I tried to make my stomach as concave as possible to give him all the room he needed. A brush of his knuckles, then his fingers were on the head of my straining dick. His thumb stroked me, rubbing under and across the head, then he gave the shaft a few tugs. I was already hard and he dragged me up to full-on stiff and ready. With the strength in my legs compromised by lack of blood flow, I staggered a step toward the bed. His arm around my waist stopped me when I went to sit. There was that grin again as he hauled my jeans down, followed by my boxers with a lot less care than I would have used getting the elastic over my dick.
I hissed, and he didn’t offer an apology as he pushed me back on the bed. But since his next action was to kneel between my legs, I decided to let him make it up to me by kissing it better.
People who say there’s no such thing as a bad blow job have never had one bad enough. Teeth hurt and having someone gag to the point of running to heave is not sexy. We all have to start somewhere though, so despite my apprehension, I stayed still and silent as Wyatt held my dick at the base and lowered his mouth to the head. The first touch was tentative, like he was worried about the taste.
“You don’t have to—”
He stopped me with a glare. I snapped my jaw shut and leaned back on my elbows.
The next attempt was wet and hot and I sank into the sensation of his mouth on me. He went deeper, coughed and scraped me with his teeth as he backed off.
I bit my tongue to stay quiet.
He took a different approach on his third try, kissing the head, using his tongue like he was sliding into my mouth and damn, that would work. It was messy, the pressure erratic, but it still felt good. Then his hair brushed my thigh, rubbed silkily over my balls and I remembered whose mouth it was. It was Wyatt with his pouty lips and prickly attitude and suddenly it was better than good. I looked down, saw that white streak of hair from his forehead and had to pin my hips to keep from fucking into his mouth.
“Yeah,” I breathed the word softly and hoped he wouldn’t stop because I’d broken his rule.
Instead, it made him go harder. He got his hand involved, timing it with the movement of his mouth and things started to approach the point of no return.
“God. Jesus. Wyatt.” I fell all the way back, neck crooked against the wall and slipped a hand through his hair.
The head of my dick hit the back of his throat, slick hard pressure, plus the draw from him sucking pushed me too high. I yanked on his hair. “Wyatt. Stop. I’ll come.”
He pulled off my cock and gave me that smile. Knowing how it felt to make a guy all crazy like that, I smiled back and pushed his hair off his face. He slid his closed mouth back and forth over the slit. He’d come a long way from not being sure if he liked the taste to using my precome as lip balm.
I opened my mouth to tell him that, then shut it. My good behavior was rewarded when he slipped off his jeans and boxer briefs and joined me on the bed. I got him lubed and ready with him on his knees like I had the last time, but when I pulled at him to turn him over he wouldn’t go.
I condensed it into as few words as possible and whispered them in his right ear. “Angle’s better. Plus kissing.”
He shook his head against the pillow.
I wanted to watch his face, to have something to go on besides the way he moved his shoulders. But he was the one offering up his body for us to share space in, and that gave him the right to decide how he wanted to feel it.
I slicked my cock with lube and knee-walked close to his ass. It was a much trickier angle. I ended up having to brace a foot on the mattress to get the leverage I needed to go in and I knew it wasn’t right.
He was too tight. All of him. Shoulders, thighs, breath, ass. All of it telling me to back off. So I did.
He broke his silence. “Do it. Please.”
I was the one who didn’t answer. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to put my cock in him. And there were lots of things I could say. Trying. Relax. Gimme a sec. But all of those things sounded stupid in my head and if he’d said then to me, they’d piss me off, so I just rested my dick against his hole. Concentrating on the way the muscle twitched, I waited for it to relax. The tension eased and I pushed.
He groaned.
I wondered if I’d ever get used to the way those sounds echoed through my dick when I was in him. I tilted my hips for a bit more thrust and sank in right down to my balls. He shuddered, or maybe I did. It was hard to tell who started it.
I moved his thighs a bit wider, and that gave me the angle I needed to press in without my foot braced. He rocked on me, grinding his ass against my pubes so I figured we were good to go. I grabbed his hips and started fucking. The sound he made, a sharp whine in his breath every time I drove in, made my balls tight and my chest loose. He slammed back to meet me and my ribs spread open, the space so big I could wrap myself all around him and store him inside. Safe. Mine.
One of my hands was in his hair before I realized what I was doing.
I pulled on his hair and the sound he made wasn’t like any complaint I’d ever heard so I did it again, first twisting his head, then using my other hand under his chest to lift him up and over my thighs, so he was practically in my lap, suspended on my dick.
“Oh, fuck.” He breathed it out, slowing for a minute, his muscles shifting, grabbing at my dick in a brand-new set of ways. I held on to him so I could hold myself back from going at him like a jackhammer. He shifted again, and my teeth sank into his shoulder as I fought back a scream. So much sensation, from the slam of my heart in my chest to the ache in my balls and the hot, slick texture all around my dick.
The need to fuck hammered through me. It burned in my thighs and my hips and my dick, but I sucked up a hickey on his neck and waited. He rocked, and I drove up. His body reacted, his breath pushed out of his body by my cock. It drove me higher, drunk on sex. With Wyatt.
The way he let me in when he worked so hard to lock everyone else out made me hyperaware, craving proof that I was making it worth it for him.
We worked together, and I kissed his neck, licked the bruise I’d made with my teeth as he grabbed his dick and started to jerk off. I put my lube-slick hand over his and he sighed. I looked over his shoulder to see him slide through our fists, the pump of my hips forcing his cock forward.
My whole body flooded with heat, spiking up with every desperate sound he made. I loved holding him like this, feeling him pulse around me, but it wasn’t enough, and I had to...
“Fuck. Sorry.” I whispered it in his ear and drove us both forward, fucked him into the mattress with hard quick jabs of my dick. I arched above him, pinning him with hands on his wrist and shoulder.
His ass humped up into me, his hand sounding fast and rough on his cock over the slap of my balls on his ass.
A sound vibrated between us, something between a growl and a whine, and I felt him come. Not his jizz, but his ass sucking me in and locking down on me, his body jerking through the spasms as he shot.
Now, now, I told my body, but I couldn’t quite find it.
He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and I started to ease back. My dick plowing his ass probably didn’t feel all that good now that he’d come.
He reached back for my thigh. “Finish in me.” He stretched both hands in front of him.
I locked my fingers with his and started pumping again. Nosing his hair off his neck, I buried my face in his sweat and his skin as the climb started again.
I couldn’t help the words spilling from my lips. Maybe he wouldn’t hear me. “Good. So good. God, you feel good on me, Wyatt.”
Then I was there, my balls tight, pouring out through my dick, body helpless through the spasms of pleasure as I shot deep inside him. The aftershocks bounced along my nerves, forcing another grunt from my mouth and a jerk of my hips. When my dick couldn’t pump anymore, I slumped on top of him.
My body was so heavy I wasn’t sure I could move it, but Wyatt twisted and half shifted me off and into the wall. I wan
ted to stay awake and make sure he didn’t take off again, but it was going to have to wait a few minutes.
I wasn’t sure if I imagined him saying, “Poor, Ethan, your brain really is connected to your balls, isn’t it?”
I’d have made some sarcastic remark about how he didn’t know what “no talking meant,” but I was passed out.
I don’t think I was out for long when my text alert woke me up. Wyatt was still in my bed and—the back of my neck burned against the cold wall—my dick was still inside him.
“Sorry.” I whispered and tried to gently shift out of him.
He pulled his hips away, but his back still pressed into my chest. “Does that happen every time? You fall asleep after you come?”
“Only when I fuck you.” I said it without thinking and then snapped my teeth together to keep anything else stupid locked up.
The text alert went off again.
“Gonna get that?”
At least Wyatt didn’t comment on my admission.
“No.” The world could fuck off. My special one and everyone else’s. But I did sit up enough to find the towel under my bed and wipe the come and lube off both of us. Well, I started to wipe at Wyatt and he yanked the towel away from me, finishing himself. He looked around with the towel in his hand.
“Throw it anywhere.”
He did, then frowned.
I thought of his weird mood when he’d come in. “Everything okay?”
“Fine, Ethan.” He said my name like a curse, jaw pointing at me.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” He looked down. “But—I—uh—I feel kind of gross.”
“Oh.” Then I got what he was saying. “Oh.”
I climbed over him to get to the floor and grabbed my robe from the hook in my closet. “Here.”
“Thanks. Be right back.”
After the door shut behind him, I grabbed my jeans off the floor and found my phone.
Makayla had sent me two texts.
At party. Heard soccer team lost. 4-0.
Ouch.
If you’re still interested, he’s prolly super needy and desperate.
Thanks a fucking lot. I sent back.
She responded with an emoji of pinched eyes and a tongue sticking out.
I rolled my eyes and shut off the sound.
I’m sure Blake was super needy. He’d never had a game that bad in high school. But what he needed was no longer my problem. I had a feeling Wyatt, who would probably die rather than admit it, needed me more.
At least Makayla hadn’t been around to hear what Wyatt had needed half an hour ago.
I spread a towel from my laundry over the wet spot so no one would skid off the bed, and dropped the phone on top of the crate that doubled as a nightstand.
Wyatt came back in and stood hesitantly near my closet. “What should I do with—”
“Lock the door and get in bed.”
He stared at me for a second, then dropped the robe and flipped off the lights. I still wasn’t sure if he was going to grab his clothes and go until he put his knee on the mattress. I scooted against the wall to make room for him.
His skin was damp and I wrapped myself around him.
He shivered a little. “I don’t know if I can do anything right now.”
A quick laugh slipped out. “I sure as hell can’t.”
“So what do you want?”
I furrowed my brow. What did he think I wanted? To hold him. Kiss him. Talk a little and find out what life had been like in Van, West Virginia, population two hundred if you include the raccoons. I rubbed my face against his shoulder to get some of his hair off my eyes and mouth.
“What’s your world like?”
He shifted around to face me. “What the fuck does that mean?” He didn’t sound mad, just confused.
“You said things are simple in my world. So what’s it like in your world?”
“It sucks.” He didn’t look at me.
“Why?”
Now he stared back and I had to admit I got why he kept one eye covered. It was unnerving in the dark, that one eye picking up a bit more light. I held his gaze.
“So what, I tell you and you fix it for me? Not going to happen,” he said at last.
I wondered which part wasn’t going to happen more.
“Were people assholes to you because of your...eyes?” The medical name sounded too harsh to use then. Like it was something wrong with him. But I’d looked it up. It wasn’t a disease, only genetics.
“Just a bit, yeah.”
“Sorry.”
“Well, now I’m all better. Thanks, Ethan. You fixed it.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Fuck you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay. What do you like to talk about? What’s your major?”
He dropped onto his back. “Jesus, just fuck me again.”
I started to snap back, Maybe he could, but I can’t right now, but I didn’t get any further than Mmm before he kissed me. And my dick wasn’t ready to play but damn, I loved the way Wyatt kissed.
He drew back. “Engineering.”
The word whispered right next to my lips like something perfectly dirty except it wasn’t. I wondered if maybe I was the one with static in my ear. “Huh?”
“My major.”
“Oh.”
The light from under the door was just enough to pick up his smile. “What’s yours?”
“Um—I’m not sure. I thought about teaching elementary school.”
He shook his head like that was the dumbest idea he’d heard.
“What? For all you know I’m great with kids.”
“Are you?” he challenged.
I honestly had no idea. I didn’t have any siblings. Cousins at family events were annoying but that was family. “I could be.”
He laughed, then rested his forehead against mine. “I think you should go pre-law. You’re certainly good at arguing that things should be your way.”
This was that Ethan’s Special World thing again. I was trying hard to not be all defensive but Wyatt didn’t make it easy. “What does that mean?”
“It’s not always a bad thing.” He must have been talking to Makayla.
“It’s not like I showed up at your room asking to fuck.”
He rolled away. “I should go.”
I should let him go back and deal with a roommate who would be moping and miserable. But I didn’t. “I don’t recommend it.” I reached over him to grab my phone, swiped it open and enlarged Makayla’s text. Not the one about needy Blake, the one about the loss and handed it to Wyatt.
“Shit. This was supposed to be an easy game. He talks enough after a win.” He dropped the phone between us. “And that’s exactly what I mean.”
I might not have been a fine arts major but I knew a metaphor when I saw one. I also knew it would be hard to argue a negative, to convince him I wasn’t interested in Blake anymore. I’d argue the positive. I grabbed his head and kissed him. He kissed me back, the way he always did, all out. Tongue, lips, him. Nothing distracted or impatient. Like he’d be willing to stroke his tongue against mine, to share breath with me all night.
Things below the belt were starting to come back on line, a buzz in my balls, a just-on-the-sweet-side-of-painful pulse in my dick. His hand slid down my back and dragged me closer.
The pound of a fist on my door jerked us apart.
“Ethan. C’mon. Stop being a dick and talk to me.” It was Blake.
Chapter 12
I shook my head at Wyatt, found his right ear and whispered. “I blocked him on my phone, I swear to God.”
Wyatt just lay there, watching me. I needed him to believe me.
“He did text me, that night you came by on your work break, but I never met him. I blocked him that night.”
Wyatt stared. I hoped like hell he could read the truth in my face. Finally, he gave me a tight nod.
Blake pounded again. “If you’re in t
here, Ethan, you better know I’m going to sit out here all night. One way or another you’re going to have to talk to me.”
“Fucking asshole. I’ll get rid of him.” I muttered, then I dragged myself off the bed and hauled on my discarded jeans. My semi-interested dick had shrunk during the interruption. That more than anything should have told Wyatt how I felt about Blake. Even without standing at attention, my dick was still sensitive enough to protest being stuffed into jeans.
As I approached the door, I thought about shutting it behind me, but I decided to leave it open. I wanted Wyatt to hear everything I said.
I opened the door a crack. Blake scrambled up. The bastard had been sitting outside the door.
“I knew you were in there.”
Right because what else would I be doing on a Friday? “What do you want?”
He tipped his head down, and a wave of his perfect auburn hair fell on his forehead. He looked up at me through his lashes. “I blew the game tonight. Maybe the whole season. I was a fucking sieve on the line.”
“Sorry.” I did feel sorry for him. I knew I wasn’t in love with him anymore, but I’d probably always feel something for him and I knew this was hard for him.
“Can I come in?” He stepped forward like my answer was a given.
“No.”
“C’mon. I’ve apologized a bunch of times. You even blocked my calls. Isn’t that enough punishment?”
“That’s not what this is. It’s just...over.”
“So you’re with someone else now?”
Okay. Maybe leaving the door open so Wyatt could hear was a bad idea. I didn’t know exactly how to answer that. I didn’t know what was going on between me and Wyatt. I knew I wanted to keep seeing him, but I didn’t know how he would take it if I said I was dating him.
I fell back on the clichéd truth. “It’s complicated.” Was that an understatement or what?
“Ethe.” Blake reached for my jaw, and I jerked back.
There was real hurt in his eyes and I was sorry for it. He put both his hands on top of his head and interlaced them. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” He slid his hands onto his neck and finally dropped them to his sides.
“Thank you.”
Getting Him Back Page 10