by Dawn Sister
"Are you worried I'll hate you in the morning, is that it?" I sigh, unable to hide the pain as I nod, biting my lip,
"I don't want to spoil what we have, Cal. I value our friendship too much." He reaches up to caress my cheek, run his fingers gently through my hair, sending shivers down my spine,
"And so do I." He assures me so tenderly it is actually physically painful, "But I knew from the very beginning that I wanted more from you, Jake. We'll still be friends, we'll always be friends, but I need more, I want more. Please, just kiss me, Jake." He pleads and pulls me down to crush his lips against mine.
I pull away though. I need to get control of this before it gets out of hand but his hands are suddenly all over the place. It's like trying to wrestle a fucking octopus. I don't want to be rough with him but he's strong and I have to use some strength in return as I grab his wrists and pin them above his head.
He gasps and stops moving for a moment, regarding me with wide eyes and heavy breaths. I realise this might not be the best position to be in though when his expression changes to lustful and his tongue thrusts against his top teeth in a wicked grin. I am directly above him now and somehow one of my legs has fallen between his. Quite slowly and deliberately he thrusts upwards to rub his groin against my thigh.
I can't help the groan as he does it. It feels delicious. His cock is so hard and I can feel the heat of it through the layers of our sweat pants,
"Cal!" I gasp, lowering my head into the crook of his shoulder, my entire body shuddering with need and arousal. I can no longer ignore how hard I am in response to his closeness or how damn good this feels,
"Jake." He gasps back, his eyes dark with desire, "Stop over thinking this and kiss me!" He demands.
I lift my head, my eyes wide as they are caught in his sapphire gaze. Oh god. Who am I kidding? I can't say no to this man. I don't think I'll ever be able to say no to him. The desire that I've felt for him over the last month and a half since I first set eyes on him has built to a crescendo and is now almost too much to bear. The memories of that kiss just hours before is still tingling through my body and the feelings I'd put to one side when we discovered the state of his house once more come boiling to the surface.
He pulls me down into another lip crushing kiss and this time I don't fight against it. Our lips crash together and our tongues push for dominance, a fight I now know for a fact he will win.
All this time I've been thinking of him as mine when in reality he has always called the shots and I'm his, all his. He showed me this in the club when he made sure the reception guy knew we were together. He showed me again when he intervened and cock blocked that bear at the bar. His assertiveness both times had sent my senses whirling but I'd thought it had simply been his wish to keep me close for moral support. But even before that, during the weeks I was sick and he hovered over me, spending all that time hanging out on my sofa, I now know he was staking his claim even then.
Our lips part and we regard each other breathlessly. There is a triumph in his eyes and I feel my body reacting to his conquest over my objections. I have never felt so dominated in my entire life but I know I like it. I want this, I want him and I want him to tell me what he wants. I wait, releasing one of his wrists and caressing his cheek.
With his free hand he grabs mine and pulls it between us. Without hesitation he pushes it, palm down, onto his groin. He gasps at the contact and I watch mesmerised, my hand, my entire arm, tingling as he presses his erection up into my palm,
"Feel that?" he asks me breathlessly. I nod, "That's all for you." He captures my gaze, "Only for you, Jake."
"Cal!" I breathe, unable to take in what he's saying, unable to believe this isn't partly the whisky in his system talking.
"Shut up and touch me, make me come, just do something, Jake, please!" he keens, thrusting up into my hand.
My fingers close around his shaft through his sweatpants and he gasps and moans and whimpers as he ruts into my fist. He closes his eyes and loses himself to the sensation. Oh god he's beautiful. Even through the cloth of his pants I can feel the strength of his arousal, I imagine the silkiness of his skin against mine and my hips thrust down against him, my own erection rutting against his thigh,
"God, I want you so much, Jake." He tells me, gasping, "So much, you don't even know."
"Cal." I groan, his words sending my senses soaring. How could I not have noticed he felt the same way? I was so hung up on trying to hide my attraction for him I didn't see what was right in front of me, "I want you." I tell him, "I've wanted you from the moment I set eyes on you the first day you arrived."
He gasps again, his eyes wide, "Jake," his breathing is erratic as his body tenses up, "Oh my god, oh my god." I didn't want to make him come in his pants but I think it might be too late.
I feel his tempo change as he ruts against my hand. He moves faster, but loses his rhythm as his moans become whines and then suddenly I feel him pulsing and jerking as his entire body shatters. With a helpless, shuddering cry he comes without me even touching his skin, pulsing and soaking the cloth of his sweat pants and leaving me feeling…..god I don't know how I feel, I'm stunned at the swiftness of his orgasm and the sheer ferocity of it.
Before I can register any of it though, he has pulled me down into another blistering kiss. With a strength and a swiftness that takes my fucking breath away he turns me onto my back so he is on top, straddling my legs. He thrusts his hand inside my pants,
"Your turn." He growls, smiling and covering my face with kisses.
I gasp and cry out as his warm, slender fingers wrap around my cock. I'm painfully hard and the intensity of just being with him this way has me so close I won't last long,
"Cal." I gasp, wanting to catch my breath but I know he won't let me. He won't stop because he knows there's a possibility I might call a halt to the whole thing.
The truth is though I couldn't, even if all my doubts and misgivings were calling at once. The momentum can't be stopped as his fingers stroke me to orgasm.
I cry out again and thrust up into his palm, fire in my belly: a heat so great it's almost painful.
With one more thrust I'm coming, and coming, pulsing into his hand and spilling over my stomach. His hand slows but it doesn't stop as he milks me, making sure he has wrenched everything from me he possibly can until the sensation becomes too much and I have to stop him with a kiss.
He plants soft, breathless kisses along my jaw line and I moan with each touch of his soft, warm lips. His bottom lip runs across the shell of my ear and I shiver,
"You're mine." He whispers softly and possessively in my ear, "No one else's. Not that receptionist's or that bear at the bar, just mine, all mine."
I gasp at the sincerity and determination in his tone. I can't reply with words, I'm struck speechless, so I reply with actions, turning my head and capturing his lips, kissing him with such animalistic ferocity he moans and surrenders, collapsing on top of me like a rag doll.
I push him to one side but keep my lips on his. We're both a little sticky so we need to clean up before anything else: before I can start to process what just happened.
I start to get out of the bed, my lips the last thing to break contact with him. He falls back into the pillows with a groan. I rush to the guest bathroom, grab a couple of hand towels and throw one at him as I start to clean myself off with mine,
"Are you going to leave?" he asks me quietly. I gasp and sit back onto the bed. All of his dominance, confidence and assertiveness has left him and he looks small and young and uncertain of what will happen next,
"Oh my god, why would you think that?" I ask him, reaching out and touching his lovely face.
I know that whatever I do and say now is going to be very important. This moment is very crucial to the future of our relationship. Whether what we did was advisable or wise is a moot point, we've done it and crossed a line we can't uncross.
His confessions tell me that line would have been crossed eventually any
way. He set that in motion when he kissed me on the drive. He needs to know I feel the same, that I need the same, that I want him just as much.
He leans into my caress and I moan softly as I lie back down, shuffling out of my pants as I do because they're a little sticky.
His must be a lot sticky so I encourage him to do the same, looking him directly in the eye as I do,
"I'm not going anywhere, Cal." I assure him, "I am staying right here." Where I belong, I think, but don't voice.
Wearing just our t shirts I pull Cal into my arms and lie back into the pillows with his head in the crook of my shoulder. He snuggles against me, one of his legs coming up to rest across mine, one hand feeds up inside my t shirt and his fingers play gently with the hairs on my chest.
The sensation of his intimate touch and his body laying the length of mine, his groin, still warm but now flaccid, pressing against my thigh, is almost too much for me. I can feel myself reacting to the contact. I don't think I can muster up anything more tonight though and neither can he, I'm sure. Circumstances have us both exhausted. I stroke his cheek and his hair softly, lulling him to sleep as I pull the covers over us both.
He lifts his head to look at me,
"Oh my god, we really do need to talk." He says in alarm, his eyes wide. I chuckle helplessly, nodding,
"Yes, we do." I say, caressing his lips with my thumb, "But not now. Right now we need to sleep."
He bites his lip and sighs, then nods at the sheer good sense of what I've said. He leans in for a kiss that is soft and tender and achingly beautiful, just like him. He resumes his position draped across mine, his hand flat on my chest as if he's holding me in place. I feel his body grow heavier as he falls asleep in my arms, where he belongs.
Chapter 14: A Rude Awakening
I am vaguely aware that Cal has not moved from his position, draped possessively over me, all night. I think I slept, but only lightly, hyperaware of every tiny movement and miniscule change in the rhythm of his breathing. I haven't moved either. Why would I? I am exactly where I want to be. I can't even begin to fathom the intensity of my feelings right now, or the implications of what we've just shared. We are in our own little protective bubble.
The bubble will burst eventually and then the day promises to be more than a little bit crazy as we try to sort out Cal's house, so I hover between sleep and wakefulness reluctant to disturb Cal or rouse myself.
A loud banging sound jerks me out of my dreamlike state and to a fully woken, sitting position. Cal moves onto his own pillow with a softly protesting moan, oblivious to the noise that has woken me.
For a moment I am completely disorientated because I'm in the guest room and therefore all the normal noises of my house are slightly different. I'm wondering what actually woke me when the banging starts again except it isn't banging, it's knocking, followed by my door bell and another round of knocking,
"Holy shit." I turn and shake Cal awake, "Cal, there's someone at the door, wake up."
Cal sits up looking bleary eyed and dishevelled in my t shirt that is hanging off one shoulder. I'm momentarily distracted by his complete adorableness but as he blinks at me in confusion I realise he doesn't have a fucking clue why I've just shaken him awake.
He's not even awake enough to focus on anything so I grab his chin and force him to look directly at me,
"There's someone at the door, Cal." I tell him, "We have to get up." His eyes widen and he swings his legs around to sit on the edge of the bed then groans and holds his head as if in pain.
That'll be the whisky after effects kicking in. I'm surprised I'm not suffering as well. I step around to his side and kneel down, touching his knee gently. He looks up at me with pain filled eyes,
"Hangover?" I ask. He frowns and nods,
"I think. I never had one before." He tells me, his voice cracked and hoarse, "It feels like my head is gonna explode." I pat his knee in sympathy as I stand. His eyes follow me, wide and as intense as always,
"First time for everything." I tell him, I hand him the glass of water I got for him last night, "Drink this, I'll get you some painkillers when we're dressed." He glances down at my bare legs and then at his own then squeaks in shock and immediately covers himself up as if he has forgotten he was naked from the waist down.
I roll my eyes. There's no time for any unnecessary shyness especially after what we did last night. He takes the glass of water from me and I get up and rush to the door,
"I'll get you some clean clothes." I tell him and he nods, regarding me with wide, vulnerable eyes.
God, I want to do wicked things to him right now. I want to lie him back down on the bed and make him cry out my name in pleasure, like he did last night.
There is another, very insistent and irritable sounding knock at the door which halts my unsavoury thoughts. It's followed by a voice calling through my mail slot,
"Jake, Cal. Are either of you in there?" Oh god it's Sheriff Jefferson!
"We'll be right out Sheriff." I call as loudly as I can, hoping he'll hear.
I rush around my bedroom, pulling on a pair of boxers and grabbing clothes for me and for Cal. We can't go out in public wearing the t shirts and sweats we just had sex in.
I stop dead in my tracks: Cal and I had sex, or at least the precursor to sex: orgasms in each others' presence. Oh my god! I can't think too much about it right now even thought the thrill of the memory is causing electric shocks to course through my entire body. There are other more pressing matters, though: mainly the Sheriff at my door.
Back in the spare room Cal is still sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing his eyes and drinking his water, trying desperately to wake himself up,
"Here!" I thrust a pair of boxers, sweats and a t shirt into his arms, "Put these on, I hope they fit you."
I push one leg into my own sweats and almost trip, right myself and use the momentum to get my other leg in, pulling them up and making for the door as I pull on my t shirt,
"Jake." Cal sounds somewhat distressed and even a little irritable. I turn and he's still not even attempted to unfold the clothes I gave him,
"Get dressed, Cal, what are you waiting for? The Sheriff is here to see you."
His eyes widen and he gasps as he sorts through the pile of clothes I gave him. He discards the boxers with a twist of his face and a slightly hysterical chuckle,
"Oh my god!" he exclaims as he pulls on the sweats without underwear, "I hope you only gave me those as a sick joke."
"Hey." I exclaim back, "Next time I'll let you greet the Sheriff in your birthday suit, or the clothes with the tell tale dried up crusty bits on them." I take umbrage at his dismissal of my underwear. Boxers are perfectly comfortable,
"I'm sorry." He apologises, "I'm grateful for the clothes Jake, but plaid cotton boxers? Really? Who the hell wears plaid cotton boxers nowadays?"
"I do!" I tell him indignantly, "Other people obviously do as well since they are readily available to buy." He snorts as he stands and pulls on his sweats without the boxers.
I step up to him and pull the front of his shirt so he is pulled against me. He moves, unresisting, with a soft, surprised chuckle,
"Now how the hell am I supposed to concentrate on anything today when I know you're going commando?" I say, in a deep tone that I know he won't hear but he will feel.
He shivers, his breath catching in his throat as he smiles and brushes the backs of his fingers across my cheek. His eyes search my face as his other hand slides slowly around my waist and pulls tight, making me gasp,
"Maybe you're not supposed to concentrate on anything but me!" Cal murmurs, raising his eyebrows in a challenge.
I close the small gap between us and capture his lips in a soft, hopefully reassuring kiss. He moans and deepens it, melting into me and wrapping his arms around my neck, weaving his fingers through my hair and adding his tongue for good measure.