by L. A. Witt
Jon started to speak, but one stroke of his dick, and his eyes slid closed and he sighed. “Fuck . . .”
Matt grinned. A naked, aroused Jon was sexy beyond words. Realizing he had this effect on him? Making him squirm and bite his lip and furrow his brow? Jesus. He made a mental note that next time he fucked him, he wanted to be facing him. He wanted to watch every thrust register on Jon’s face.
Goose bumps sprang up between his shoulders and along his forearms. Yeah, that needed to happen. Soon. The minute he was hard again, he wanted to be balls deep in Jon while Jon lay on his back just like this. He’d always loved that with women, and now he craved it with men. No, with this man in particular. He wanted Jon, under him, laid out and blissed out, and—
“Fuck, that feels good.” Jon hauled him down to kiss him, and they frantically made out as he fucked into Matt’s fist. More goose bumps. Fucking him while facing him turned into an even hotter prospect. Not only would Matt be able to see him, he’d be able to kiss him.
Jon moaned into the kiss, hips lifting as he pushed himself into Matt’s fist. His kiss was breathless and needy, and his cock was even thicker and harder now, like he was getting close.
Matt broke the kiss and blurted out, “I want to suck you off.”
“Oh yeah,” Jon murmured. “Yeah. Do it.” Somehow, he made it sound like both a command and a plea, and Matt was surprised the raw hunger in Jon’s voice didn’t bring his own cock back to life. Much more of this, and he would start getting hard again.
He kissed Jon one more time, then lifted himself up and moved down his body. Jon’s hips were anything but still—they moved in a subtle pantomime of fucking, as if he were so turned on he needed to fuck anything, even air. Hell yeah, Matt loved turning him inside out like this.
He gave Jon’s dick another stroke, drawing a throat groan out of him. He started to lean down, but paused.
“Just, uh . . . tell me when you’re gonna come.” Matt licked his lips. “Never done this before.”
“I’ll tell you. Don’t worry.” Jon ran a shaky hand through Matt’s hair, and grinned. “Pretty sure you’ll know, but I’ll tell you.”
Matt flashed him a grin, hoping he didn’t look nervous, then pressed a kiss below Jon’s navel. He continued downward, taking his time in part to work up the courage, but also because he loved the way Jon’s muscles contracted beneath his lips, and the way his hips twisted and quivered if Matt touched him just right.
Finally, he ran his tongue around the head of Jon’s cock, grinning to himself as Jon released a long, helpless moan. Equal parts confident and nervous, he took Jon’s cock between his lips, and started exploring and experimenting. This wasn’t his first time sucking dick, but it was his first time doing it completely sober. And his first time going down on Jon. Well, aside from earlier. But the very first time he’d been with a man, Derek had been partially focused on Lisa, so it had been hard to tell who was making him moan.
Matt had Jon all to himself. And yes, he wanted to get Jon off, but he wasn’t in a hurry. For one, he was admittedly still a little nervous about the idea of a mouthful of semen. One minute, he wanted Jon to unload on his tongue. The next, he was edgy about what it would feel like. If he could take it. If he could handle the taste. He knew damn well what cum tasted like, but would a whole load be different than kissing someone after a blowjob or when he’d been curious and tasted his own? Mostly, though, he wanted to take his time and actually explore. He wanted to memorize every vein and contour of the rock-hard cock in his mouth.
He fluttered his tongue against the soft skin of Jon’s balls, and was rewarded with a grunted profanity. When he licked all the way from base to tip, a shudder ran through Jon that made Matt’s head spin. All the while, Jon alternately kneaded Matt’s scalp and tugged at his hair, fingers twitching now and then. His little gasps and whispered curses filled the room.
“Your mouth is amazing.” He pushed in gently. “Fuck, that’s . . . that’s so good.” His hand lifted off Matt’s head. Matt missed the contact, but was admittedly relieved to no longer have that pressure there. Taking a man’s load in his mouth was daunting enough without someone holding him in place. Not that he thought Jon would force him down or choke him, but still.
Jon’s breathing was faster now, ragged and uneven, and Matt knew exactly what that meant. He stroked faster, teased with his tongue, did everything he could think to do to drive Jon closer to that brink.
“Gonna come.” Jon shuddered hard. “God, Matt, that is so good. Keep . . . don’t stop.”
Matt didn’t stop. His apprehension was a distant memory—he wasn’t nervous about taking Jon’s cum now. He wanted it. Every drop.
Jon’s body jerked and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Fuck, I’m coming!” His cock thickened, and a second later hot liquid coated Matt’s tongue. He swallowed without thinking, just in time for another jet of cum to almost gag him. He swallowed that too, though, and ran his tongue around the head a few times before Jon murmured, “No more . . . no more . . .”
Matt lifted himself up. Oh, now that was a sight—Jon breathing hard, one arm over his eyes, the other hand shakily grasping a mound of sheets beside him.
Grinning, Matt eased himself down onto the bed beside him. Jon lowered his arm. When he met Matt’s eyes, he grinned too, and drew him in for a long, lazy kiss.
Well, that answered that question. Matt was definitely bisexual.
And he definitely wanted more of Jon.
Chapter 9
As awkwardly as things had started out with Matt, Jon couldn’t believe they’d actually recovered enough to hook up. He was sure glad they had, though, because sex with Matt had been everything he’d fantasized about and then some.
It had never occurred how hot it might be to hook up with a guy who had loads of experience with women, but hadn’t been with a man before. Someone who knew his way around his own body, and didn’t have the awkward uncertainty that came with being a virgin, but was still doing this for the first time.
No, Matt may not have given head more than once before, but his enthusiasm and curiosity—not to mention the self-assuredness to explore that curiosity—had more than made up for any lack of experience.
And if you want to gain more experience? You are welcome to practice on me.
Beside him, Matt mumbled something, then rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Damn. Gonna fall asleep.”
Jon laughed, resting a hand on Matt’s thigh. “You’re not worn out already, are you?”
“No.” Matt grinned as he traced a fingertip up the middle of Jon’s chest. “Just relaxed and comfortable.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling.” Jon sat up too. “Maybe now I can finally look at your ink.”
Matt lay back, hands behind his head, stretching out and exposing the tattoos on his torso. His sleeves went all the way around except for a thin strip of unmarked skin on the inside of his upper arm, and he had designs over his shoulders, one side of his chest, and around the opposite side of his rib cage. They had obviously not all happened at the same time—some of the lines were a more vivid black, while others had faded slightly. The designs had been skillfully linked together to make one expansive tattoo, but with a close look, Jon could see where one ended and another began. A snake wrapped around his forearm and elbow, and above that, his skin looked like it had been peeled back to reveal robotics instead of bone and muscle. The Japanese cherry blossoms on his pec were dropping petals that seemed to be caught up in the wind and fluttering behind the soaring eagle on his ribs.
“So what do they mean?”
Matt shrugged. “Some don’t mean much except I liked the design.” He tapped the intricate eagle on his ribs. “My family’s coat-of-arms from way back on my mom’s side had an eagle on it.” Then he motioned toward the cherry blossoms. “That was because a friend was practicing some Japanese designs.”
“You let people practice on you?”
“Oh yeah.” Matt waved a hand. “We all do. One of m
y old girlfriends has a Pegasus on her thigh because I was cutting my teeth on bigger designs.”
“And it’s not weird for her? That she’s got her ex-boyfriend’s practice piece forever?”
“Nah.” Matt chuckled. “I’m not sure what her husband thinks of it, but she’s never complained about it.”
“Wow.” Jon paused, scanning over all the tattoos before he stopped at the red and blue abstract design that started between Matt’s collarbones and slid up the sides of his throat. He trailed his fingertips over it. “This one must have hurt.”
Matt nodded. “Even worse than the one on my ribs.”
Jon shuddered. “No, thank you.”
Chuckling, Matt ran the backs of his fingers up Jon’s chest. “It’s not for everyone. There’s no shame in it.”
“That’s good, because . . . I don’t think I’m getting any more.”
Matt shrugged. “Only get one if you want it. And maybe don’t make a bet this time?”
Jon laughed and leaned down to kiss him. “To be fair, that bet did kind of work out in my favor.”
“Hmm, yeah.” Matt smoothed his hair. “Guess it did, didn’t it?”
“Uh-huh. And by the way, you’re welcome to crash here tonight if you want. We’ll have to take off kind of early so I can get to work, but there’s no need to rush out quite yet.”
Matt grinned. “If I stay much longer, I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.”
Jon shivered. “Well when you put it like that, I definitely want you to stay.”
Chuckling wickedly, Matt slid closer. As he moved in for a kiss, his hand up Jon’s thigh. “Careful what you wish for.”
“Bring it on.”
* * *
As it always did, the alarm jarred Jon out of bed at way too early o’clock. After he’d shaved, showered, and dressed, he gave Matt a gentle nudge.
“Hey,” he said. “I have to leave in half an hour.”
“’kay.” Matt stirred, rubbing his eyes, and sat up. “You mind if I grab a shower before I go?”
“Not at all.” Jon pressed a kiss to his temple. “I’ll get the coffee going.”
He went into the kitchen, and Matt joined him ten minutes later. His dark hair was damp and finger-combed into some semblance of order. Jon liked that look on him. Then again, he had yet to see a look he didn’t like on Matt. So far, he’d decided his favorite was “right on the edge and thrusting for all he was worth.” The memory sent a prickle of goose bumps down his spine. Missionary had never really been his thing, but with Matt? Oh fuck yeah it was.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“Sure. Thanks.”
Jon poured him a cup. As they stood in the kitchen with their steaming mugs, Matt didn’t say much. At first, Jon assumed he was tired. Who wouldn’t be? After three rounds of sex before they’d finally collapsed around two in the morning for not enough sleep, Jon would sure as hell be dragging all day.
But every time he looked at Matt, he couldn’t help thinking there was more to it. It wasn’t just the fatigue of someone who might’ve stayed up later than he should have. Jon got the impression Matt had slept even less than he had, and the tautness in his jaw, the way his shoulders were bunched, how he avoided eye contact more than before—it all painted a picture that looked distinctly like regret.
Jon sipped his coffee. “Hey, you sure you’re all right?”
Matt nodded, but didn’t look at him.
“Matt.” He kept his tone gentle. “What’s up?”
The long sigh made his heart sink. Matt put his coffee cup aside and ran his hand through his damp hair. “Look, I had a great time last night. I really did.” With a halfhearted laugh, he added, almost more to himself, “It was amazing.”
Jon didn’t laugh. He knew what was coming. “But?”
Matt sighed. “After you went to sleep, I got to thinking. About everything.”
That explained why he looked like death warmed over. “Okay?”
“And I’m still kind of overwhelmed by . . . everything, honestly.” Matt absently rubbed the back of his neck. “It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but suddenly rethinking my sexuality is really fucking weird.”
“Rethinking it?”
“Yeah, I . . . I mean, the punchline is that this is still a really new thing for me, and I think I need to take some time and get my head around it.”
“Oh.”
Matt met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to jerk you around. I just . . . like I said, it’s overwhelming.”
Overwhelming? Now? He’d been a hundred percent enthusiastic last night, sucking cock like a champ and fucking Jon like he couldn’t get enough. And in between, when they’d been lying together, kissing and bantering, he’d still seemed completely onboard. What the hell had changed?
But Jon just nodded. “I guess I can understand that.”
“So I’m gonna go. I . . .” He dropped his gaze and pursed his lips as if he weren’t sure how to finish the thought.
“I need to go too.” Jon put his coffee cup in the sink. “Just, uh, you know where to find me if you change your mind.”
The subtle, unenthusiastic nod told him not to hold his breath.
Neither of them said anything on the way out of the condo. Jon locked the door behind them, and they each got into their respective cars. By the time Jon had on his seatbelt and had turned on the ignition, Matt was gone.
Jon sat in the car for a minute, staring out the windshield as he gathered his thoughts. Matt being hung up about his sexuality was strange to him. On one hand, he understood a certain amount of denial. Being a scared teenager who’d finally figured out he was gay had been terrifying. And he could certainly understand if Matt was nervous about coming out. Maybe even scared, depending on how he thought his family would take it. Even adults didn’t usually relish the idea of alienating their families.
But sleeping with Jon and coming out were two entirely different things. Was he worried Jon wouldn’t be discreet? They didn’t even know the same people, so who was he going to tell?
It seemed more like Matt was struggling internally. Like he hadn’t even gotten to the point of thinking about telling other people—he was still trying to accept he was queer.
In the heat of the moment, while he’d been sucking Jon’s dick or fucking him into the mattress, he’d seemed pretty damn okay with the prospect of getting it on with a guy. Now? Not so much.
Jon shook his head, put the car in gear, and pulled out of the parking space. As he headed for the base, he figured if he were suddenly attracted to women, it would be surprising, but not exactly a crisis. Were straight guys really that hung up on being straight? Funny—everyone acted like it was the queers who were obsessed with who they wanted to bang.
And why was he so worked up over this anyway? Usually he was the one who had to gently remind a one night stand or a weekend fling that he wasn’t interested in more.
Which . . . he wasn’t. He didn’t want relationships or romance or a white picket fences. Not with Matt. Not with anyone. He just wanted more of the mind-blowing sex they’d had. Matt may not have had a lot of experience with men, but he was obviously no virgin, and he’d left Jon satisfied and aching for more. When was the last time he’d hooked up with someone who was that enthusiastic? Not recently enough that he could attach a name or face to it, that was for sure.
So it wasn’t that he was hurt. He was just disappointed that there’d be no repeat of last night. Sex like that was hard to come by, and this was almost a guarantee that his next few hookups wouldn’t be anything to write home about. Not when they had to follow an act like that.
Jon sighed. He tapped his thumb on the wheel as he followed the familiar route to work.
There was no point in depressing himself over it. He’d been with guys before who had raised the bar for the ones who’d come after, and eventually, someone came along who was up for the challenge.
Which meant that eventually, someone would come
along and make Matt a distant memory.
Eventually.
Chapter 10
Matt drummed his fingers nervously on the table. Lisa was only five minutes late, but since he’d been at the coffee shop for half an hour, it felt like she was much later. He didn’t know why he’d gotten here so early. Nerves, maybe.
He hadn’t seen her since the night she and her boyfriend had invited him into their bed. It wasn’t that he’d been avoiding her or anything, though. She was busy, he was busy, and sometimes they were lucky to see each other more than once or twice a month. This morning, though, he’d needed someone to talk to, and whenever that happened, his mind went straight to her.
Need to talk—LMK when you’re free, will buy coffee.
Despite being busy as hell, she’d responded in minutes, and they’d arranged to meet this morning. Sometimes it could take days or even weeks for them to schedule something, but somehow, when he desperately needed her, she always came through. His karmic debt to her probably rivaled his financial debts.
He checked his watch again. She was eight minutes late now, but as he lifted his gaze, movement outside caught his eye, and he turned to see her striding down the sidewalk toward the coffee shop’s door. When she walked in, he was relieved, but also doubly nervous. No slipping out and pretending he’d forgotten or something. Not that he’d do that to her, especially since he was the one who’d all but begged her to come. He was just wound up and irrational.
She came to the table and hugged him like she always did, and he kissed her cheek. “Hey, honey. Sorry I’m a little late.”
“Don’t worry about it. I appreciate you coming on short notice.”
“Matt. Sweetheart.” She pulled back and met his gaze, smiling warmly. “You know I’ll drop anything if you of all people are willing to admit you need to talk.”
He chuckled. “Gee, thanks.”
“I’m just saying. Now.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the counter, which only had two people waiting in line. “I’m going to go grab some tea.” She dropped her gigantic handbag on the chair across from him, and tugged out her also-oversized wallet. “You want anything?”