Obvious

by R. G. Alexander

  “Takes one to know one.”

  When they stopped at the bright blue Impala, Matthew whistled. “Nora was right. That is a lot of machine.”

  “Who’s Nora?”

  “Robert. The handsome suit at the front desk who likes breasts, remember? We call him Nora. He loves it. So who does this car belong to? Another guy you’re just friends with?”

  “My cousin Ruben.” Oliver blew out a frustrated breath and leaned against the side of the car in question. “He agreed to let me borrow it for a month, which is a huge deal since he loves his baby. But he thinks it’s for a job, and I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this.”

  His cousin. Thank God.

  Matthew stepped closer, invading his space and cupping his shoulder casually. “Friends talk, don’t they? I told you everything you never wanted to know about me. Now you can return the favor and tell me why you borrowed that car just to get to Finn’s Ring.”

  Oliver hesitated. “I needed it. My other car is a bicycle, and it’s too far away from where I live for that to work.”

  He was still holding back.

  “You’re a mystery, Oliver. Why go so far out of your way and lie to your cousin to do it? I know for a fact William’s isn’t the only boxing club in town. It’s not even open yet. And why boxing? You’re a dancer. You should be at a studio or something.”

  The hands that wandered over Matthew’s stomach were distracting him. He could feel the heat of them through his shirt. His muscles tightened as they started traveling lower, exploring. Seducing.

  “What are you doing?” he asked gruffly.

  “You keep asking questions, but all I can think about is finishing our date before we start this new friendship.”

  Matthew forced a laugh through his tight throat. “Getting some mixed signals here, Garcia. I thought you didn’t want this.”

  “A kiss. All I want is one kiss.”

  Oliver lifted himself up and brushed his lips against Matthew’s once. Twice.

  He’d been coming up with a plan to seduce Oliver out of his reticence as they’d walked to their cars, but it looked like he’d been beaten to the punch.

  Worked for him. And if he only got one kiss, he’d damn sure make it count.

  Chapter Four

  Rory: This guy looks like he’d be a romantic. Maybe even a touch old fashioned, despite his tiny stripper shorts. Since it’s your first experience with a man, go ahead and take your time. Top or bottom, foreplay is your friend. But lube is your BFF. I think I have an extra bottle in the car for emergencies.

  Robert: Hold up! Are you telling him to take his time by having sex on the first date? With a straight face? What happened to, “A kiss at the door always leaves them wanting more?”

  Rory: Your mother taught you that rhyme, didn’t she? Be honest.

  Robert: Shove it up your lube bottle, Barbie.

  Oliver knew how to use those lips. His kiss was pure sex, carnal and filthy and so fucking good Matthew was almost jealous of his skill.

  Had he ever wanted anyone this badly? Had he ever been so aware of the person in his arms? Every sweet breath against his lips. The smell of soap and sweat on skin that burned beneath his touch when he dragged him closer. The erection that was just as hard as his when it brushed against him.

  That. That felt better than he’d imagined it would. That was everything.

  He held Oliver tighter so he could feel it again.

  Any lingering questions about who and what he wanted were gone. Nothing he’d experienced compared to Oliver’s body trembling against his.

  This.

  Matthew gripped his tempting ass with both hands, squeezing and massaging it with a possessiveness that should have shocked him. He ground their cocks together and felt his knees go weak as he reveled in Oliver’s moan. He needed more.

  Before he knew what he was doing he had him on the hood of the car, hands now guiding those strong, dancer’s thighs to wrap around his waist.

  Closer. Yes. Please. Like that.

  “Please,” Oliver whispered against his jaw, his teeth sinking into the flesh of Matthew’s neck.

  Jesus, what was he doing?

  Dry humping your date in a public parking lot like an oversexed teen.

  It was already better than any sex in recent memory, but that wasn’t the point. Oliver said one kiss. That’s all. One kiss.

  “We need to stop,” he grunted, his zipper digging into his painful erection doing nothing to slow down his thrusts. “You said you wanted to be smart. To be friends. I don’t want you doing something you’ll regret.”

  Don’t regret this.

  Oliver’s legs tightened around him. “Friends, right,” he echoed, breathless. “Friends can help each other out, can’t they? Give each other a hand?”

  He slipped his between their bodies, unzipping Matthew’s jeans with a speed and skill that might have made him jealous if it wasn’t such a fucking relief. And then— “Oliver?”

  He swore when Oliver’s fingers tightened around his thick shaft. “Oh, Matthew. Look what I found.”

  “It wasn’t really hiding. And is this what you call kissing?” He tilted his head back, trying not to shout as Oliver stroked him off. God, he was ready to burst.

  Not here. Not here.

  He gripped the back of Oliver’s neck hard and saw those big eyes dilate. “If so, we’re going to need to get to a bed as soon as possible so I can kiss you back.”

  Oliver was licking his lips, his grip tightening until Matthew found the will to remove his hand. “Where?” he asked urgently.

  “Your place? It has to be your place,” Oliver breathed raggedly.

  Matthew lived in Seamus Finn’s old house with his sister. If she were home, she’d give him hell for bringing anyone home, let alone a man. Loud, mood-killing hell.

  Oliver’s erection slid against his again, the denim dragging along his bare cock enough to set him on fire and make the decision for him. He’d have to risk Calamity’s ire.

  “My place works.”

  They kissed again until Oliver started laughing breathlessly against his mouth. “We’re going to get arrested.”

  It took Matthew a full minute to respond. “I’ve got connections. My cousin is the chief of police.”

  But he released Oliver and raked shaking fingers through his hair.

  “Of course he is.” Oliver slid off the hood, holding on to the car as if his legs were made of rubber. “I can’t leave Ruben’s car behind. It’s his baby. Give me the address and I’ll follow you.”

  Matthew paused in the act of zipping up his pants to reach for Oliver again. “Not changing your mind again, are you?”

  His smile was sinful. “You’ll get your kiss tonight, Matthew. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Somehow, he managed to step away from temptation with a nod and walk stiffly to his car, calling out his street address as he rounded the hood.

  He drove home on automatic pilot, half his attention on the Impala’s headlights in his rearview, the other trying to get his arousal under control.

  This was happening. Despite Oliver’s hesitation and Matthew’s nerves. He didn’t fool himself. He knew Oliver had originally kissed him to stop him from asking questions he didn’t want to answer. He’d been changing the subject or using their chemistry as a shield all night.

  He recognized that bob and weave since he’d used it himself. Surface information only, no digging allowed. Keep your distance. Oliver was showing all the signs of a man trying to protect himself from being hurt. From getting involved. Matthew respected that, but he couldn’t accept it. Not this time.

  Oliver hadn’t been prepared for the chemistry between them to ignite like that. Once the kiss started, he’d been as lost in it as Matthew was, his body demanding they take what they were feeling to its natural conclusion.

  That was enough for now.

  It would be up to him to convince Oliver that he wanted more than one night. A hell of a lot more.
His new mission was Operation Legs. As far as he was concerned, his fate had been sealed, and every minute he spent with Oliver only made things clearer in his mind.

  This was his guy. He knew it. The one.

  Matthew grinned. He’d thought it would be more of a struggle. He didn’t believe in love, right? He was the cynical member of his family. The sensible Finn.

  What a laugh.

  He was more like his brother than either of them knew. William had told Matthew he’d wanted to marry Bronte the second he laid eyes on her in the emergency room. That she’d been glaring at him in her dinosaur scrubs, and he’d known she was the right one for him. The only one.

  What was happening between him and Oliver wasn’t logical. It wasn’t even smart. The Finns would be fine with it, but would the Garcias? Maybe not after what Oliver had told him.

  You’re getting way ahead of yourself, man. You screwed up the date and he gave you a pass. That doesn’t mean you’ll ever meet his family. You might not even make it to breakfast.

  He had screwed up, but he would make things right and he would definitely make it to breakfast. All he needed to do was prove to Oliver that he wasn’t just experimenting.

  He was falling.

  Matthew pulled into his driveway and breathed a sigh of relief to see that Calamity’s car was gone. After that, all thoughts about his future narrowed to the amount of time it would take him to turn off the car and get inside the front door with Oliver in tow.

  Matthew needed this man in his bed.

  He grabbed the small sealed bottle Rory had given him and slid it into the pocket of his jeans before climbing out of the car.

  Oliver was at his side as soon as he closed the door and hopping up in his arms, clinging as Matthew forced himself to take those last few steps that stood between them and naked.

  “That drive took forever.”

  Matthew moaned in agreement against his mouth, barely getting the key turned in the lock before he’d kicked the door shut and was leaning back against it. “Lock it, Legs. The family’s big on unexpected interruptions.”

  “Mine too.” Oliver quickly reached around him for the deadbolt, kissing his neck on the way. “Please tell me your bedroom is close.”

  “Top of the stairs,” he managed and Oliver whimpered impatiently.

  By the time they got to his door, Matthew’s shirt was off, his jeans unbuttoned again. “Slow down, Legs.”

  “Quiero joder,” Oliver moaned in response, rubbing against him.

  Fuck, that was sexy.

  “You want something?” he asked as they walked into his room.

  He was suddenly thankful he’d splurged on the new bed, since the one he’d been making do with was too small for the athletics he had in mind.

  He lowered Oliver onto the king-sized mattress, one knee bent to follow him down. “Tell me what you want.”

  “To fuck,” Oliver said through swollen, bow-shaped lips, his eyes dark with need. “I want you naked. I want to ride you.”

  Matthew closed his eyes and blew out a shaky breath. Jesus. “Same here. We have so many things in common. Did you notice?”

  Straightening up, he slid off his shoes and stripped off his jeans with clumsy hands while Oliver showed off his flexibility, lifting his legs over his head to yank off his own pants.

  Talk about giving him ideas.

  Matthew tossed the bottle of lube and a condom from the bedside table onto the mattress next to Oliver before climbing back up to hover over him.

  “Look at you,” he breathed, taking in every flawless inch of golden skin. “I could stare at you for hours. I have.”

  “Less talking,” Oliver commanded. “More riding.”

  He launched a sneak attack, flipping them over so Matthew was the one on his back.

  Matthew laughed up at him. “Whatever you want, Legs.”

  Oliver paused, surprise getting through the haze. “You’re giving me the reins without argument? I was sure the member of a kink club would want to tie me up first.”

  Matthew narrowed his gaze. “We can get to that later. Right now, I don’t care who’s on top, as long as I get to be inside you.”

  “I like that about you.” He tore open the condom and reached down to grip Matthew’s cock. “You’re built where it counts, aren’t you?”

  Matthew’s laugh was a burst of shocked sound. How could he laugh when he was right on the edge? “Hop on and see for yourself.”

  “One more minute, Speedy.” Oliver opened the bottle of lube and coated the condom-covered erection before he reached back and readied himself.

  “You’re calling me Speedy? The one complaining that the stairs were taking too long?” Matthew’s fingers dug into his hips possessively. “I should be the one doing that. You don’t know how often I’ve imagined fucking you with my fingers.”

  Oliver shivered and licked his lips. “Yeah? That sounds good, but you’re right. I’m too impatient for that this time. We’ll play later.”

  Had he ever thought Oliver was shy? Thank God he was wrong.

  “Are you ready for this, Finn?”

  At his nod, Oliver lowered himself slowly onto Matthew’s cock and the world turned on its side again.

  “Fuck. Fuck.” It was almost too tight. A fist around him, bruising and perfect and hot and—“Fuck.”

  “I’m trying,” Oliver joked, closing his eyes and shuddering as he rocked another inch lower. “You’re a little more than I bargained for.”

  Foreplay is your friend.

  “First I’m not built, too cute, Disney—”

  “Stop,” Oliver laughed, his breathing heavy. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “I’d rather make you come. I’m ready to bargain right now. One more inch and I’ll give you my car. A kidney.”

  They both laughed again. Moaned. Oliver swayed against him, pausing so his body could adjust to Matthew’s invasion.

  “Oh God, you’re killing me, Legs.”

  “I think you’ll live. But if I’m too sore to teach the old men to mambo on Monday, I’m blaming it on you,” he panted, his hands caressing Matthew’s chest and stomach restlessly.

  “I can take it.” Matthew prayed for restraint, already slick with sweat and unable to look away from Oliver’s hard, bobbing shaft, or the sight of his own cock slowly disappearing inside his lover.

  Oliver was his.

  “As long as you promise not to stop, I’ll agree to anything. Fuck, I never thought a thing could feel too good.”

  “So you’re a convert?” Oliver asked with a gusty laugh, taking more of him.

  “I’ll let you know if I survive the next few seconds. I think we’re almost… Can you take more?”

  They both moaned loudly in relief with that final inch, their bodies joined completely.

  A feeling of rightness and completion swept over Matthew. He felt connected. He wanted to be.

  Mine.

  “Don’t move yet.”

  He had to memorize this feeling. Remember every detail of Oliver above him, those curls a wild halo around his exquisite face. There were teeth marks on his red lips and his eyelashes were damp with unshed tears.

  “Am I hurting you?” Matthew asked roughly. “Do you need more time?”

  Oliver shook his head, his hips slowly rolling in place, the firm cheeks of his ass brushing the tops of Matthew’s thighs deliciously. “No, but I need to move. If you want me to stop, you’ll have to make me.”

  Matthew wasn’t sure he could stop now if the house were on fire, not with Oliver massaging his cock in one hell of an erotic lap dance. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “Trade secret.”

  “Do it again,” Matthew growled.

  They fell into the perfect rhythm, their mad rush slowed by the tight fit and a need to savor.

  Matthew couldn’t stop touching him. Tracing the head of his cock, sliding his hands up his strong thighs, palming his ass. So different from anything he’d known before. So right.
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  Everything about Oliver felt right. He wanted to know everything about him. To learn his body by feel. By scent. He wanted to taste the cock that was flushed and full between them.

  He wanted everything.

  “I wore those shorts for you,” Oliver admitted, startling Matthew into meeting his gaze.

  “Not that first time,” he added quickly, his movements slowing with the confession. “That time I’d run out of clean laundry and had to borrow a pair of my cousin’s. My much younger cousin’s. But when you came in and I saw your reaction to how high they rode up on my—” He broke off, rocking against him with more force. “Matthew.”

  “You were torturing me on purpose?”

  You loved it.

  “I didn’t think it would take you that long for you to come over. That if you didn’t, it meant you weren’t interested.” He groaned in frustration. “God, you’ve been driving me crazy for days. You’re still driving me crazy. I think it’s your turn.”

  Matthew stiffened beneath him. “My turn for what?”

  “To ride me like you want to. I need it, Matthew.”

  Not waiting for another invitation, he had him on his back with his legs slung over Matthew’s shoulders before he could do more than gasp. “Is this okay? I’ve never been to a dance, remember? I don’t want to get the steps wrong.”

  Oliver nodded weakly, arching his back and shouting his approval as Matthew filled him with one forceful thrust.

  He got to his knees, hands on the back of Oliver’s thighs so he had the perfect view of his ass as he took him. “I was obsessed with this. With you, and you knew it. You’ve been teasing me for days. All those. Damn. Lunges.”

  “Yes! Matthew.”

  He couldn’t hold back. Something dark and possessive had taken over at the feel of Oliver beneath him. So deep. So fucking perfect.

  He slid his hand down to wrap a fist around the erection he couldn’t take his eyes off of. Oliver reacted to Matthew’s touch with a keening sound that nearly made him pop. It was electric and all-consuming and so much better than his dreams.

  This is everything.

  “Fuck, are you sure this is your first time?” Oliver asked, groaning.