When I’m dressed, I turn and find him standing by the bedroom door, wearing an undershirt and dark jeans. His face is calm. He even looks relaxed.
“It’s all good, brother. Good time had by all, yeah?” He nods toward the hall, and I follow him through the den, to the front door, which he pushes open for me. Cold air hits my warm cheeks. His arm flexes as he holds the door.
I take the stairs two at a time.
“This is under lock and key,” he says as we crunch leaves en route to my car. “Don’t worry about me. Ever. Okay?”
He’s right beside me, by the car door. I pull the thing open. I turn toward to him—to say something—but no words come. Instead, my neck and face flush, and my legs feel cold and shaky. I sink into the driver’s seat and look up at him. He leans on the doorframe, looking down at me with moonlight pooled in his eyes. Time is moving fast and too slow all at once.
He leans in a little, but he doesn’t crouch down so we’re level.
“Thanks for meeting me here.” His mouth is a line, but he tucks the corners up a little for me. “Have a safe drive back.”
His hand moves toward me, like he’s going for a hand-shake. Instead, he clasps my shoulder—giving it a gentle squeeze.
Something shifts in my chest, like a ball starting to roll. I see my hand reach for him. See my fist grip his shirt. It rips as I pull him down to me.
I hear myself say, “I lied.” Then our mouths meet.SevenVance
He’s a liar. Yes, he is. He’s a liar and he’s scared—but I’ve got him. I’ve got his seat back, and I’m straddling his hips. I’m rubbing up against him through the fabric of our pants and kissing his neck like I want him to remember me.
I press my cheek against his, breathing fast and heavy. “Don’t be scared, man. It’s just you and me.” I bite his throat so that he doesn’t try to answer. I love the hoarse noise he makes. I run my fingers into his blond hair and tug the short locks. His eyes hold mine as our mouths meet again. We both groan as the kiss deepens.
I don’t know why it’s like this with us—everything electric, every damn touch supercharged until it hurts. It’s undeniable, insensible. And I have to have it.
I reach down between his legs and press the button so the driver’s seat will slide back, giving me the space I need to take his pants down. I grin as his cock springs up—and mine throbs where it’s tucked against my lower belly.
“Ready to leave, huh?” I start stroking him, and he starts moaning. I lean down, barely able to bend enough to get his head into my mouth—but I do, and he makes a ragged, desperate sound.
I work his boxer-briefs back up over his stiff erection, pulling them over the hose of his cock and rubbing through the cotton.
“Fix your pants and meet me inside, McDowell.”
I walk to the porch with long strides, panting as I step into the house. My heart is pounding like a drum. Maybe he won’t follow. I look through the partly open door, and there he is. I can see his boner tenting his pants as he comes up the stairs.
As soon as he’s inside, I push him up against the door—the way he had me—and take his perfect angel face in my hands. I kiss him long and soft…then hard enough to hurt…and then drop down to worship his erection.
I suck him a few times then work him with my hand. “I’m the first one, aren’t I?”
I suck one of balls into my mouth, and he grunts.
“Doesn’t matter,” I whisper from base to tip.
“You want one night, I can give you a night. Just don’t say it’s a fucking mistake.”
I go at him hard and heavy—blowing him so good he slides down the door. When he’s on the floor, his knees raised with me between them, I rub behind his balls and stroke his sac and work his cock till he’s on his back moaning.
He’s so close…but I prolong it just because I want to. Because with guys, I’m usually the top. I can bottom for him, but I sort of want to make him suffer for it—even just this once.
He comes with a lion’s roar. I swallow it down, and then he’s dragging me back to the bedroom. We fuck again, this time with me riding his lap.
Afterward, we get into the shower. He pulls me against his chest and holds me tight under the hot spray. After that, he’s soulful eyes and princely lips and damp, warm skin. Something’s different in him. I don’t know what.
I take his hand and lead him through the house. I twine my fingers through his and stop at the front door.