The doubts about whether or not he wants me as badly are burned away with his kiss, the hungry sounds he’s making, and the erection branding me with its heat.
Talk about whiplash. Were we just opening old wounds and rehashing painful family traumas? I can’t remember, because I’m trying to climb him like a cat in heat and I can tell he’s considering whether to carry me to that couch bed or have his way with me right now on the kitchen floor.
I’m good with either option, I think as I slant my mouth over his and suck on his tongue until he groans. As long as we’re both naked soon.
He manages to lift his head again and my eyes flutter open to glare at the interruption.
“I’ll be careful,” he pants against my lips. “But I’m on the edge, so you really do need to tell me if I’m hurting you. If you’re not ready for this?—”
“Screw that,” I say, managing to sound indignant and muffled at the same time as I tug on his lower lip with my teeth. “Screw all of that nonsense. No more waiting.”
“Thank God.” He lowers us onto the sofa bed and covers my body with his so swiftly I suck in my breath, then lose it with a thankful grunt as his weight presses into me. I’ve wanted this since the bar. To be surrounded by him. It’s been so long.
“You’re hell on my control, Win,” Michael says raggedly. “When you were riding my lap in that office, I almost came in my pants. And that was before you took me in your mouth. This feels…” He rocks between my thighs again and we groan together. “Jesus, this is even better than I remembered. I should have found you sooner. Should have never let you out of my sight.”
It isn’t anything I haven’t thought myself, but hearing it in that deep rough voice of his makes me feel restless. Jittery. Needy. When he grinds his hips against me again, I yank at the hem of his shirt.
“So good,” I moan. “And not that I’m not enjoying this, because wow, but we’re too old for dry humping. In a connected matter, you’re wearing too many clothes.”
“You’re acting impatient after that torture show you just put me through?” He drags his shirt off in one smooth motion before removing mine so forcefully I bounce back against the pillows with a laugh. “I’ve been watching you shudder and moan for over an hour. Licking spoons and sucking on your fingers like a tease. I’ve never been jealous of my food before. I think it’s a new low for me.”
I shiver when our bare chests come together. “I wasn’t teasing you. I was hungry.”
“Are you still hungry now?” He does some magical grind and roll move with his hips and, maybe we’re not too old for this after all, because I don’t remember this being so much of a turn-on.
“Starving,” I tell him honestly. “I’m not usually like this, not that you’ll believe me. Both times we’ve met, I’ve been all over you.”
“I like you all over me,” he growls.
Best answer ever.
“I’m not saying I’m a prude.” My nails dig into his shoulders, forcing him closer. “I have sex all the time.”What?“Okay, notallthe time. Just the normal number of times for a healthy gay man with a community-centric career and the school board breathing down his neck.”Stop talking.“I’ll stop talking now.”
He stares at me a moment before lowering his head to kiss his way down my neck. “I don’t know if you’re trying to piss me off or make me laugh. How do you do that?”
I tilt my head back, every touch of his mouth on my skin an explosion of sensation. “How do I do what? Ruin the mood with random inappropriate verbal explosions? I don’t know. Maybe we could pretend I didn’t say anything. Or we could forget any of this ever happened and eat more cookies instead.”
“They’re macarons,” he corrects against my jaw. “And that’s not happening. Please tell me this conversation is leading somewhere that doesn’t end with you talking about other men while I’m touching you.”
“It is. I’m trying to say this feels different,” I tell him, needing him to understand. “And since I met you, different is the only thing I’ve wanted.”
He raises his head, staring at me with those dark, unfathomable eyes until I start to squirm. Did I say too much? I’m not good at this. Not used to this desire to talk or know what my partner is thinking. Speed, skill and subtlety are usually my three main objectives in this situation.
But like I said, I’ve never been in this situation before. With someone I…like. “What are you thinking, Michael?”
“That I’ve wanted this too,” he confesses softly, his big palms skimming along my ribcage, making my dick jerk in reaction. “And that I highly doubt there’s anything you could say that would ruin this moment for me. Unless you tell me to stop before I make you come.”
“Well, that’s a relief, since stopping is the last thing I’d ask you for.” Does that reedy, panting voice really belong to me? “Get naked, please. Or go faster, maybe.”
“So you’re bossy in bed, then?”
Not usually. “I’m an educator and a control freak. I can’t shut that shit down.”
He exhales a laugh before pumping against me, quick and hard andfuck, I’m losing my mind. Then the pressure is gone and his fingers curl into the loose waistband of my borrowed sweatpants to drag them down slowly. Too slowly.
“Michael.”
He pauses when the material is bunched around my thighs, and I’m about to start whining…until I see the expression on his face. He stares at the hard shaft that’s aching and heavy against my stomach, and I can’t decide if the look he’s giving it makes me want to preen or cover myself.
