. The fluttering in my stomach had nothing to do with the embarrassment I’d felt earlier and everything to do with the way Connor was currently looking at me. I really liked how eager he was to take care of me, even if I wasn’t really hurt.
    ****
    He set his first aid kit on the table, pulling out what he needed. Turning to face me, he opened an antiseptic pad. I was already looking up at him, but he still put his hand under my chin to tilt my head further back. I could feel the warmth of his hand all the way to my toes. His grip was firm but gentle, and although it wasn’t sexual, his touch made my cock even harder in my jeans. “This might sting,” he warned.
    “It’s okay, I’m a big boy,” I said playfully, looking him in the eyes.
    He licked his lips and said in a low voice I almost didn’t hear, “I just bet you are.” He pressed the pad to my forehead above my left eyebrow, and I flinched and closed my eyes. It wasn’t too painful, just burned a little.
    A few minutes later, after he finished cleaning and then putting a bandage over the scratch, he asked, “Were you hurt anywhere else?” He let his gaze travel down my body, and I knew he saw my hard-on when his eyes widened a little.
    I realized I was holding my breath as I watched him swallow. I had trouble taking my eyes off his throat, but eventually our gazes met. He’d already seen my obviously-aroused cock, but my desire and willingness must have been readable in my expression because his smile spread sensually across his face.
    It must have been all he needed to know, as seconds later he was dropping down between my spread legs, resting his hands on my lower thighs. Looking back up at me, he said, “Did you scrape your knees or anything?”
    I gently shook my head, letting him know my knees were fine, if you didn’t count the anxious shaking he undoubtedly felt. “So, there is nothing else I can help you take care of?” he practically purred, letting his eyes drift down to the bulge of my hard cock pressing against my jeans.
    His hands very slowly slid up my thighs, and I watched as he licked his bottom lip. “I wouldn’t be a very good nursemaid if I didn’t make sure you were fully taken care of. And it looks like you have some swelling I could help alleviate.”
    “Okay,” I said hoarsely. My brain was pretty much short-circuiting at this point. I may not have been