“I hope you don’t mind me just showing up?” Wyatt sounded hesitant, almost shy.
“No, not at all,” Val said.
Wyatt wore khakis and a polo shirt with the first few buttons opened. He had a sports jacket with him, but it was flung over one shoulder. Val’s heart stuttered a few beats as he watched the muscles of Wyatt’s arms slide under his skin. Normally he wore a sports jacket or longer sleeves, and Val hadn’t noticed how well built Wyatt’s arms and shoulders were. Val decided right then and there, he definitely had a thing for older men.
“I was kind of hoping you hadn’t had dinner yet and would like to join me.”
As Val got closer, he picked up a hint of cologne and saw a soft sheen on Wyatt’s salt-and-pepper hair, still damp from a recent shower. Warmth curled around Val’s belly and nestled between his legs and in his balls.
“Um…I mean, I’d like to, but…you don’t….” Val’s throat and mouth were too dry for him to talk properly.
Wyatt stepped closer, reached out with his free hand, and ran his palm lightly down Val’s arm to his hand, then took it and applied light pressure before he let go. “Val. I’m asking if you’d like to have dinner with me. For no other reason than I’d love to spend a few hours with you. And I’m hungry.”
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