And this time, I’m the one who shuts him up with a kiss.
* * *
Booker
For the second time today, I’m kissing Ian McBride. And just like earlier, I don’t want to stop. We managed to stumble through the doorway, our lips still locked, and make our way to the couch.
But once again, Ian stops short. “There are things we need to talk about.”
I plant a quick kiss on his lips before pulling back and taking my t-shirt off. “I don’t want to talk, Ian.”
“Too bad. This is important. And don’t think you can distract me with your hotness. I mean, you can, but not yet.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses a few buttons before showing me the screen. “These are my most recent test results. They’re from a few weeks ago. I haven't been with anyone in months, so these are up to date, but I don’t want you to just take my word for it.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
“We go at your pace, Book. Whatever you want, or don’t want, that’s what’s on the menu. And we take it slow, at first, ok? I’m in no rush. Don’t get me wrong,” he laughs, a blush staining his cheeks as he looks down at his pants, “I am clearly interested. But we have time for that. We’re not in a race to get there.”
“Speak for yourself,” I deadpan.
“I’m not saying I’m not eager as hell to get you naked, I’m just saying there are lots of things we can do. Sex isn’t just one act, Booker. There are so many ways to make each other feel good.”
“Do any of those things involve you taking your shirt off?” I ask. “Because I’m dying to know what you look like under those button-downs. The sexy professor vibe is strong, but is naked professor an option?”
He smiles wickedly. “In fact, we do have that model in store, especially because I am no longer your professor in any sense of the word.”
I kick off my sneakers, scooch to the other end of the sofa, and lean against the cushions before spreading my legs wide. It’s one of those big, L-shaped models with deep, overstuffed cushions, and I can suddenly see why all my roommates call it the “good couch”. Lacing my fingers together behind my head, I relax and watch the show.
Ian stands and I drink in the sight of him. He toes off his shoes and kicks them to the side. His socks quickly follow and then he slows down, taking his sweet time, carefully unfastening each button on his shirt.
“You’re killing me,” I complain, but I’m smiling.
“Get used to it,” he says. “And maybe now’s the time to tell you… I’m a bottom, but I’m also bossy as hell. I might be on the receiving end of things, but damn, do I like to call the shots.”
I inhale sharply. “So, that means, when we…I get to…” The imagery alone has my cock throbbing.
“You get to put your dick in my ass? Yes, Booker, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want,” I say as images of Ian on all fours flood my mind. “But I don’t want to hurt you. I—”
“Believe me, babe, it’s gonna feel so good.” He looks pointedly at my crotch where everything the good Lord gave me is proudly on display. These sweatpants hide nothing, and his words are so hot that pre-cum leaks from the tip, showing through the light gray fabric. I want to be embarrassed, but his gaze is like fire, and I can tell he’s just as turned on as I am.
“It’s gonna be tight, so tight. God, look at you. Hard and thick and long, and fuck…” He sucks in a breath as he unfastens the last button on his dress shirt. “But I’m gonna take you so good, Booker. I’m going to be so ready for you. I’m going to take every inch of this perfect dick. I can’t fucking wait.”
He licks his lips, and I nearly come right then and there.
“So, remind me why we’re waiting?”
“Because, Booker,” he says softly, dropping his shirt to the floor. “I want to kiss you some more. I want to mark your skin with my lips. I want to suck your cock, and make you lose your mind. I want to hold your head in my hands and tug at your hair while you wrap those pouty lips around my dick. I want you to tease my hole with your fingers and your lips.We’ll get there, baby, but there are so many fun things we can do along the way.”
On instinct, I’ve slipped my hand into my sweats and started stroking myself. Masturbation is strictly frowned upon where I come from, but the need is too strong to ignore. I will say that the porn I’ve watched has never been anywhere near as hot as the sight of a shirtless Ian McBride.
He unbuckles his belt, his gaze locked firmly on mine. “This ok?”
“So ok. Completely fine. In fact, really, really great.”
The dark jeans fit him like a second skin and as he shimmies out of them, the shake of his hips entrances me. Finally, he kicks them aside and stands before me in a pair of tight black boxer briefs.
I groan, jacking myself.
