Twice Shy

by Sally Malcolm

  The mouth that had sucked him off last night, lips glistening and tongue working breathtaking magic. God, he was in danger of coming just from the memory.

  They kissed on, lazy and languorous, until Ollie sat up. He settled astride Joel’s thighs, their cocks nudging together in a tender, sensual intimacy that set Joel’s pulse pounding in his ears. Ollie said softly, “You’re so amazing.” He ran his hands over Joel’s shoulders, down his arms, across his chest. “As beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.”

  Joel laughed. “Careful, you’ll make me blush.”

  “Hell, yeah, I’ll make you blush,” Ollie said, curling his fingers around Joel’s cock and giving it a slow, sensual stroke.

  Joel let out a pathetic little grunt and Ollie smiled like the devil—a true fallen angel. “Yeah, just like that,” he murmured, leaning in to nuzzle Joel’s jaw. “I love the way you blush. Your cheekbones, across your chest. Fuck.” He nudged his cock against Joel’s, taking them both in one hand and eliciting another helpless grunt. “So good. You feel so good.”

  “Keep that up and I’m not going to last long,” Joel managed to gasp out. Just like last night, he was deeply, shockingly aroused. It felt like witchcraft.

  Ollie smiled and kissed him again, slow and warm, nipping softly at Joel’s lower lip. Joel reached for his hair again, grabbing a handful as he deepened the kiss with a sweep of his tongue. Ollie groaned, his cock pressing hard against Joel’s, both trapped between their bellies now. Oh God, he could come like this without much effort, just rocking against Ollie’s lithe body, all that beautiful bare skin under his hands.

  But Ollie had other ideas. He sat back, breathless and flushed, all kiss-swollen lips and pink cheeks, and bent sideways to snag a condom from where Joel had left the box on the other side of the bed. With a flourish he ripped the packet open with his teeth, setting Joel laughing. He’d never laughed during sex with Helen—it had always been a rather intent, emotional business. Nothing like this, he realized now. Never joyous.

  But he wasn’t laughing when Ollie rolled the condom onto his aching cock, clever fingers making him gasp. When Ollie started slicking him up with lube, Joel could barely breathe. Then, hands braced on Joel’s shoulders, Ollie paused. “Okay?” he said, those warm brown eyes molten. So dark Joel could see himself reflected in their depths.

  “Okay,” Joel said. He ran a hand up one of Ollie’s thighs. “Whatever you want.”

  “I want this.” Holding Joel steady with one hand, Ollie positioned himself and pressed down onto his cock. Slow, careful incursions at first, gently working himself open. God, it felt amazing. And frustrating. So frustrating Joel had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as the hot, tight pressure engulfed him inch-by-inch.

  Ollie was breathing hard, face intent, the muscles of his stomach contracting, eyes half-lidded.

  “God,” Joel gasped, “you’re incredible. You’re a fucking angel.”

  Ollie smiled dazedly, his gaze unfocussed as he took Joel’s cock deeper and deeper. Joel’s heart swelled watching him, emotions unfurling like flowers in the sun. Dangerous, deep emotions. He ran his hands over Ollie’s thighs, feeling them tremble with the strain of holding his weight. Then he traced his fingers higher, ghosting over Ollie’s skin to his hips and waist, enjoying the play of muscle beneath soft skin, holding him steady as he rose and fell, slowly opening himself up. It was an intense intoxicating torture and an exercise in self-control as Joel held still and gazed in awe at his beautiful young lover who’d thrown off, for a few hours, his responsibilities and was simply letting go.

  With Ollie’s eyes closed, head thrown back, and lips parted, he looked sinful and innocent and Joel hardened further just watching him. Christ, he wanted to pound him hard. And he wanted to kiss him gently and tend to his every whim.

  Giving a low deep-throated groan, Ollie finally sank all the way down and his head fell forward, curls cascading over his forehead. For a while he stayed still, breathing fast, eyes closed. The heat and pressure around Joel’s cock felt incendiary and he had to grit his teeth against his need to thrust up. Then, slowly, Ollie started circling his hips.

  “Ah, God,” Joel breathed, fingers clamping onto Ollie’s hipbones.

  Ollie let go of Joel’s shoulders and sat up straighter, gazing with heavy-lidded eyes as he rose up, thighs straining, and sank down again. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and smiled. Joel had no doubt he knew exactly what he was doing with that devastating sexy little grin. “You feel fucking amazing, Joel.”

  “You too. Don’t stop.”

  With a breathy laugh, Ollie threw his head back, shaking his hair out of his eyes and braced his arms behind him so that his back arched, giving Joel a perfect view of his taut body and flushed, eager cock. “Oh yeah,” Ollie moaned as he moved. “Oh God, right there. Right fucking there.”

  And then he began to move in earnest.

  Joel collapsed back, gripping the bed sheets to keep from thrusting up, letting Ollie set the pace. He was happy just watching. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen: thighs taught, stomach muscles clenching, nipples dark and erect, gooseflesh rising over his skin. And the sounds, those sweet urgent moans and babbling words of desire. Yeah, yeah. Oh God, oh fuck. Joel felt dizzy, wasn’t sure he was still breathing. Maybe all his blood had rushed to his cock, because he’d never been so absurdly aroused as he was in this moment with this man. His world was tilting, readjusting to spin on a new axis.

  Laboring for air, he propped himself up on one elbow and slid his hand along Ollie’s thigh to his balls, cupping them, relishing the heavy heft of them in his palm. Ollie groaned, breath hitching. “Yes, touch me. Fuck.”

  As Ollie rose up again Joel slid his fingers back further, to the stretched skin where they met. So tight. He pressed lightly, just behind Ollie’s balls, and thrilled as Ollie moaned in pleasure, inarticulate and brazen. On trembling thighs, he held himself still as Joel stroked and played with his balls and ass, his cock leaking and untouched between them.

  “Fuck,” Ollie gasped at last. “Joel—fucking do it. Touch me.”

  Smiling, he kept on teasing the soft skin behind his balls while Ollie panted, gasping for air, legs trembling. Then, with a sweep of his hand, Joel traced his fingers back down the crease of Ollie’s groin and over the quivering muscle of his thigh. With Joel’s hand no longer between them, Ollie sank back down with a desperate groan. His rigid cock was flushed and glistening, and Joel was about two minutes away from blowing his stack. But he didn’t want to, not yet.

  “Ollie.” He bit out the word against his rising orgasm. Ollie gazed at him with dark, sex-befuddled eyes and watched as Joel ran his hand up over Ollie’s chest to his kiss-swollen lips. “Suck,” he growled, and with a groan Ollie took two fingers into his mouth, his clever tongue twining around them.

  Joel shuddered, helplessly thrusting up into Ollie’s body. He could feel his release bearing down like a train on the tracks. Inevitable, relentless. Slipping his fingers free, he wrapped them around Ollie’s straining cock and grinned as he groaned in relief. Joel jerked him hard and Ollie went wild, thrusting down onto Joel’s cock and up into his fist, eyes closed, head twisting back and forth as he lost himself in utter abandon. When he came it was with a shout, pulsing in long thick strands over Joel’s hand and onto his stomach. And that was it, that was enough. Joel came with sudden blinding intensity, a rush of emotion so powerful it left him reeling. He felt raw, undone. Utterly exposed. And then Ollie collapsed forward, and Joel caught him, cradling him close. He couldn’t keep him close enough. “Fuck,” Ollie breathed raggedly into his neck. “Joel. Fucking hell.”

  To his horror, Joel’s eyes prickled with tears, his throat thick with emotion. All he could do was stroke Ollie’s back and press kisses into his damp hair. He was still half-hard when Ollie lifted himself off, but his heart was soft as mush. Melting like snow in sunshine. This boy, this beautiful boy. He nuzzled Ollie’s jaw, mouthing along the sh
arp line of it, kissing until he reached Ollie’s soft, sated mouth. Tangling his fingers in his hair, Joel kissed him and kissed him again to keep his own dumb lips from forming words he’d regret.

  It was the most intense sexual experience of Joel’s life.

  For a long time after, they lay where they’d fallen, wrapped in each other, trading tender touches and soft smiles. Joel gazed into Ollie’s dazed eyes and stroked his face, his tangled hair, overwhelmed by a powerful protectiveness. It washed over him in waves, cresting, subsiding, and then swelling once more, each wave more terrifying in its intensity and thrilling in its honesty than the last.

  So much for keeping things casual.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ollie tried not to, but it was impossible to resist. Sharing breakfast on Sunday morning, with the sun streaming in through h the picture windows, it was impossible not to imagine Rory and Luis there too. Playing on the floor, perhaps, or running around in the yard.

  Funny thing was, as hard as it sometimes was parenting them, he missed them like hell when they were apart. And as much as he’d loved his grownup weekend with Joel, he couldn’t help feeling that it would have been even better sharing it with the kids. Truth was, part of his heart was absent without them, absent and longing to be whole.

  “Penny for them?” Joel smiled at him across the table. He’d forsaken his oatmeal and made a lavish brunch of bacon, eggs, and pancakes—they’d certainly worked up an appetite last night. Several times. And once more this morning.

  He smiled back. “I was just thinking that the boys would love this.” He speared a chunk of pancake and swirled it through the syrup. “Rory has a sweet tooth.”

  Joel blinked a couple times and said, “Bring them over. Anytime.”

  “Yeah? They’d get sticky fingers all over your gorgeous house.”

  “I don’t care. I told you, I love kids.” He looked down at his plate and added, “I always wanted kids.”

  Ollie’s heart jumped. Oh yes, it was all too easy to imagine lazy Sundays here with Joel and the boys. But he knew he had to be careful. He couldn’t involve them in his relationship with Joel—barely even a relationship yet—until things were much more certain between them. For a start, Joel wasn’t out. Obviously, that would be a big roadblock to any kind of relationship that involved the kids. And there was no kind of long-term relationship that didn’t involve them.

  But. Early days. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help saying, “Probably not a good idea to bring them over if you want to keep this on the lowdown at school.”

  “Right. That’s—” Joel’s gaze darted back to him. “I guess we should keep things casual for now, anyway. Don’t you think?”

  It hadn’t felt casual last night, not drowsing in Joel’s arms after that intense heart-pounding sex. Or later, eating dinner together in front of the fire, making out languidly before they fell back into bed together. None of that had felt casual, but perhaps he was being unfair. It had only been a single weekend, a vacation from real life. “Happy to take things slow,” he said, smiling to hide a flash of disappointment. “I need to anyway, for the boys’ sake. They don’t need guys coming in and out of my life.”

  Joel frowned, perhaps not liking the idea of guys, plural, coming in and out of Ollie’s life. “You do have to think about what’s best for Rory and Luis.”

  “On that note…” Ollie got to his feet. “It’s been a great weekend, Joel. Thank you.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  The regret in his voice was painfully sweet and Ollie waivered. “I need to get home, do some laundry and stuff before I go fetch the boys.”

  Joel looked like he was about to object, or perhaps offer to help—and Ollie’s arm would have been easily twisted—but in the end he just stood up and said, “Okay. Yeah, I have a few… Some stuff to do, too.”

  They walked to the front door together but stopped before Ollie opened it. “This was great,” he said again. “Really great.”

  “It was.” Joel snagged his hand. “I don’t want you to think that because I don’t want to…to go public that I don’t…didn’t… That is”—he looked pained—“it was amazing. All of it.”

  Ollie smiled and squeezed his fingers, his earlier unease melting. “It was.”

  “I’d like to do it again. I mean, see you again.”

  But nowhere near school, of course. “After Thanksgiving, then, I guess? We’re spending it with the Palmers.”

  “Right, yeah.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, hair that Ollie now knew felt heavy and satiny running through his fingers. “Happy Thanksgiving, then.”

  “You too.” Ollie leaned in and kissed him, a semi-chaste parting that lingered hopefully before Ollie pulled himself away and headed back out into the real world.

  ∞∞∞

  Thanksgiving was…difficult.

  Joel got a lot of work done around the house, stripped all the paper off the third bedroom and tried out several paint samples. Distraction, Amy would have called it. Avoidance. She’d have been right.

  Problem was, he missed Ollie. A lot.

  The house felt empty, his bed felt emptier, and it reminded him terrifyingly of the weeks and months after Helen left. To be frank, it freaked him out that he could miss someone so much after one weekend together. But what did he expect? He always fell too fast.

  He didn’t bother asking Amy for an appointment. She wasn’t his relationship adviser and, anyway, he knew she wouldn’t be available over the holiday weekend. This was something he had to handle himself, like the grownup he was supposed to be.

  The weekend he’d shared with Ollie had been special, but it had left him feeling vulnerable. Open to pain in a way he’d spent years avoiding. Was it worth it? When he remembered how he’d felt with Ollie in his arms he couldn’t regret a moment. God, how had he forgotten the glorious joy of good sex? Or had sex never felt quite so glorious before?

  Either way, when he thought about how he’d felt then, or how he’d felt when they’d cycled up to the old lighthouse together, or made out in front of the fire, he thought it probably was worth it.

  But that feeling had been happiness. Dangerous, and fragile as a soap bubble. He knew just how he’d feel when it popped.

  None of which had stopped him from texting Ollie over the weekend or kept his stomach from cramping and swooping whenever he heard the friendly ping of a message alert. They talked music (Joel preferred political podcasts), TV (both were hooked on police procedurals), sport (Ollie preferred theater, Joel was a Yankees fan, but both agreed they could learn to like the other) and generally goofed about. Ollie sent a couple of adorable selfies with the kids, and Joel sent one back of himself in his paint-spattered overalls holding a paint roller—he wrote in the text ‘My thanksgiving’ and hoped he didn’t look too lonely.

  So it wasn’t a surprise when, lying in bed late on Sunday night, a new message popped up on his phone. In fact, Joel had been anticipating it.

  Ollie: Home! Also, Christmas Market on Sat 2pm. You going? Jackie’s rounding up volunteers...

  The charity Christmas Market had been running for a couple years, held in a church parking lot in downtown New Milton. Some of the older kids from school sang carols around the Christmas tree to raise money, and the PTA ran a stand selling Christmas decorations handmade by the kids. Joel had helped the past couple years. It would be a way they could spend time together without anyone jumping to conclusions—as long as they were careful not to give themselves away.

  He replied: Sure. Fun way to start the buildup to Christmas & there’s going to be a Santa & sleigh this year for the kids.

  Ollie replied instantly, and Joel could picture him lying in bed with his phone. It was a picture that thrilled him. Sounds good, I’ll tell Jackie I’ll be there. But are you free sooner? Tuesday night?

  Joel: What did you have in mind?

  The little dancing dots signaling that Ollie was typing came and went a couple times, then his reply popped up: Pizza and
Scrabble?

  Joel replied with nothing more than a smiley face.

  Remembering that the next morning made him grin, even as he cycled into the school parking lot with a biting wind in his face. He was still smiling when Jackie Olsen popped her head out of the school office and said, “Mr. Morgan? Do you have a moment?”

  Perhaps so many thoughts of Ollie had dulled his perceptions, because he didn’t notice that Jackie was uncomfortable until she led him to the easy chairs in a quiet corner of the school library and sat down, legs crossed defensively. He felt a pang of unease as she offered a tense smile. “How was your Thanksgiving, Mr. Morgan?”

  “Good. How can I help you, Jackie?” He preferred to cut to the chase.

  Jackie cleared her throat. “It’s been brought to my attention that one of the parents on the PTA committee is a…a homosexual.”

  His jaw tensed. “If you mean Ollie Snow, then, yes. He’s gay. So what? Everyone knows he’s gay.”

  “Obviously, I don’t mind. But some parents—"

  “I don’t see why it’s anyone’s business. Including yours.”

  She flushed, color rising beneath the powder on her cheeks. “Well…if you’ll let me finish. I wanted to make you aware of a certain rumor circulating about Mr. Snow.”

  Joel’s heart jolted painfully. “What rumor?”

  “I’m sure it’s nonsense.” Her blush deepened. “I know you had a wife. But there’s a rumor that you and Mr. Snow are…involved.”

  It was difficult to catch his breath, to get enough air into his lungs to respond. The room was too bright, too hot, too vivid. A distant part of his brain recognized he was spiraling into panic, but he felt too far away to prevent it.

  Thinking of you fucking a man? It makes me sick to my stomach, Joel.

  His head swum, cold sweat standing out on his forehead. Christ, was the whole school discussing him? Judging him? What a damn fool he’d been to think he could handle this again.