Forever (F-Word Book 4)
Page 8
“Yeah, well,” Jake mumbled. He couldn’t very well confess love to Tristan while they were still doing… whatever they were doing right now. “It’s complicated.”
“Mmm.” Amanda arched an eyebrow and wordlessly disappeared to the kitchen. Milo poked his head around the corner to spy on Tristan’s table a minute later.
Jake stifled his laugh and covered his face.
Oh, man. With all eyes on them, it was going to be a long damn hour before the end of his shift.
10
Tristan
“I hope I didn’t make things awkward tonight.”
They walked hand-in-hand toward Tristan’s car, and it was a strange feeling. Tristan had never held hands with someone he liked before—not off-screen, anyway.
It was warmer and sweatier than he’d imagined, but it also made his whole world somehow narrow to Jake. Like Jake was the only person who mattered to him, and in some ways, he could see that becoming true.
Despite himself, he kind of wanted people to see him on Jake’s arm. Like he was showing him off.
He wanted Jake to be his.
God, they were going to have to talk out what this was between them soon—hopefully tonight.
“No, no,” Jake assured him. “It was fine. As long as you’re comfortable with it.”
“I don’t know what I’m comfortable with anymore,” Tristan admitted with a small smile. “I’ve been thinking about everything way too much. I’m not that kind of guy.”
“You’re a feeler. I like that.” Jake gave him a smile and squeezed his hand, then let go when they got to Tristan’s car. “So, should I follow you back, or…?”
“Fuck it. We’ll take my car. I’ll drop you off here to get it, or I’ll drive you to your appointment tomorrow, I don’t mind.” Tristan shook his head, watching Jake pat down his pockets. “Unless… is this parking lot safe overnight?”
“Yeah, security knows my car. They won’t tow me.” Jake grinned at Tristan. “You just don’t want to take your hands off me, that’s the problem.”
Tristan pretended to growl and pushed Jake up against the hood of the car. “You bet.”
Jake giggled and shoved his chest. “Amanda will be out any minute.”
“So proper,” Tristan pretended to sigh and roll his eyes, keeping their bodies pressed together. “Next, you’ll want to take me to dinner first. But cheesecake is close enough, right?” Jake had treated him to it, too, despite Tristan trying his hardest to pay.
“Not sure what the chivalry handbook says about that.” Jake smirked up at him, his charm at full blast. “But it definitely doesn’t include screwing in a restaurant parking lot.”
“Fuck that manual, then.”
“I was thinking of more manual fucking,” Jake whispered and squeezed Tristan’s ass. “Get me to your place.” As always, the confidence Jake radiated made Tristan instinctively respond.
Tristan winked. “Oooh. Yes, sir. If you’re in a rush, I’m sure I can oblige.”
This was a whole new kind of excitement for him. He’d never let himself sleep with the same guy so often, and part of him had expected the novelty to wear off. After all, they already knew each other’s bodies. They’d fooled around pretty much every way they could, with one glaring exception.
And Tristan distinctly felt it pressing into him.
“Are you wearing a… I mean, do you have…” Tristan fumbled for the right words, not wanting to kill the mood.
Jake pressed against Tristan’s thigh, the bulge suddenly obvious. Feeling him there ignited sparks of expectation under Tristan’s skin. “I’m packing hard, yeah. I haven’t had a turn yet, and I plan to change that.”
“Let’s go,” Tristan choked out, his voice hoarse all of a sudden. He was stirring to life in his jeans, his cock hot and his thoughts hotter.
“Now who’s in a rush?” Jake was in no hurry to ease away from the car, but he finally sauntered around to the passenger side, grinning like the cat who got the cream. Or was about to, anyway.
Tristan fumbled with the door handle. Goddamn, driving with a hard-on was awkward, but he had the suspicion Jake wasn’t going to give him a break.
Sure enough, once the car was started, Jake reached over the center console to put a hand on Tristan’s thigh.
Just that—he didn’t run his fingers up along sensitive skin, he didn’t even squeeze… but that much was enough to make Tristan stop breathing for a few seconds.
How had Jake managed to squirm his adorable little way into Tristan’s heart, and the center of all his fantasies, and his bed? But there he was, trying to apply logic again.
Feelings, though… feelings were leading him straight down the path to more feelings. And then the commitment kind of feelings.
Jake was changing everything in ways he didn’t even know yet. Tristan laughed under his breath as he pulled onto the road.
“Hm?” Jake questioned. His hum was soft, but it was distinct nonetheless.
Without even the radio on, there was just road noise and… something undefinable between them. Tristan could almost hear it. Like a buzz, but not in the air. It was under his skin, simultaneously calming the stress he hadn’t even been aware of and waking up nerves he hadn’t known existed before Jake.
It was hard to think how to explain it, so Tristan just huffed a quick chuckle. “I can’t. It’s just… being around you is too good.”
Jake smiled softly and squeezed Tristan’s knee. “Yeah. I know that feeling.”
The drive seemed quicker than he’d expected as they made small talk about Tristan’s latest gym foray, and Jake’s coworkers. Everything Tristan said seemed to pass in one of Jake’s ears and out the other, the conversation bouncing between subjects; even so, there was a certain way Jake watched him that told him Jake wasn’t just hearing him… he was listening.
It seemed like he’d barely blinked before they were inside, shrugging off their shoes. Jake caught Tristan’s hand before he could pull his shirt off. “I want that pleasure.”
A few little words, and the fire was burning brightly again under Tristan’s skin. He needed to be needed, and Jake more than rose to the occasion.
“I’ve been looking forward to this,” Jake murmured, grinning up at him.
“Were you packing hard at work?”
“No. I leave a rod in the glovebox, in case of emergencies. I snuck out to get it.”
“A rod…” Tristan trailed off, glancing down at Jake’s bulge.
“You know what? You’ll see in a minute,” Jake said with a grin. “Spare me the sex ed role.”
“You can teach me by doing, not telling.”
Tristan slid the bedroom door shut, which always made the place feel cozy. Warm. Inviting. Just the two of them, and these four walls. When they couldn’t even see the rest of the apartment, let alone the rest of the world, Tristan liked it.
“It’s been too damn long,” Tristan complained. They hadn’t fucked last night, and that had felt like the right choice, but… he’d missed it.
“Days and days,” Jake teased as his gaze roved up and down Tristan’s body. “Like three whole days, right?”
Tristan laughed, and just then, Jake grabbed him by the shirt. His laugh faded as arousal took the place of amusement.
Jake steered him over to the bed, his fingers stretching the fabric. God, he was stronger than he looked.
Tristan obediently sat when he was pushed down, and then he gasped as he found himself stripped of his t-shirt in one fluid move. “Oh, hello.”
“You’ve been sitting there, eyeing me up from your booth, all night.” Jake clicked his tongue. “Making it hard to focus on work.”
“Was I making you hard?” Tristan leaned back, pressing his palms into the bed and trying for an innocent smile. “I had no idea.”
“The way you ate that cheesecake is at odds with that expression,” Jake said as he poked Tristan’s chest with his finger, but he was grinning.
Tristan spread his knees
so Jake could get closer, but he still stood just far enough away that their legs didn’t touch. The distance between them made him ache, and he itched to close it somehow. He tried cocking his head in a come-hither expression.
Jake just grinned. “I see you’ve got a Bluetooth speaker over there.” He swayed back and forth, tugging at his own clothes.
“Yeah. Why—ohhh.” Tristan bit his tongue, not wanting to jinx himself. If he was about to get a striptease, he was going to enjoy every damn moment of it.
Within a minute, Jake had his phone connected and was playing a low, thumpy song Tristan recognized from his rare club outings. Something with a beat he could move to.
He shimmied closer and caught Tristan’s eye before peeling his shirt off. One button at a time, he exposed more skin until his shirt was open, and then turned around to give Tristan a view of his ass.
He wasn’t a professional dancer, but he moved with the kind of certainty of a man who knew his body inside and out, and knew what he liked, and knew what other guys liked about him.
It was utterly intoxicating. Tristan was supposed to be the one with all the sex appeal—the yearned-after movie star—and yet it was Jake who was unquestionably commanding every ounce of attention here.
“You’re magnetic,” Tristan whispered. “You know that aura belongs in front of a camera, not behind it?”
Jake winked and shook his head, not accepting the compliment but not exactly shooting it down, either. “You’d find me in the catering tent before you found me in front of a camera, Tris.”
The nickname made Tristan beam. Only his good friends called him that, and Jake had more than earned that right. “Yeah.”
He couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say, because Jake had started to slide his shirt off. When he turned around again, his chest was at eye-level, muscled and gleaming in the bedroom lamplight.
“You’re gorgeous,” Tristan murmured, his lips curling up into a broad smile. He couldn’t stop himself—either from smiling at the way his every ounce of attention was focused on Jake, or from commenting on it.
Jake grinned. “Wait until you see my cock.” He swayed his hips as he unzipped his pants.
“I already know it’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, this is a different cock,” Jake told him with a playfulness that made Tristan burst out laughing.
“You get to just swap dicks whenever you like. Do you know how many guys would kill to be able to do that? Have a little one for skinny jeans, and a big one for those XL nights…”
“I know exactly how many guys would kill for that,” Jake smirked. “Or to be on the receiving end of that. And tonight,” Jake murmured, “that’s you.”
Fuck. Tristan kind of loved him. “It’s me,” he echoed dumbly. Holy crap, had Jake completely addled his brains? Apparently so, because all he could think of was that response.
Jake slid his trousers down and stepped out of them, and the outline of his cock was even more apparent as he stepped close, standing between Tristan’s legs at last.
“It’s going to be a little different than a flesh-and-blood penis.”
“And you’re a little different than most guys.” Jake recoiled for a moment, his expression guarded, and Tristan realized how that sounded. Tristan hastily added, “In a good way. Jesus, I don’t doubt that. I can’t remember the last time I had a guy more than once.”
Jake relaxed again and smiled back. “Yeah. You’re different, too. And I can’t figure it out. Or you out, really.”
“But you want to try?”
“I want to fuck you tonight,” Jake said and smirked. “We’ll see about after that.”
Tristan was practically vibrating from the skin contact, and Jake’s thighs pressing his legs apart. He leaned in to press kisses along Jake’s stomach, bending down until he was kissing fabric.
One of Jake’s hands was suddenly in his hair, gripping tightly.
Tristan moaned his approval and arousal, lipping the outline of the shaft and gazing up at him. The angle was awkward, but totally worth it to see the look on his face.
Jake was hungry, and more than ever before, Tristan wanted him. If all Jake could do was chew him up and spit him out, Tristan was okay with that. It was his own damn fault for wanting to have his cake and eat it too.
Fuck. Don’t think about that. Don’t think at all. Just do.
Tristan followed instinct and blind desire as he pulled Jake’s underwear down slowly, careful to leave the jock strap on. The hard cock inside was curved slightly, tucked against one leg.
Jake slid a hand into his field of vision and bend his shaft up. It clicked ever so faintly as he did so, holding in place when he’d bent it up. Tristan immediately understood the comment about a rod earlier.
Jesus, the thought of him sneaking to his car to get the road was hot. Maybe Jake had been planning to fuck him all night—or for longer.
Jake guided the tip toward Tristan’s mouth, and Tristan obediently parted his lips around the head. The taste of warm silicone was different. It was a little softer than he’d expected, but he reacted to it like sucking any cock nonetheless. The imprinted veins slid across his tongue, and the weight in his mouth gave him the same feeling he so craved.
Submission.
There was no denying it or getting around it. He was Jake’s tonight, to do with as he pleased, and it thrilled him.
Jake had a plan, judging by the way he pulled back, pressing his cock for a moment against Tristan’s lips and admiring the view. Then, he grabbed Tristan’s thighs and hoisted him up the bed.
Tristan grunted and laughed, taking over so he could squirm all the way up the bed. “Strong.”
“I don’t go to the gym to look pretty.” Jake followed, keeping his hand on Tristan’s chest as if he weren’t going to let him get away. It made Tristan’s cock throb with appreciation.
“I do,” Tristan snickered. “And to find pretty men to fuck me six ways from Sunday.”
“What a lucky find you made, then,” Jake teased. The moment Tristan reached the pillows, he crawled over him, his back straight and chin tipped up like he defied Tristan to misbehave.
Tristan ran his hands up Jake’s thighs. “Lube’s in the top drawer.”
“I know.”
“Oh. Right.” Tristan laughed under his breath. They’d fucked here a few times already, and Jake was getting to know his room. And his life. It was strange how happy that made him.
Jake gave him a thoughtful look that he couldn’t decipher for a moment, and then leaned over to scoop up the lube. Just the sound of the bottle snapping open had Tristan squirming with anticipation.
He caressed his shaft softly at first, and then started to jerk off.
“I could watch you play with yourself all day,” Jake hummed, and then he grinned. “Maybe I should.”
Tristan gasped. “With your cock right there? That’s mean.”
“Oh, if you insist.” Jake winked and touched him with two wet fingers, running them in agonizingly slow circles around his hole at first. Then he sped up, using feather-light touches, and pressing harder, and…
The tight ring of muscle gave in as Tristan pushed against Jake’s fingers, and he was inside. Jake fingered him slowly at first, moving his fingers in and out with more care than Tristan had probably ever experienced from a hookup.
But then again, as they’d danced around for weeks now, this wasn’t just a hookup. And I’m back to trying to think it through. Better to roll with the feelings.
“What?” Jake questioned, slowing. “Does it hurt?”
Tristan realized he was smiling, too. So much that it might look like a grimace. “Not at all. You underrate my bottoming skills.”
“Oh, I so hoped you had them, judging by your topping skills. It’s hard to find a good vers like me.” Jake thrust his fingers a little harder now, running his other hand up Tristan’s chest to play with his nipples while Tristan kept jerking himself off.
“It is,” Tristan
agreed breathlessly. “Come on. Cock. Now.”
Jake rolled a condom onto himself first, but moments later, he had the tip pressing against him.
It took Jake a moment to find his balance and angle, but the awkwardness of the first few moments didn’t last. As soon as the head was in, the harder shaft filled Tristan easily, inch by inch.
Tristan was panting for breath already, his skin prickling with heat and pleasure and a touch of pain. He felt utterly vulnerable with Jake inside him.
Didn’t make a damn bit of difference whether or not it was flesh and blood—it was undeniably Jake inside him, on top of him, and in charge of him.
And that thought made him grin again, giving a pleased moan. He slowed down his own hand now that Jake was inside him, wanting to last longer.
“Fuck me, baby. Show me your hot rod.”
Jake snorted and smacked his chest. “That was horrible.”
“It was a little funny.”
“I’m in charge here, and I say it wasn’t.” Jake grinned, though, as he gave one thrust for emphasis. “I like fucking you, though,” he added. “You don’t take it too seriously. It’s fun.”
The pleasure crashing through him, and the need for more, erased the argument from Tristan’s brain immediately. All he heard was fucking, and all he wanted was Jake moving inside him. “More,” he whispered, and Jake obliged.
Their bodies moved in sync now, each of them somehow understanding the other’s without the awkward stops and starts, or the mismatched rhythm, or any of the hallmarks of mediocre sex that Tristan had taken for granted.
It was slow, tentative, but it felt like the beginning of something more.
With Jake, even if it wasn’t perfect, it felt right. They were locked together in a way he didn’t understand, and he didn’t feel like he needed to justify or explain or even fear it.
“Does it feel good for you too?” Tristan murmured, giving him a look of concern. He didn’t want to have all the fun here.
“There’s bumps inside that I grind against when I go harder. I just have to get the angle right.”
“Do it,” Tristan whispered. “Fuck me hard, baby. Make yourself come for me.”