by A. E. Wasp
Bryce raised one eyebrow and grinned. “So, tell me why giving a blowjob is the litmus test for gayness.”
Watching Bryce’s mouth say blowjob did things for Dakota. “Enjoying a blowjob from a guy doesn’t prove much. Blowjobs feel good from anyone. But if you enjoy giving them, and you’re not a woman, that generally means you’re not one hundred percent straight.”
“What about,” Bryce looked around to make sure he wouldn’t be overheard. He dropped his voice, “What about sex? Like, real sex?”
“There’s no such thing as fake sex unless you’re watching porn. It’s all real.” Dakota assured him. “But I’m assuming you mean anal sex?”
For the first time, Bryce looked like he was in a little over his head. He turned away, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I mean, if you like that...”
Dakota moved closer until he could feel the heat coming off Bryce. “Plenty of straight guys like getting pegged by their girlfriends. And plenty of gay men never have anal sex. It’s not mandatory. Some guys just top. I’m telling you, blowjobs. If you’re going to be gay, you’ve gotta suck a dick.” He watched for Bryce’s reaction to the crude language.
Bryce swallowed, ran his hands through his hair again, then reached out and touched Dakota’s hip. “Yeah?” His fingers curled briefly around Dakota, then pulled back. “Sorry.”
Dakota wanted that warmth back sooner rather than later. The idea of being this sex god’s first anything was burning through his veins. He hadn’t known he had a thing for virgins until right now. He’d never been anyone’s first anything before.
“Let’s back it up.” Dakota circled his finger. “Have you ever kissed a guy?
“No.” His eyes dropped to Dakota’s mouth again, and he licked his lips.
Oh, God. They might not make it to blowjobs, but Dakota was going to be this guy’s first kiss come hell or high water. “How old are you? Thirty?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Wow. Sweet thirty-four and never been kissed.”
“Shut up,” Bryce said with a laugh. “Um, how old are you?”
“I’m twenty-four. But enough about me.” Dakota opened the hatch on the SUV and threw the tools loosely in the back. Dakota took a step closer. “So, do you want to try a kiss?”
“Right now? Right here? With you?”
“Unless you want to go straight to the blowjob.” Oh, shit. Dakota hadn’t meant to say that. Not consciously. But now his body was saying fuck yeah.
Bryce didn’t punch him. If anything, he looked aroused.
This whole situation was seriously unexpected, but so tempting. Dakota wasn’t the anonymous hookup type. He wasn’t the dating type either; past performance indicated he was a crap judge of character. Maybe it was a time for a change. But starting with blowjobs was a little too full steam ahead. “Sorry. Bad joke.”
He started to step back, and Bryce grabbed him. They both looked at where Bryce’s hand wrapped three-quarters of the way around Dakota’s bicep. “Or not,” he said. His free hand grabbed onto Bryce’s shoulder, and he pushed up onto his tiptoes.
Bryce’s head tilted down.
Chapter Seven
BRYCE
Bryce’s mouth went dry. You gotta suck a dick. Bryce felt like he should be put off by the crude language. He’d never liked it when the guys talked that way about their girlfriends. They’d called him the Preacher on one of his first teams over it, but it seemed disrespectful to their girlfriends and women in general.
And yet, hearing Dakota say those rough words made his dick twitch. The taboo of it all, the energy of it that was so different from anything he’d felt with a woman. So when he got the chance to kiss the guy, he went for it.
The kiss was awkward, as most first kisses were, in Bryce’s experience. No more than a dry press of closed lips, but it still made those butterflies in Bryce’s stomach flitter around. He was kissing a man in the middle of the day in the middle of the street where anyone could see him.
It didn’t matter. Nothing that happened here mattered. Colorado wasn’t home, but Seattle had never felt like home even after four years. He wasn’t quite off the team but he wasn’t quite on it, either.
Right now he hung suspended in a liminal space where he could do whatever he wanted, be whoever he wanted, with no repercussions.
It was amazing.
Trying to get closer to Dakota, Bryce shifted in just the wrong way and his bad knee buckled. Mouth opening on a gasp of pain, he grabbed onto Dakota for support, sliding one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders.
Dakota moaned as their bodies collided, and he slid his tongue across Bryce’s lips.
With that touch, the kiss changed into something hot and wet that had Bryce placing a hand on the back of Dakota’s head to keep him from pulling away. Bryce burrowed his hand around Dakota’s waist, desperate for skin.
Dakota moaned again into Bryce’s mouth.
Dakota turned them, careful of Bryce’s knee, and they ended up with Bryce’s back pressed against the 4Runner for support. He couldn’t stop caressing Dakota, mesmerized by the feel of a male body under his hands. How tall he was, how firm, and most amazing of all, the feel of his mouth.
Dakota’s mouth moved down Bryce’s neck, teeth pulling gently at his beard as he searched for smooth skin. Bryce tilted his chin, giving Dakota better access.
Dakota latched onto to a spot where the curve of Bryce’s neck met his shoulder. He pressed his hand under Bryce’s jaw, holding his head up and out of the way, as he bit and sucked his way across the skin.
“Fuck,” Bryce moaned. It was nothing like being kissed by a woman. The strength and the force of Dakota’s mouth and hands unleashed something in Bryce that he had always reined in. He had to be so careful with women not to hurt them, not to bruise. He wanted to bruise Dakota, wanted Dakota to mark him up.
He dug his fingers into Dakota’s hips, thumbs pressing into the divots below his hip bones, fingers almost meeting behind his back just the way Bryce had pictured.
Bryce moaned and yanked Dakota’s hand away from his chin. He grabbed Dakota’s head with both hands, slamming their mouths together.
Dakota thrust his tongue deep into Bryce’s mouth, and Bryce sucked on it like it was made of candy.
The whirr and growl of cars speeding past them not ten feet away merged with the buzz in Bryce’s ears.
His cock was hard, and he shifted, desperate for some friction. Dakota knew what he needed, shoving his thigh between Bryce’s legs to give Bryce something to rub against. Bryce groaned.
“Ready to move on to that blowjob now?” Dakota asked in a low growl. His hand slid down to grab Bryce’s rock hard cock. “Though, fuck, I’d like to get my mouth around that.”
By this point, Bryce was at least ninety percent sure he was gay. Though, if he was honest, none of the kisses he’d ever shared with girls had felt half as good as kissing Dakota. But still. “It’s the only way to be sure, right? But here?”
“You’d do that?” Dakota said breathlessly. He couldn’t stop touching Bryce, sliding his palms up under Bryce’s shirt and groaning quietly as he dragged his fingers down the ripples of his abs. “Your fucking body is incredible.” He rubbed his thigh harder against Bryce’s cock. “You’d drop to your knees right here for me?”
Bryce groaned at the mental image. He knew he had an exhibitionist streak; how could he not, growing up in the public eye? The fantasy of sucking Dakota off while the drivers zoomed by, eyes wide and stunned, weakened his knees. His knee, damn it. “My knee. I can’t. Or I swear to God I would.”
Dakota pulled back, eyes dark, and ran the back of his hand over his mouth. He swept the area with a glance. “Come on,” he said, tugging at Bryce’s shirt.
The shoulder of the road they had pulled off on was adjacent to the driveway of a semicircle of resort cabins that were closed for the season. Bryce followed Dakota as he headed toward the ones furthest from the road.
Dako
ta went from door to door, pulling at the padlocks, testing each one for weakness. Finding one that jiggled under his tugging, he smiled and started prying the metal hasp out of the wall of the cabin.
“What are you doing?” Bryce asked, moving to block Dakota from the view of any passing cars. Why did Bryce keep asking questions he already knew the answer to?
Screw indecent exposure, Bryce was going to get arrested for breaking and entering on his third day in Colorado. He hobbled over to Dakota. “You can’t do that!” he said, lowering his voice.
Dakota pried the hasp out of the soft wood. “I’ll fix it later, I promise.” He grabbed Bryce’s shirt and tugged him in for a kiss. Okay, Bryce was on board with the plan.
After one last quick scan to see if anyone had noticed their illegal activity, he followed Dakota through the door.
Inside the room, wooden shutters blocked out the sun, and Bryce couldn’t see anything. He shivered in the cold of the sunless room that smelled of Lysol and mothballs.
Using his phone as a flashlight, Dakota picked his way carefully across the small room. A naked mattress and uncovered pillows sat on an old metal bed frame pushed up against a wall of the one-room cabin. Not luxury accommodations for sure, but Bryce wasn’t feeling too picky.
The whole thing felt like a dream. Everything from his tire blowing out to Dakota’s breaking into a cabin was so far from Bryce’s normal life he could barely process it.
The life he’d created for himself was starting to unravel. People, places, career, and now it seemed, his very identity blown away. The future loomed like a blank slate, terrifying and breathtaking in its implication.
Bryce’s knee injury had never been as frustrating as it was now. He wanted to push Dakota down onto the bare mattress and cover him with his body, but he didn’t think he’d be able to get back up again if he did.
“Lie down,” Dakota said, taking the decision out of Bryce’s hands.
The old metal springs squeaked as Bryce lowered himself carefully to the bed. Cold seeped through the thin mattress. He would ride this ride to the end and leave the worrying for another day.
Dakota shoved a pillow under Bryce’s head, and one under his knee, then climbed on the bed. He stopped with one knee on the mattress and one hand on Bryce’s chest. “Still okay?”
Tight beams of light leaked around the edges of the shutters, turning Dakota into a light gray shape against the darkness. He smelled like sweat and leather. The hand on Bryce’s chest smelled like gasoline and rubber from changing the blown-out tire, and Bryce wanted to put his tongue on the fingerptips and taste the sharp flavor.
He laid his hand over Dakota’s. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Giving into the impulse, he pulled Dakota’s hand to his mouth, kissing the palm first, then the fingertips, nipping gently at the calloused flesh.
Dakota breathed heavily next to him, the sound loud in the silent room. He grunted softly, then curled his hand around Bryce’s jaw, thumb rubbing gently over Bryce’s lips.
He spread Bryce’s legs and knelt between them, resting a hand on his inner thigh, right above the top of the brace. Dakota dragged his hand slowly up from the top of his brace, caressing the muscle. His thumb traced the crease of his thigh.
The barely-there touch went straight to Bryce’s cock. He whimpered, and Dakota pressed more firmly. The warmth of Dakota’s hand seeped through his jeans, and he wished he could see the expression in Dakota’s eyes.
“Knee okay?” Dakota asked.
Some emotion he couldn’t name caught in the back of Bryce’s throat, and fine tremors ran down his body. Something about the still darkness had transmuted their frantic, sunlit grinding into this quiet, gentle touching. “Fine,” he croaked, mouth dry. He licked his lips. “Kiss me?”
Dakota lay carefully on top of him, pressing them together from chest to groin. Bryce spread his legs, and Dakota nestled between them.
Propping himself up with one arm braced on Bryce’s chest, he combed a hand through Bryce’s hair. “I gotta say, the long hair really works for you.” Dakota smiled. “And the beard. Very mountain man. You’ll have to get some plaid shirts.”
“I’m sure I have some, somewhere.” Bryce slipped his hands around Dakota’s back, loving the feel of his weight on top of him, and the way the other man’s body covered him. He slid his hands up Dakota’s back, pushing his shirt up as he went. “Now kiss me.”
“Yes, sir,” Dakota said. Smiling, he brought his mouth to Bryce’s.
They kissed gently, a sensuous gliding of lips that started a fire burning in Bryce’s veins. Dakota’s tongue traced the shape of Bryce’s mouth. Bryce nipped at Dakota’s bottom lip, licking into his mouth to feel the porcelain slide of teeth against his tongue.
Through it all, Bryce stroked from the top of Dakota’s shoulders, down the muscled planes of his back, and into the surprisingly addictive curve at the small of his back. Bryce slipped the tips of his fingers under the waistband of Dakota’s jeans, pressing into the soft flesh.
Dakota broke the kiss with a gasp, so Bryce did it again.
Dakota ground his hips against Bryce, aligning himself so he could drag his erection along the matching swell in Bryce’s jeans. The bed squeaked in time to their thrusting. Harsh breaths and the sound of kissing filled Bryce’s ears.
Grabbing Dakota’s head with both hands, he pulled the other man tighter against him, thrusting his hips up and raising them both off the mattress.
Dakota pulled off with a gasp. “God, you can kiss. Fuck.”
“I’m not a virgin.” Lust clouded Bryce’s brain. His palms tingled with the need to touch skin. He shoved Dakota’s shirt up. “Off. Take it off.”
Dakota sat up, straddling Bryce’s hips, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you trying to get to second base with me?”
Bryce pressed his hand hard against the bulge in Dakota’s jeans. They both groaned. Bryce’s eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of another man’s erection under his hand.
The beginning of an orgasm tickled low in his balls. Nothing had ever felt like this, and they were still dressed. God, he was so gay.
“Take your fucking shirt off,” he growled, the heat in his voice surprising him. He had never understood the fascination with sex until now. He had enjoyed it, but he’d never felt as if he would die if he didn’t get his hands on someone’s skin in the next heartbeat.
Eyes locked onto Bryce’s, Dakota ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere into the dark room.
Bryce ran his fingers through the dusting of light blond hair on Dakota’s chest. Looking at Dakota for permission, he brushed his finger lightly over one nipple.
“Harder,” Dakota said.
Bryce spread his hands across Dakota’s chest, fingers wrapped around the sides and his thumbs rubbing hard circles into his nipples.
“Oh, fuck,” Dakota breathed, chest arching up into the sensation.
Bryce wanted to put his mouth on the stiff peaks, but he couldn’t move. Dakota’s ass rested directly on top of Bryce’s cock, and he was afraid if he moved at all, he would come in his jeans.
“God, touch me,” Dakota begged voice tight. He pulled one of Bryce’s hands off his chest and pressed it against his rock hard erection.
He traced the shape of it with his fingers. It felt big, hard, and hot. Dakota’s hips twitched, and he grunted softly as he thrust against Bryce’s hand. “God, take me out, please.”
Bryce had to do it. He couldn’t pretend this wasn’t happening, couldn’t deny the way his body was responding. Hands shaking, he worked the button of Dakota’s jeans open. Dakota pushed up onto his knees to make it easier to pull the zipper down. Bryce’s mouth went dry as he ran his finger up the outline of Dakota’s cock through his cotton boxer briefs.
“Still okay?” Dakota asked a little breathlessly.
Bryce’s laugh was shaky, but he nodded. He hooked a finger over the top of Dakota’s underwear. “Can I?”
Dakota nodded. Bot
h of them watched intently as Bryce gently lifted the cloth over Dakota’s cock. Dakota hissed as Bryce wrapped his fingers around another man’s cock for the first time.
Chapter Eight
DAKOTA
Dakota sighed as Bryce’s fingers closed around his dick. About fucking time. Everything about the man drove him crazy. As if the combination of perfect body, model looks, and body-builder strength wasn’t enough, now they had the whole ‘help me find out if I’m gay’ beginning of a porn video thing going on. Dakota was going to come embarrassingly fast just thinking about it.
Pink tinged the tops of Bryce’s cheekbones and the divot at the hollow of his throat as he watched Dakota’s dick slide through the circle of his hand. Dakota watched Bryce just as closely. He seemed fascinated by the foreskin.
Dakota’s chest rose and fell with the force of his breath. With his fingertips, he traced Bryce’s eyebrows and the cute wrinkles between them. “You’re concentrating so hard.”
“I never…” His voice trailed off, and his jaw dropped open. When his tongue darted out and licked his top lip, Dakota shivered, already picturing it on his cock.
Dakota chuckled breathlessly. “Well, you’re doing great.” He rolled his hips, pressing down against the monster cock he could feel trapped in Bryce’s jeans. That had to be uncomfortable for him, but it felt amazing to Dakota. Picturing Bryce braced over him, pushing that thick dick into him, made Dakota moan and shove himself hard against Bryce’s hand.
“Fuck,” Bryce whispered, fingers tightening wonderfully around the cock in his hand.
“God, yeah, like that.” Dakota snapped his hips forward a few times, then slid his hands under Bryce’s shirt. “Take this fucking thing off.”
Between the two of them, they managed to wrest the shirt over Bryce’s head, tossing it to the floor to join Dakota’s in the gloom.
The cold air pebbled Bryce’s nipples, and Dakota ran his hands reverently over the sculpted muscles and dark hair. He rubbed his palms in circles over the hard nipples. “Jesus. Your chest is a work of art. Do you spend all your time at the gym?”