Had he asked someone? I didn’t want to know.
He kept talking. “It doesn’t break down because it’s oil-based, but that’s bad for condoms so—”
I kissed him. His lips were still moving, but then he let my tongue in. I rolled him under me and tried out a slow, soft kiss. It tingled instead of that hot shock of excitement I usually had. I ran my tongue just inside his lips. Nice, but it didn’t feel like us. I felt him looking at me, but kept my eyes closed as I deepened the kiss.
His hands came up to hold my head. As for the rest of him, well, it felt like somehow his body made more space for me on top of him. One second things were weird between us and then they weren’t. We fit again.
I raised my head. “You don’t have to. I like you fucking me.”
“Now you want to talk? Shut up and fuck me, Wyatt.”
I was going to give it my best shot.
For once we had time. The earlier round had bled off the urgency, and the hotel room was our secret cave full of colored lights. And maybe I was absorbing some of Ethan’s romantic tendencies from the press of his skin. High concentration to low. Osmosis in action.
I kissed and stroked his chest. The hickey I sucked up on his collarbone made the blood pump hard and thick in my cock. First from the sounds he made, then from seeing the mark on him. I tried to urge him to turn over, but being Ethan, he had his own idea of how it should go.
He dragged down a pillow to put under his hips, while I got my fingers nice and slippery with lube. He bit his lip as he watched me move between his legs. He was tight like I remembered, clenching on my finger, but unlike when I was blowing him, he made an unhappy hiss.
I pulled my finger out.
“No, don’t stop.” His voice was a whisper.
“Just give it a second.” I’d been riding my own fingers almost since I started jerking off.
I kissed his belly and rubbed my cheek against his treasure trail, the hair there even more silky than on his head. This time I started to suck up another hickey near his hip as I pushed my finger in.
He grunted but it was definitely not an unhappy noise this time. We hung there for a bit, me gliding my finger back and forth slowly while I kissed from one hip bone to the other. My mouth moved lower, lips grazing the tip of his cock, and he clenched down hard on my finger.
“Don’t.”
I stopped everything.
“I mean, don’t blow me or I’ll come.” He made a shaky laugh. “Or we could get the desensitizing lube.”
“No.”
His ass softened again, enough for me to move. I tried the biting thing again when I went for the second finger. It didn’t take him jerking his legs against my ribs for me to know it was too much.
“Damn it.” He’d done a half ab crunch, too, and now he flopped back against the mattress. “I really want to do this.”
“I know. But it’s not something you can try harder at to win.”
He laughed.
I felt it around my finger and swallowed a gasp as I thought of it around my dick. Still. “I love everything we do. We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” He pulled his knees up toward his chest. “Try curling your finger—oh, yeah.”
I twisted my wrist and felt it, I think. The super p-spot of butt sex. Ethan certainly seemed to think so. He was pushing more eagerly onto my finger and moaning. He wasn’t as tight on me either and his dick was definitely harder. I got the lube with my free hand and put more on my fingers, around his hole. I dribbled a little on his dick for later.
Squishing my fingers together as much as I could, I pushed them in, aiming in the same direction. Ethan’s face squinched up, his muscles resisting again. I was going to back off but he relaxed.
“No. Okay now. It’s okay.”
It was, until we moved to my dick.
At first, all I could think about was how it felt, wet, hot, God—twitching texture on the head of my dick. I wanted to bury myself deep, but Ethan was locked tight. He chewed on his lip then clenched his teeth.
I pulled my hips back. “It’s not supposed to hurt like this.”
He cracked open one eye. “Even the first time?”
Did he think he had an ass hymen? “No.” I stretched out next to him, trying not to think about how he’d felt on my cock. “We really don’t have to. They’re not going to take away your gay card if you don’t like a dick in your ass.”
He raised his brows. “You’re suddenly full of information. And it didn’t hurt that much. Try again.”
“You can’t pull your usual lie-about-shit-to-make-it-easier for this.” I dragged the pillow from under his hips and tossed it away before pulling him toward me. “Why is it so important?”
He shrugged and turned away, but let me hold him, back to my chest. “It feels amazing. It’s not just sex. I’m inside you, feeling you all around me. You should get to try it.”
He’d said it to the wall, but I was the one who might as well have been talking to one.
“Everything with you feels amazing. I’ve told you that.” I lifted my head so I could see some of his face. “Ethan, do you think I’d break up with you because of it?”
“No?”
“Thanks a lot.”
He started to turn and then slumped back against me. His voice sounded like it had a hard time getting out of his throat. “It’s just, I can’t ever tell if you’re happy. And I want to make you happy with me. Any way I can.”
Oh. Maybe I was the shit for brains this time. I kissed his ear, his neck, his jaw. “You do. I am.” As much as I knew how to be. “I’m happier with you than I ever figured on being.”
“Okay.”
I squeezed him and then nipped his ear. “Okay? That’s all I get for baring my soul?”
“Your soul is still safely hidden under some internal hoodie.” He moved away enough to turn his shoulders and look at me. “But thank you. Of course, I’d be happier if you’d fuck me.”
I dug my chin into his collarbone and shook my head.
“What?” He widened his eyes. “I was really getting into it with your fingers.”
Before either of us could really think about it, I lifted his thigh and rubbed my dick against his hole. The muscle was softer now, still slippery. He hooked his ankle behind my knee. I gripped the base of my dick and pushed. Still tight, but not like he was trying to push me out. The head went in.
Okay. Yeah. It was really good.
Ethan groaned and grabbed his dick. I rocked us a little.
“More. Ready.” He licked his lower lip.
I watched his face as I shoved deeper, about halfway.
“God, yes. Fuck.” His lips were slack, eyes heavy lidded.
Even grabbing his thigh I couldn’t get much leverage, couldn’t push in any farther but it was still a rush. I was inside him, inside that soft squeezing heat, the round grip of his body a perfect match for my dick. And when he groaned, I felt it vibrate to my cock, ripple on the shaft.
I moved with short, quick thrusts, the friction making me sweat already. Heat poured down my spine, flooded from my balls. I wiped my forehead on his shoulder.
Ethan jerked his cock faster. “Oh shit. There. There. Right fucking there.”
I started wishing he would come, then hoping he didn’t, because I could do this until I died and not care. I was fucking him, and he loved it, and we were damned good together.
It built, slow at first, a warning pressure. And then it was right there. I had to hold back a tidal wave of desperation with just a few screaming muscles.
I bit his shoulder, more for me than for him, but that did it. His ass relaxed and I drove in deep just before he tightened on me, pulsing as his body jerked and his dick spat thick, white blobs on the sheet.
; I let go as soon as I saw the cream from his dick. The force of it pushed him belly down and I humped faster into all that grasping heat. I came, long, hard and so fucking sweet as my balls emptied into Ethan. I’d been sucking on his shoulder this whole time and when I let go, the sight of the bruise was a gut punch, aching through me.
I kissed it. “Sorry. Sorry.”
Ethan grabbed my arm and pulled me tight to him like he was dragging up a blanket. “Say it again, and I won’t blow you when we wake up.”
Chapter 10
Riding in the car with Ethan was not quiet. He made random comments about stuff we passed and he sang along to his Pandora station, which was, as far as I could figure out, “Everything but opera.” Right then, I wouldn’t have minded if he was belting out opera. Four orgasms in twelve hours had given me a mellow version of no fucks to give. Waking up wrapped in warm, snuggly boyfriend might also have had something to do with it.
We passed an exit sign.
“Valley Forge?” I couldn’t help picturing all the scenes out of history books.
“Yeah. We can go if you want.” His voice held all the excitement of someone who’d lived basically the next town over most of his life.
“Nah, don’t really care where Washington slept.”
“You’d be the only one in the county who didn’t.”
I studied the next exit sign. Philadelphia, New Jersey Turnpike, Shore Points.
How close were we to the ocean? “Is that like the Jersey Shore?”
“The place or the TV show?”
“The place, like how far to the beach?”
Ethan glanced at the clock in the dash above the display telling us that Pandora was playing Sia’s “Elastic Heart.” It was just noon.
“Wanna go?” he asked and put the blinker on.
I wouldn’t have minded another day or ten in the hotel room, and not just because it would put off the whole trailer-trash-felon boyfriend meets Ethan’s rich parents. This sounded legit enough. And I would like to see the ocean.
“Can we?”
He was smiling as he changed lanes.
* * *
“Walk down to the water?” Ethan had to yell against the wind as it dragged the words away from my good ear.
I nodded.
It was cold and cloudy. Most of the Atlantic City boardwalk behind us looked like every mall I’d seen on TV. But in front of us, sand led to water and then to sky. I might have seen the ocean a million times on TV, too, but that was nothing like being there.
At the end of the dune walk, the sand was soft. Walking in it reminded me of how much work certain muscles had put in all night.
I must have made a face because Ethan laughed and said, “Yeah. I feel it too.”
The sand was firmer close to the water, but the wind was meaner. It kept blowing off my hood. Still, I couldn’t just come all this way and not touch it. I stuffed my glove in my hoodie pouch and moved onto the wet sand, crouching to let a wave run over my fingers.
Shit. That was cold.
I backed up into Ethan, and we stumbled a few steps until we both ended up on our asses in cold sand. I hoped it was at least dry.
“Hmm. Sex on the beach,” Ethan said in my ear and wrapped his arms around me.
“You brought a portable shelter with heat?”
“Sorry. I didn’t plan that far ahead.”
The water broke on the shore, a sound that moved weirdly in my head, like it was trying to match frequency with the dullness of my left ear. I shook my head and pulled up the hood again.
“So what do you think?” Ethan asked.
“Thanks for bringing me.” Okay, I admit I was impressed. I loved the mountains even if I hated what Van was like, but watching the waves was hypnotic. “It’s cool.”
“If we’d had more time, I’d have taken you someplace nice, like Avalon or Stone Harbor. In the summer—” He cut himself off.
I wanted to ask if he’d meant us in the summer coming up, or had cut off some random memory, maybe of a trip with Blake. I knew I should ask, but sometimes Ethan was right. Not knowing was easier.
* * *
“So my dad, he has this tendency to make jokes at the worst times and he thinks he’s hilarious,” Ethan said as we drove through a neighborhood of houses that made me want to get out and throw myself in front of the car to stop our progress. They weren’t houses. They were little mansions. Double garage doors, hell even some of the garages were bigger than Uncle Owen’s house. Down one cul-de-sac I swore I saw something like a castle.
“Mom,” he went on, “well, you talked to Mom. She loves helping out, fixing stuff.”
Gee, I wondered who’d inherited that trait.
His fingers drummed the steering wheel, though he’d turned the music down to a whisper. Great. He was nervous too. I felt like I was late for a test in a class I’d never taken, naked and with the dreadful certainty that it wasn’t a dream.
He pulled into a driveway. Okay. At least it wasn’t one of the castle kind of houses. But it was still double the size of Uncle Owen’s. He pressed a button on the driver’s sun visor and the garage door swung open.
The door rolled back down after we were in the dark garage. Even though no sign warned Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter, I had to force myself to open the car door.
“Just your mom and dad, right?”
“Yes. We left all the Monroe cousins in storage until next Thanksgiving.”
I grabbed the gift bag Christine had told me to give Ethan’s mom right when we got there. A hostess gift, she’d called it. It was jams and expensive crackers, nestled in a basket of bright kitchen towels. Apparently there was a manual for this kind of stuff, but it had never been on any of my syllabuses.
A step led us into a little laundry room with coats along one wall. I dropped my duffle there, and took off my boots when Ethan toed off his kicks. Sand spilled out. Ethan threw a little of it at me, but the fun memory didn’t help. Anxiety was crashing around inside like a deer trapped in a windshield.
I reached to pull my hood up. Ethan punched my shoulder lightly, then flashed the ASL shorthand for I love you. I left the hood down, but made sure my long bangs covered my dark eye. The hunch of my shoulders I couldn’t control.
We went into a kitchen bright with stainless steel and polished granite. Ethan’s mom flipped through a magazine, perched on a stool at an island. Ethan gave her a quick hug.
She slipped off the stool, and I saw she wasn’t where Ethan got his height, but the brown eyes and the antique-gold color of his hair, that was her. She gave me a warm smile. The deer stopped kicking me in the ribs for a second. After all, she had been really nice on the phone when she gave me the pie recipe.
Ethan kept an arm around her. “This is Wyatt.”
“Hi, Mrs. Monroe. Thank you for letting me visit.” I gave her the gift bag.
“You’re welcome, Wyatt. Call me Jenna. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
The deer woke up, thrashing around. There was something in her tone that hadn’t been there on the phone. Some kind of extra scrutiny. I hunched harder. Maybe we were late? Messed up her dinner? I didn’t smell anything cooking.
She pulled out the gift basket. “Thank you very much, Wyatt. How lovely.”
Ethan beamed at me. Yes, I was housebroken apparently. Score one for me. Actually, for Christine.
“I love lemon curd,” Mrs. Monroe—Jenna—said. “Maybe I’ll make some scones for it later. Why don’t you show Wyatt around?”
Maybe things always felt like this at first, and later we’d have frozen pizza and everything would be okay.
Ethan showed me the downstairs bathroom, then brought me upstairs to his room, where he pulled me into a hug. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
The flailing of my insides against my ribs was slowing, leaving me with just an acid stomach. I wanted to be with Ethan, but the reality of being here with Ethan was even more of a naked and late nightmare than I’d thought it would be.
“Mom didn’t say anything about dinner, so maybe we’ll go out. Or maybe just you and I could. You want to go to a movie?”
I guessed hiding in his room wasn’t really an option. I stepped back from him. “What would you do if I wasn’t here?”
“Um, honestly?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Go online. Text you.” His voice dropped to a mumble. “Watch some porn. Jerk off.”
“You lead a desperate life, Ethan Monroe.”
“Why, what would you do?”
“Depends on where.”
“Back at your uncle’s.” He sat on his bed and leaned back on his elbows.
“We watched some TV. They got me hooked on Face Off. Have you seen it?”
“The one about makeup?”
“It’s not just makeup. It’s cool. It’s like they transform people into—I mean, some are train wrecks, but...” I suddenly realized why I liked it so much.
“But?”
“In the end, it’s the weird stuff, the unusual stuff that’s the best.”
“Huh.” He smiled and pulled his laptop out from under his bed. “Show me.” He hooked his foot around my knee and dragged me forward. I had a flashback to him with his ankle behind my knee, while I held him open and fucked into his hot, tight ass. Which I was not planning on doing again with his mom downstairs. I shoved a pair of jeans off a desk chair and sat on that instead.
Ethan laughed at me, but we found one of my favorite episodes on Hulu and watched.
One of the artists talked about the trouble her model had with the solid color contacts. I glanced at Ethan. “Did you tell your parents about Waardenburg?”
“Not directly.”
“What does that mean?” Was this going to be another easy-living-through-lies deal?
“I didn’t want them to stare at you or make a big deal of it so I told them about the heterochromia and your hair.”
Boyfriend Material Page 8