by L. A. Witt
Guys like him don’t do things like this with guys like me.
Guys like him don’t do this.
Darren’s eyes darted toward his door. “You want to come inside? For… a drink?”
My heart sped up. “You actually feel like a drink right now?”
Darren held my gaze. Then he tightened his grasp on my belt loops. “Not really, no.”
“Then what….” I hesitated. “What do you feel like right now?”
“What do you think?”
I think I want you. I think you want me. I think… I think….
He spoke first: “Question.”
I lifted my eyebrows but didn’t say anything.
One corner of his mouth rose, and his eyes narrowed just right to fuck with my blood pressure all over again. “Door number one?” He nodded toward his apartment, then mine. “Or door number two?”
All the air in the hallway disappeared.
“Are you—” I cleared my throat just to get some air moving. “Are you serious?”
“You’d better believe it.”
And he kissed me again.
Chapter Three
THAT KISS ended in a rush of breath from both of us.
I touched my forehead to his. “Holy fuck.” My tight grip on the back of his neck was the only thing that kept my hand from shaking. “And here I thought you just wanted to get beers.”
“I did.” He brushed his lips against mine. “I changed my mind.”
“Me too.”
“Let’s go inside. My… my apartment. It’s”—his eyes darted between the doors—“closer.”
I drew back a little, meeting his eyes. “Not for drinks?”
Darren grinned. “Not for drinks.”
“Lead the way.”
He led the way. Into his apartment. Into his living room. Fuck, were we really doing this?
He flipped on the light, and we faced each other again. The smoldering hunger in his eyes matched—might have even surpassed—my own, and I was a heartbeat away from putting him over a stack of boxes or up against the wall again when he nodded toward the hallway. Wordlessly, without touching, we followed the short hall toward his bedroom.
I liked the way he worked: get in the house and go straight to the bedroom. Straight to business.
And the second we were in his bedroom, he was against me. And this time, I was against the wall. Kissing, grinding, grabbing….
Wait. Isn’t he a….
Do ministers do this?
Then his lips were on my neck and my hands were under his shirt, and apparently ministers did do this.
We stumbled toward his bed. Somewhere in the kissing and shuffling, our shirts disappeared; one second we were fully dressed, and the next his chest was hot against mine. Shoes came off, nearly tripping us, but somehow we both stayed upright.
My leg brushed his bed. I groaned and kissed him harder, the reality of what we were doing finally sinking in.
Darren pulled back. Panting, he looked around, brow furrowed like he was either confused or searching for something. Then, “Condoms. I don’t….” His gaze drifted over the stacks of boxes, most of which weren’t even open yet.
“I have some. Lube too. I can… I can go get them.”
Darren nodded. “Please do. We’re going to need them.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I kissed him quickly and then pried myself away from him. “Back in a minute.”
“I’ll be here.”
“You’d better be,” I growled and kissed him again. Of course that didn’t make it any easier to leave. The light kiss turned into a deeper one. Hands on each other’s shoulders, we weren’t quite pushing away, weren’t quite pulling closer.
Finally he shoved me back. “Go. Please.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Darren nodded, and I hurried out of his apartment, leaving his door open just a crack so it wouldn’t lock behind me. Then I moved quickly across the landing and unlocked my own door.
I could’ve sworn my apartment was tiny, about the size of a postage stamp, but it might as well have been as big as a city block right now. I could not get into my bedroom and back fast enough, damn it. The three strides across my cramped living room felt like they took hours, my cat glaring at me from the back of the couch the whole way.
Darren’s a minister. You know that, right?
In the bedroom, I jerked open the nightstand drawer so hard I almost toppled the whole thing.
Not someone you should be getting involved with, Seth.
I quickly righted the lamp and… eh, fuck it, the alarm clock could stay between the table and mattress. There were more important things to worry about, like that box of condoms and bottle of lube.
Ministers don’t do one-night stands.
I pulled out the box and the bottle, didn’t bother shutting the drawer, and hurried back across the hall to Darren’s apartment. Funny, his place seemed huge too, the living room getting wider with every step I took.
You really think this is a good idea? He’s a—
When I stepped into his bedroom, Darren had already stripped off the rest of his clothes and was waiting for me on the bed. Gloriously naked. One hand behind his head, the other stroking his very erect and very impressive cock. And he grinned at me like “Well, aren’t you going to do something about this?”
Yeah. Don’t care what he is. Sex. Now.
I set the condoms and lube on his nightstand, and as I joined him on the bed, he grabbed my belt and pulled me down on top of him.
“Thought you said you weren’t usually this aggressive,” I murmured against his lips.
“I can be. Sometimes. When I want something.” His hand drifted down my side, his light touch making me shiver. “Don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that. Please, carry on.”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
He nudged my hip, so I lifted up a little. His hand slid between us, and when it pressed against the crotch of my jeans, I let my head fall beside his. He laughed and pressed a little harder. “Like that?”
“Uh-huh. God….”
He moved his other hand, and I raised my hips to give him more room as his fingers found their way to my belt. Resting my weight on one arm, I pulled down my zipper while he unbuckled my belt, and once all of those contraptions were out of the way, Darren slid my jeans and boxers over my hips.
Between the two of us, getting my clothes off should have been easier—faster, anyway—but I couldn’t concentrate on even the simplest task while he was kissing me like that. Or stroking my cock when my boxers were just far enough out of the way. Or guiding my hand to his own cock so neither of us had any hands free for disrobing.
Darren pushed my jeans farther down and then dipped his head and kissed my neck, brushing my collarbone with his beard.
“Should we… are you….” I’d nearly found the ability to speak again but promptly lost it when Darren nipped my neck. “Fuck….”
He squeezed my cock and stroked a little faster. “Should we what?”
“Isn’t there something… rules about you doing stuff like… stuff like… oh God….” I thrust into his tight fist even as I tried to speak. “Ministers… aren’t you guys supposed….”
“Seth.”
“Hmm?”
“Shut up.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re killing the mood.” And then his mouth was over mine, and his hand was moving fucking perfectly, and to hell with whatever I thought I gave a damn about, because fuck.
I kept stroking him too, and for the longest time, we just made out and teased each other. Breathing hard. Kissing harder.
“Guess now would… now would be a good time to ask,” he said between kisses, “if you’re a top or a bottom?”
“I’m whatever means we’re fucking in the next sixty seconds.”
Darren groaned and kissed me again. I stroked him faster; I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been this tu
rned on, and though it took all the restraint I had—not to mention the promise of what was coming—I broke away from him so I could get a condom. He started to protest but must have figured out what I was doing, because he let me lean toward the nightstand.
I pulled a condom off the strip, but before I could rip the wrapper open, Darren took it from me. He tore it with his teeth. He tossed the wrapper to the side and grinned at me. I thought he might say something witty, or just roll on the condom and be done with it, but instead he reached for me with his other hand, grabbed the back of my neck—Jesus Christ, but he was fucking aggressive—and kissed me.
His kiss was both hot and frustrating. He was an amazing kisser, but I also wanted to turn around, get on my hands and knees, and take everything he—
His other hand was on my cock. Then the smooth, vaguely cool condom. I broke the kiss enough to murmur “Oh God…” as Darren rolled the condom onto me.
“In case you hadn’t gathered,” he said, “I like tops.”
Oh. God.
“Then you might want to get the lube and turn around,” I growled.
Darren shuddered. He reached for the lube, and after he’d poured some onto his hand, he stroked my cock, squeezing through the condom.
“Turn around,” I said. “Fuck, man, turn around, I need… I need to….”
He silenced me with a kiss, and I whimpered against his lips as he kept stroking me, and just about the time I didn’t think I could last another second, he broke the kiss and grinned, and we changed positions.
I was horny beyond words, but as I knelt behind him, I stopped. Stopped and just looked. My tattoo artist’s brain would usually see a myriad of designs that could be drawn on that pristine, untouched flesh, but all I could see now were solid muscles and angular planes, broad shoulders and narrow hips.
“Seth,” he murmured over his shoulder.
“Patience,” I said with a grin. I put some lube on my fingers, rested a hand on the small of his back, and let my other hand drift over his hip and between his cheeks. When I pressed in gently with a fingertip, he didn’t resist, and took one finger, then two, with minimal pressure.
I slid them deeper. “Like that?”
Groaning softly, he nodded.
I separated my fingers, stretching him carefully, and he leaned back against me. I stilled my hand and he moved faster, as if to make up for my lack of motion. He rocked back and forth, letting my fingers slide in and out at his own speed. I dug my teeth into my lower lip, barely even letting myself breathe because I was afraid I’d come from this alone. From nothing more than watching Darren fucking himself on my fingers.
“Seth, please….” He shuddered, his back arching and his shoulders trembling.
“Getting impatient, are we?” I gritted my teeth to hide my own anticipation.
“Yes.” He let his head fall forward. “Please.”
“Hmm, well, you did ask nicely.” I rested my hand on his hip, and as I pressed my cock against him, we both moaned.
“I’m not going to move,” I said. “You decide how fast, and—” I cut myself off with a gasp as he leaned back against me, and a second later the head of my cock was inside him. Another forward-back motion and I was almost completely buried in him. “Fuck,” I whispered. “Holy fuck….”
He rocked back and forth just right, and I was as mesmerized by the sight of him—all shaking and tension and motion—as I was by the sensation of sliding in and out of him.
When he threw his head back and sounded like he almost swore, I couldn’t stand another second. I leaned down, resting my hands beside his on the bed. My body weight kept him in place, exactly where I wanted him, and left him with no choice but to take it as I thrust from the hips. Darren turned his head, reached back, and grasped my hair, pulling me into another kiss.
His kiss turned me on almost as much as fucking him did. Everything about him turned me on, and how I’d lasted this long at all mystified me.
Then Darren broke the kiss and let his head fall forward again, and the low groan just about put me over the edge.
I sat up. Grabbed his hips. Fucked him. Fucked him hard.
“Holy fuck!” I roared and forced myself as deep inside him as I could go. I came hard, my whole body shaking from that powerful orgasm, and I might have even blacked out for a second or two. God damn.
When my vision cleared and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t pass out, I steadied myself with a hand on his hip and withdrew. Panting and shaking, I tapped his hip. “Get… on your back.”
I took off the condom while he changed position. After I threw it away, Darren reached for me, but I gently pushed his hand aside and went down on him.
The second my mouth was on his cock, he inhaled sharply. His fingers combed through my hair, and he muttered something that sounded like he was trying really, really hard not to curse. He groaned and tried to push a little deeper into my mouth.
I nudged his thighs apart with my hand. He obediently spread his legs, and gasped as I ran my hand up his inner thigh. When I slid two fingers inside him, his back lifted off the bed.
“Oh… wow….” His whole body trembled. “That’s….” His voice trailed off into a whimper. The more I sucked his cock and fucked him with my fingers, the fewer actual words he formed, until he was just moaning.
He gripped my hair tighter. His whole body tensed and his cock stiffened in my mouth a second before he came on my tongue. I kept stroking him inside and out, teasing him until he pushed my head away. Then I let him go and slowly withdrew my fingers.
“Whoa….” He shuddered back down to the mattress.
“You’re welcome,” I said with a grin.
I’d barely gotten to my knees before Darren reached up and grabbed me. He dragged me down into a demanding kiss, forcing my lips apart with his tongue. Some guys didn’t like kissing after a blow job, but it obviously didn’t bother Darren in the slightest. From the way he held on to my hair and my neck and the way he moaned softly into my kiss, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he had us both turned on and ready to go again before too long.
Eventually, though, we separated and collapsed onto the bed.
“Fuck….” I wiped some sweat off my forehead. “That was fucking amaz—” I cut myself off and gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry. I, um, hope you don’t mind all the cursing.”
Darren snorted. “I didn’t even notice it, to be honest.”
“Oh. Good. Because there was a lot of it.”
He chuckled and scrubbed a hand over his face, disheveling some of his hair in the process. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I turned onto my side and propped myself up on one elbow. “So I thought guys in your line of work weren’t supposed to… you know….”
“Be gay?” He grinned. “Or have sex?”
“Well, both.” I rested my free hand on his chest. “Or have gay sex, for that matter.”
He put his hand over mine. “That’s up for debate. But I also wear mixed fibers and have a slight addiction to steamed mussels, so….”
“So you’re a rebellious minister, then.”
He laughed, running his hand up and down my arm. “Not quite. I just think some of what’s in the Bible is meant to be taken literally, and some of it’s a parable. And a lot has been misinterpreted. I can’t say I know any better than the next guy which is which, but I try.”
“Wow. I guess I just never put ministers and casual sex in the same sentence.”
“It’s not usually how I do things.” Mirroring me, he turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “But I’m not feeling terribly guilty about it.”
I grinned. “Neither am I, but then, I’m an atheist. No conscience and all of that.”
Darren laughed again. “Uh-huh. I’m sure.” He put a hand on my chest and drew ticklish circles with his middle finger. “I’m not a priest. We’re allowed. The minister at my last church had seven kids, so I’m pretty sure he wasn’t celibate either.”
&n
bsp; “Married, though, right?”
“He can legally get married. I can’t.” Darren shrugged. “And for the record, seven months after his twentieth wedding anniversary, his oldest daughter turned twenty.” His eyes narrowed, and that lopsided grin made my pulse go wild. “So I’m pretty sure I’m not the only man of the cloth who’s rather enamored of”—he trailed a fingertip down the center of my chest, drawing a few soft curses out of me—“temptations of the flesh.”
“Is that right?”
“Yep.”
I mirrored his gesture, drawing a finger down his chest, but I kept going. “So how much temptation”—I followed the thin line of dark hair below his navel, grinning when he gasped—“can your flesh handle tonight?”
Darren bit his lip. “I can take whatever you’ve got.”
“Hmm.” I kissed him. “Challenge accepted.”
Chapter Four
DAYLIGHT WAS a bitch. My head wasn’t pounding, fortunately, but I could have done with a few more hours of blissfully enjoying all the aches and pains from last night without the hefty dose of unfamiliar guilt that accompanied the rising sun. Apparently all it took was a few sunbeams to crack open the What the fuck did I just do? and the This could get awkward.
But it was just a one-night stand. What the hell? This kind of thing never bothered me. Okay, so he was my neighbor, which meant it would be impossible to avoid each other even if we wanted to, so sleeping with him was about as smart as fucking a roommate. So the awkwardness wasn’t terribly surprising, but the guilt was… new.
Whatever the reason, that guilty, unsettled feeling had burrowed its way under my skin, and I braced for that moment when Darren and I made morning-after eye contact for the first time.
As I rolled over and we looked at each other, naked and disheveled in the morning light, all that guilt came crashing down in full force. If fucking up was tequila, this was the hangover, pounding home the realization that last night? Yeah. I done fucked up.