“Condom?” he managed to get the one word out, and Brad pointed to a drawer beside the bed, which, indeed, when Aaron opened it up did have condoms and lube inside. It took only a second to roll the sheath down Brad’s impressive cock, but there was a sense of power to it that Aaron sort of got off on.
He was the one on top. He was the one driving Brad crazy with his hands, the one slicking the lube over Brad and taking the chance to stroke him as he did. He was the one making Brad make incredibly sexy little noises, the one making Brad moan and push up against him.
It was him, and Brad could have whatever issues he wanted to have about bottoming, that was fine. As long as Aaron could throw his leg over Brad, as long as he could lower himself onto him, as he was doing, then he was fine. More than fine.
The way Brad was stretching him open, he was damn near incredible, actually. Brad didn’t know what he was missing out on.
The remnants of sleep still gripped Aaron, and it forced him to slow down a little bit more than he usually would have, especially when he wanted someone as much as he wanted Brad. He rocked on top of him, swiveling his hips to take that amazing cock right against his prostate, little moans spilling from his lips in a way that he couldn’t even help.
Brad’s hands rested on the subtle curve of Aaron’s slender hips, encouraging his movements, seemingly more than happy to let Aaron do all the work. Which was a sign of trust in itself, wasn’t it? It was so different from their first time when it had all been heat and passion and rushed with Aaron spread out over the desk.
No doubt that had been amazing, but so was this. With no chance of being caught, with nothing to do but relax and slowly wake up fully as they rocked together, Aaron’s hands on Brad’s chest, steadying himself as he gazed down into Brad’s eyes.
It would have been intimate if they had been different people, Aaron supposed. It might have meant something if it could. As it was, it still felt really, really good, and for once in his life, Aaron just let himself get swept up in something, let feeling good be enough of a reason without having to overthink it.
It didn’t mean anything at all, the way their eyes linked as they moved together, the way Brad’s hands rested possessively on the curve of Aaron’s ass. Sex was all this was, all that either of them wanted, and Aaron tried to tell himself that, to hold onto those thoughts, as the waves of pleasure started to crash around him, to build, to threaten to sweep him away completely.
He held on for longer than he would have thought he could, telling himself over and over that it didn’t matter, that it meant nothing. Until Brad’s hands tightened on Aaron’s ass, and the other man gave a soft cry as he spilled inside of Aaron. It was then that the pleasure completely overwhelmed him, sweeping him away entirely, and then he didn’t think of anything at all.
* * *
There was no cuddling after, just like the first time. Aaron hadn’t expected there to be, and he was most definitely not disappointed. He wasn’t. When Brad rolled out of bed and into the other room, Aaron lay back in the soft, comforting embrace of the bed and tried not to think about anything at all.
He heard the shower start and sighed softly to himself. Brad was so eager to literally wash all traces of what they had done away, but that was for the best. Better for him to know what this was, better for them both.
Oh, but when Brad came out, with just a towel knotted around his waist, his chest broad and his arms toned and strong, Aaron couldn’t help but stare. He just couldn’t. He had always had a thing for big, strong men, and Brad, under his fussy suits, was exactly Aaron’s type.
The suits thing, well, that was a bit new for him, but on Brad, it somehow worked, which didn’t make it less heartbreaking when Brad picked out another suit and started to dress silently, transforming himself, in a few moments, from a sex God into a business God. A very, very sexy one, but still.
“The shower is all yours,” Brad offered and then disappeared out through the door, while Aaron forced himself to stand up. A shower did sound good and even drew him out of bed.
The bathroom was still steamy, and it smelled like Brad, which Aaron tried to ignore. He started the water going again and stepped under the spray, which he turned up as hot as his skin could stand it. Like he could scour himself of not only the dirt and sweat on his skin but also of the memories which were far too compelling.
It didn’t work. Even turning his face to the hot spray didn’t save him from himself. He kept thinking, and slowly, his brain turned away from the events of just a few minutes and to the previous night.
And not just to the sex, either, which might have been all right. Sex was fine, or at least inevitable, between the two of them. But Aaron kept thinking about how it had been to go out with Brad on what he couldn’t help but think was a date.
Was it possible to date someone you were working with, he wondered, as he poured Brad’s shower gel onto his hand and started to lather up. Could he make that work? Would Brad want to?
And then there was this thing with the contract. If he signed the long-term one, that would make Brad his boss, no doubt about it. His manager, just his. But what about Leah?
More and more, he was starting to wonder if there was some way to make all of this work. Wasn’t it possible? Shouldn’t he at least be looking at it, since he had to admit, at least to himself, that he wanted it?
He wanted a solo act. Hadn’t every kid who had taken dance classes and voice lessons dreamed of a day when they would be on stage, all eyes on them, the bright lights making everything shimmer and sparkle until you couldn’t even see the audience anymore? But you could hear them, always hear them, and be lifted up by the waves of their adoration.
Yes, Aaron had wanted that. But he wanted his sister to be safe more. If there was a way to do both, then he was interested in at least thinking about it. But that did seem to be a bit impossible, so he turned off the water, clean now, and stepped out to wrap himself in a big, snowy white, clean towel which Brad must have left out just for him.
Once he was dressed, and out of the billowing mist in the bathroom, Aaron smelled coffee, and the crisp, salty smell of bacon and eggs frying. Brad was cooking breakfast, because the other man needed to be more adorable, more irresistible, to Aaron.
Damn it, he was still screwed, and he still had no idea how he was going to deal with that.
