Ex-Daredevil
Page 18
I had been avoiding Gavin, knowing he’d demand the truth about Peter, and it made me feel so weak and easily manipulated that I had been sure he would reject me. Or that it wouldn’t be a good enough reason for the way I’d behaved and he wouldn’t forgive me.
So the fact that he had come here and shown compassion for me, shown anger at Peter, made me want to cry a little. He’d accepted my words as the absolute truth without hesitation, changed his plan on a dime, and wasn’t showing a hint of pity or derision. He wanted me to stay his boyfriend, and he wanted to seal our new promises with sex.
It was so exhilarating and overwhelming that I backed up just enough to give us the space to undo my belt and fly, and murmured teasingly, “Big word for such a pretty twink.”
Laughing delightedly, he fished out my cock, his grip so tight. It felt so good I threw my head back and bit back a howl. I refocused to tear open his button fly, then shoved his skinny jeans and briefs down, slamming him back into my desk with the force it required to make it work. Taking the opportunity, I engulfed his leaking cock in my mouth and bobbed quick and deep, my eyes rolling back in my head when his perfect taste hit my tongue.
He grabbed fistfuls of my hair and lifted me off with an obscene pop so that we could kiss again, only now with our hips sawing back and forth, shoving our cocks together.
It was rough, unrefined, and impatient, and it was unforgettable, everything I’d ever wanted. But it was even better because I cared about him and he cared enough about me to hunt me down and set me straight, then demand I take him, something we hadn’t done yet.
The reminder made me crazy, so I sucked what I hoped would be a disorganized array of very red hickey into his neck and above his right nipple, then spun him around.
His hands fanned out on my desk, slipping against the polished wood surface when I thrust my cock hard between his ass cheeks, but then he got purchase and thrust back.
“Do it, come on,” he taunted breathlessly, “right here, bent over your shiny desk in your boring office in the uptight law firm where you work, while everyone’s out to lunch.”
“Every suit’s fantasy,” I hissed, tearing open the first packet of lube. I slid my slick fingers confidently into his crease, swirling them around his hole before working them into him. I’d done it to him before so I knew he could take it, that he liked the challenge and the stretch, and in that moment, I didn’t double-check because I wanted him so badly.
As soon as he was relaxed enough, I pulled my fingers out, baring my teeth in a feral grin at the disappointed noise he made, and put on the condom. I slicked it up too, then had to grab the base of my cock hard when he spread his legs and deepened the angle of his back. His wiry shoulders bunched, his fingers curling over the far edge of my desk.
“Eliott,” he begged, the picture of desire.
“I’ll never get any work done at this desk again,” I groaned as I popped the head of my cock into his hole, then slurred out a string of swears and who-knows-what when he glided his wonderful, tight ass down my cock until I bottomed out. “Fuck, I knew you’d be perfect.”
“Move, asshole,” he demanded.
“Okay, baby,” I teased.
Immediately, he snapped his ass back on me in reaction.
I dug my hands into his hips hard enough to bruise and lost all reason and sense of time, left only with this wild drive to claim him. My eyes were glued to his gorgeous back, the intricate ink emphasizing the lines of his muscles and spine instead of obscuring them.
Our rhythm was fast and deep, Gavin doing at least half the work, and I loved how unapologetically he shifted his hips until he got me at the right angle to hit his prostate.
More, though, I loved how it felt, not just in my skin but in my head, and my heart. This was objectively stupid—I was fucking him for the first time not in my bed, but over my desk at work in the middle of the day, after a confrontation and an apology. But I felt so free and so wanted, just the way I was, boring and in suits, missing colors and flamboyance. I felt his appreciation and his desire in every movement, in every cute little huff of exertion and babbled demand to go faster or right there, baby, right there, like he couldn’t stop.
My body gave up its last vestige of control sooner than I wanted, because I wanted to stay here for fucking ever, but the powerful orgasm wouldn’t be stopped, surging out of me.
I grit my teeth, the tendons in my throat bulging painfully as I stifled a shout.
Gavin’s body was desperate under me, and I carefully hauled him up against my chest, so that my still-hard cock stayed in him. His arms shot up to lock behind my neck, his face shoved into one of his biceps, and I stroked my hands around and down his body. One rolled and tugged his balls while the other sped up and down the top half of his cock with a twist. He shook and made helpless jerks with his hips until he finally blew over my hand and his belly, whimpering into his skin and tightening his arms behind my neck painfully.
“Oh my god,” he whined, going lax against me suddenly.
I nuzzled into his hair, licking up some of the sweat on the back of his neck. “I missed this,” I sighed, then clarified quickly, “Missed much more than just the sex. I missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” he said, sounding almost shy. “I didn’t like being apart like that.”
As we disentangled our bodies and cleaned up, I thought about where to go from here.
But before I came up with anything, he had put himself back together. He grinned and straightened the knot in my tie, then nibbled on my bottom lip. Pulling back, he proclaimed, “On Sunday, I’m going to pick you up. Not for a Daring Date, but you’re just going to have to trust me and say yes, no arguments. Wear hangout clothes, but pack a swimsuit.”
“Swimsuit?” I looked out the window where it was a blustery, freezing November day in Chicago and twisted my mouth. “I do not swim in Lake Michigan, Gavin. Do you know how many germs there are in it? If you’re thinking about a polar bear plunge, I forfeit.”
He laughed, eyes lighting up with that wonderful combination of exasperation and challenge. “I could cheat and tell you that’s exactly what my plan was. But I’m not a cheater and it must be your lucky day because I’m set on my plan. The swimsuit is for a pool.”
I almost told him pools weren’t much better than the lake, but I heard people outside my office talking more loudly than was necessary. Taking the warning, I pursed my lips.
He smirked and went towards the door, tossing over his shoulder, “This went really well, but don’t think it gets you out of a lot of groveling and a lot more talking, mister.”
Chapter 29
Gavin
After we survived our first serious fight, we spent every night together at his place, even though I didn’t always stay over. It was bumpy because Eliott looked so guilty and apologized a lot, which made me frustrated and snippy. But then one of us would tease the other like we always had, and things would smooth out, going back to normal for a while.
We cycled through that a lot until I got fed up and told him, “I changed my mind. You messed up and it sucked, but we worked it out. We’re not going to forget what we learned from it, but groveling is the worst and I don’t like it. I just want to be us again, okay?”
“Groveling isn’t the worst,” he argued. “Hurting you was the worst.”
“I don’t want this to define who we are anymore,” I said, pressing my hand into his chest and feeling his heart thumping under it. “So let’s not forget it, but let’s close the case.”
He agreed with a nod and a sweet kiss.
Then on Saturday I didn’t see him and it was weird, after seeing him five days in a row. But it was my grandma’s birthday and definitely not the right time to introduce Eliott to my whole family, and the whole neighborhood that showed up at the bar to celebrate. My cousins made fun of me for having my first real boyfriend, and I avoided my mom after she actually teared up and hugged me when I let slip that it had been six months, just abou
t.
So when I rode to Eliott’s place Sunday afternoon to pick him up, I was eager to see him again, and I couldn’t wait to take him swimming. Originally this was supposed to be my third Daring Date, but I’d decided it would be better to take some time after the fight.
So today was all about hanging out with my friends and showing off my man.
When Eliott came outside a minute after I pulled my bike into his driveway, I flipped up my visor and then let out a quiet moan. I surveyed his bike-appropriate jeans, boots, and heavy black leather jacket zipped up to his Adam’s apple, the outfit basically the same as mine. But the best part was the prissy, pissed off expression he was wearing.
I shamelessly stroked over my half-hard dick as I readjusted it in my jeans and his expression was pure smugness. “Did you buy that leather jacket just to wear on a ride with me?” I wanted to know while he tucked clothes into my pack alongside my own things.
With a sniff, he flicked my visor closed. “No, I bought it because it’s warm and stylish.”
I handed him my spare helmet and watched him put it on in one capable, sexy move.
Expecting him to climb on the bike like it was a poisonous snake again, I was not prepared for the smooth way he mounted it and slid until he was grinding against my ass.
Unable to dirty talk while wearing helmets, unless we wanted to yell, all I could do was reach back to grab his hip desperately, then shove it until he gave in and eased off an inch. It didn’t deter him from digging cold hands under my jacket and tracing them over my stomach as I started driving, not light tickles or absent strokes of his thumb, but deliberate, firm movements. Goosebumps spread across my skin, nothing to do with the winter winds.
By the time I parked on the street that ran along the back edge of Barley’s property, I was this close to just dragging Eliott into some bushes and rutting against him until I came.
“Thanks for the ride,” he murmured, with the barest hint of innuendo.
“If you think I’m embarrassed to walk into this party with a raging boner, you’re dead wrong,” I told him hotly, taking the pack off the bike and slinging it over one shoulder.
He looked around the rich suburban street apprehensively and asked, “Party?”
Leading him to Barley’s back gate, I punched in the code and continued up the path, which was bordered by sweet-smelling wildflowers during spring and summer.
“It sounds loud,” Eliott said, the apprehension sharp in his voice now.
“It’s always loud at Barley’s,” I laughed, towing him towards the sunroom at the back of the house and the brand-new heated pool next to it. “This is nothing, wait a few hours.”
“Shit, is this Barley’s house—?” he hissed.
Something about Eliott’s tone had me stopping right away, turning to look up at him. Eliott was an accomplished, unflappable lawyer, intimidating and intelligent, but his hands were almost desperate as they scrambled up my stomach to latch onto my arms.
“I don’t—I don’t like being in front of lots of people. I nearly dropped out of law school because mock trials made me nauseated. Loud parties with strangers evoke the same—”
I shook my head and then leaned in to rub my cheek along his. He was so unexpected, with his pockets of insecurities that would have made me impatient with anyone else.
“You know me and I know them,” I reassured him, and then licked my lips and told him how I was feeling as best as I could, because when we didn’t do that, it hurt us. “I get that it feels awkward because Barley is also your client, but today, he’s your boyfriend’s friend. We’ve reached this new level… and it’s been more than six months… so I want you to meet my friends. You’re all important to me and I want you to get to know each other.”
His expression wobbled between happiness and trepidation, so I smoothed my hands down my toros and taunted him, “Don’t worry, baby, they’ll only be looking at me anyway.”
Eliott guffawed and rolled his eyes, and I smiled broadly and started walking again, confident that he was with me again, through the pocket of insecurity.
We rounded the final corner of the house and the party was sprawled out from the all-glass sunroom to the pool to the big fire pit, maybe fifty people hanging out. The sunroom had tables covered in colorful dishes of food that were mostly demolished already, coolers of drinks underneath them. People were in the pool, draped over floating chairs and rafts, and people were in chairs around the fire pit, eating and smoking cigars.
“Gav!” Barley shouted as he came out of the sunroom with beer bottles in hand.
Barley handed off the beers and loped over, scooping me up in a hug and then doing the same thing to an astonished, stiff as a board Eliott. “Glad to see you, man!” he boomed.
“Ah, thank you for having me…?” Eliott tried.
Leaving his arm slung around Eliott’s neck, Barley laughed. “Welcome to the party.”
“We’re going to duck inside and change real quick so we can swim,” I said, extracting Eliott from Barley’s hold and pulling him inside, where it was like forty degrees warmer.
“You little shit,” Eliott hissed once he’d looked around to make sure we were alone.
“I told you he likes you.” I bragged, taking him into one of the bathrooms to change.
He groaned and complained, “I’m terrible in situations like this. When I go out with Camdon and my other friends from college, the only reason I’m happy to be at the club is because we’re there to spend time with each other, so I don’t have to try to… socialize. And in this specific situation, I’m about to socialize with a client who happens to be your boss!”
“That’s why I have a surprise,” I said, then stripped down to my underwear.
Instead of boxer briefs, today I had on red stretch cheeky panties with lace trim.
“Damn it, Gavin,” he groaned like he was in pain, even as he got right on his knees.
He nuzzled the pouch stretching to accommodate my hardening dick, then mouthed it when I reached down to lock my hands in his hair, rocking into his lips and chin.
“Just like the day we met, huh?” His hands crept under the panties, his palms cupping my thighs and his fingers caressing my hip flexors. I couldn’t help but taunt, “You said one of your kinks is panties and since I have a bunch, you can have a reward for being here.”
I sucked in a shocked, lusty gasp when he stretched his jaw wide and slithered his tongue from my balls up to my tip, mouth closing around me as much as he could. My hips bucked up under his ministrations and I whispered, “And I’m naked while you’re dressed.”
He groaned and angled his head so he was able to concentrate on my tip, working it over as if it were my entire dick, making my legs shake. No one had ever done anything like this to me and it was so intense combined with the textured restriction of the panties.
Soon he peeled them off, then continued, his chin bumping the base of my dick rhythmically with every abbreviated bob. I was on the edge so fast my head spun, and I didn’t know how to hold back. “Yes,” I whispered as I shot into his mouth over and over.
As if he had lost every ounce of decorum he’d drilled into himself, Eliott licked and sucked every last drop and smear of my come off my cock almost frantically.
Out of my mind, my stomach contracting with an aftershock that felt like some sort of tantric thing, I watched him, watched as his arm began to move between his own legs. I had no idea if he’d undone his pants or if he was just rubbing off on his hand through his jeans.
It was so erotic, but I begged, “Don’t make yourself come, Eliott, please let me—”
He pulled back so fast that he overbalanced and landed on the rug, sprawled out, pants undone and dick out, leaking and quivering with the force of his desire.
Before he could even reach for me, I crouched between his thighs and sucked his dick down my throat. I wanted him to finish as quick and stunning as I had, but he fucked my face slow and firm, and I grabbed the rim of the tub
for balance. We weren’t touching anywhere but where his dick was buried down my throat and it was so dirty and perfect.
“Fuck,” he ground out, “the way you take me—I’ll let you win all the bets if you just—Gavin!” One of his legs kicked out, luckily not hitting the toilet behind me, and his body bowed up, his come pumping straight down my throat so that I barely got a taste.
I swirled my tongue gently over him one last time, then let him go reluctantly.
He dropped a forearm over his eyes, laughing breathlessly. “I can’t believe we did that.”
“Barley’s a rock star, no one will give a damn.” I patted his thigh companionably and added, “But we can’t stay in here forever. Put on your trunks and let’s go party.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem,” he said sarcastically, still a little out of breath. “Just get to a party, say hi to the host, blow each other in the bathroom, and then go party and swim.”
“Exactly,” I chirped as if I didn’t notice the sarcasm.
I rinsed out my mouth, took off the panties, hopped into my purple trunks, and put my tee shirt back on. Moving slower, his hands shaking the tiniest bit, Eliott shucked his clothes and put on black trunks that cupped his ass and a white thermal that clashed with it adorably. I grinned at it while he put all of our discarded clothes and boots into the pack.
I tossed the pack into Barley’s coat closet, trusting everyone to leave it be, and then brought Eliott back to the sunroom, where we got food since we’d worked up an appetite.
We caught up with Barley in the living room, where he introduced Eliott to the other members of Barnyard, the producer on the album they were recording, and a couple other personal assistants, who were just as close to the other band members as I was to Barley.
It was interesting to see what Eliott did. I knew that he was perfectly capable of making conversation and being cool under pressure, but I also knew that if he didn’t like the mostly shallow, mindless chatter of first dates, he wouldn’t like party chatter either.