Pounding Skin

by L. A. Witt

  “Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll play it cool for a while. The best thing is probably to just let him call the shots, you know? When he’s ready to call this something else, then we will.”

  “Well.” She grinned, patting his arm. “From the way you’re smiling when you talk about him, and from everything you’ve said, I doubt he’s going to keep you waiting much longer.”

  Matt’s heart fluttered, but he tried not to let it show. Or get his hopes up. “We’ll see what happens. Right now? I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  Lisa gave his arm another little squeeze. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed, sweetie. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, so whatever he’s doing, tell him to keep doing it.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll pass the message along.”

  And yeah, I hope he keeps doing what he’s doing.

  Because yeah, I am happier than I’ve been in years.

  Chapter 27

  Jon left Nate’s around 2300 on Sunday night. Between helping him move Caleb’s crap out of the house, refereeing when Caleb decided to show his face, and trying to be the moral support his best friend needed, he was exhausted.

  As he drove over to Matt’s place, he couldn’t help comparing his relationship with Matt to Nate and Caleb’s. It wasn’t that he thought Matt was sneaking around like Caleb had been. Hell, they’d never even agreed to be exclusive or anything. If he found out Matt was fucking other guys, Jon would have been relieved, not pissed off. Every indicator that they were a casual thing was fine by him.

  But . . . they were a casual thing, right? Or were they getting too close? Too intimate? Setting themselves up for an ending like Nate and Caleb?

  Of course not. That was ridiculous. They’d agreed from the start that this was sex and nothing more, and Matt hadn’t made any noise about changing that. Besides, he’d said himself this was all new for him. He’d never been with a man, and he liked the relaxed arrangement. All the sex he wanted so he could explore sharing a bed with a man, with none of the bullshit that came with being with someone. Bullshit like being cheated on.

  Jon squirmed. He needed to see Matt. Desperately.

  And totally not because he’d started dreading the nights when he slept alone. No, he wanted Matt and some of that hot, casual, no-strings sex they’d been having from the start. He wanted to reassure himself that they were still exactly what they’d set out to be—fuck buddies. Insatiable, adventurous fuck buddies.

  Like always, the second he was through the door, Jon couldn’t keep his hands off Matt. It was just like that first night, when he’d waited forever while Matt wrapped things up at the shop. As soon as the door was closed, Matt had him up against the wall, tangled up in a deep, hard kiss as their growing erections rubbed together.

  Matt broke the kiss and met his gaze with wide eyes. “You’re frisky tonight.”

  Jon grinned. “You’re not?”

  The surprise lingered for a second, but then Matt returned the grin as he slid his hands down over Jon’s ass. “I didn’t say that.”

  And his kiss didn’t say it either. Matt was as hungry and needy as Jon. His tongue demanded access to Jon’s mouth—which Jon enthusiastically granted—and his hands were all over the place. At first, both men just felt each other up, groping and pawing, but as soon as Matt untucked Jon’s shirt, it was game on.

  “God, I want you,” Matt breathed as he slid his palms up Jon’s back. “My hand has just not been getting the job done the last couple of nights.”

  Jon shivered and cupped Matt’s ass while he kissed up and down Matt’s tattooed neck. “Likewise. I fucking . . .” He trailed off, then found himself too busy kissing Matt’s skin to finish the thought. All that mattered was how bad he wanted Matt right then.

  Which gave him pause.

  Are we getting too close?

  He cupped Matt’s crotch, both of them groaning as he kneaded the thick erection through denim.

  It’s not you I need. It’s this.

  He kissed Matt harder. Yeah. That was it. He needed sex. He needed a man so they could turn each other on and get each other off. If not Matt, any hot guy. Matt just happened to be exceptionally good at this. And he seemed to like everything Jon did too. That didn’t have to mean anything beyond the obvious—they were fucking amazing in bed together.

  No one kisses the way you do.

  He shoved that thought away so hard, he physically broke away, pulling his lips from Matt’s.

  Matt tensed. “What’s—”

  Jon kissed his neck, and Matt’s question faded into a moan. “Clothes off,” Jon panted. “So we can . . . so I can . . .”

  Sex. I need sex.

  Matt nudged him toward the bedroom. “Something tells me you need to get fucked tonight. Real bad.”

  It hadn’t crossed Jon’s mind—he hadn’t cared who was on top as long as somebody was getting pounded tonight—but now that Matt had said . . . yeah. “You have no idea.”

  “Then you better get naked and get on your hands and knees while I put on a condom.”

  Jon moaned. Matt may have had limited experience with men, but it didn’t show, especially not anymore. He was confident and demanding, and Jon was absolutely ready to get on his hands and knees and offer up his ass.

  In the bedroom, they shed their clothes, and Jon got on the bed.

  “Fuck me,” he whispered, gripping handfuls of sheets. “God, Matt . . .”

  “I will. Give me a sec.” Foil tore.

  Jon squeezed his eyes shut. It felt like days, but finally Matt had on the condom, and he knelt behind Jon. His lubed fingertips brushed Jon’s hole.

  “No.” Jon shook his head, clawing at the sheets. “Not fingers. Fuck me. Now.”

  Matt laughed wickedly, the sound of a man who had the patience to tease Jon until he burst into flames. “Just making sure you’re nice and slick for me.” He pushed in two fingers, the sudden invasion making Jon’s breath catch and his eyes water. He rocked back, searching for more, but after only a couple of strokes, Matt pulled his fingers free.

  Then came blunt pressure. Jon bit his lip, stunned he didn’t come just from the head of Matt’s cock pushing against him. And that moment of penetration? Oh, sweet Jesus, yes. Matt was right—this was exactly what Jon needed tonight. To be fucked into oblivion.

  Matt carefully worked himself in, but Jon was too impatient.

  “Harder,” he murmured.

  Matt picked up a little speed.

  “Harder.”

  “Love it when you beg,” Matt purred, and rode him hard, driving that thick cock into him until his eyes watered and he could barely remember how to breathe, and it still wasn’t enough.

  “Harder, Matt,” he begged through his teeth. “Fuck, hard—oh God yeah!”

  Groaning, Matt shoved him all the way down to the mattress, and he fucking plowed him. Jon couldn’t move. His cock was trapped between his body and the sheets, the friction making him dizzy, and all he could do was lie there and take Matt’s deep, hard thrusts while the bed protested and the headboard slammed against the wall. Jon’s senses were overloaded. Everything tangled up—pain and pleasure, sight and sound—until his mind was swirling and his body was humming with pure excruciating bliss.

  Jon clenched so tight that Matt’s dick felt ten times thicker, and he tried to cry out that he was coming, but no air would move, and all he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and hold onto the bed for dear life.

  Finally, he found his voice. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, breathing so hard he could barely form words. “Oh God, Matt, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—” He gasped. Shuddered. And Matt thrust in just as Jon’s orgasm took over, and everything went white. Matt pounded him hard and deep while stars exploded behind Jon’s eyelids, and then cried out something deliciously dirty—Jon couldn’t understand the words, but he knew it was filthy—and shuddered over the top of Jon’s body.

  Matt kissed the back of Jon’s neck and moaned something that was probably suppose
d to be words, but ended up just being a throaty sound of unmistakable satisfaction. Jon grinned into the pillowcase. I agree, Matt. I agree.

  Matt pulled out, and somehow the two of them got upright long enough to clean up before tumbling into bed again. At least Matt had had the foresight to toss a towel over the wet spot Jon had left. Not that Jon would’ve cared at this point. His ass was throbbing and his body was aching, and he felt spectacular. Matt was right—he’d needed to be fucked tonight. Good and hard, just the way Matt always did it.

  Something tightened in Jon’s gut. Yeah, he’d needed the kind of sex he and Matt liked to have, but that didn’t mean he’d specifically needed Matt.

  Right?

  * * *

  Damn it, he couldn’t get Nate out of his head. The pain in his eyes. The way he’d broken when reality had finally come crashing in.

  Jon’s skin prickled. If Nate and Caleb’s marriage couldn’t stand the test of time, whose could? Sure, his own parents were still married after forty some-odd years. So were Nate’s, even after his dad’s first marriage had failed. But were they the exception, not the rule? What guarantee did he have that he wouldn’t invest all that time, emotion, and energy into someone, only to come home early one day and bust him in bed with someone else?

  “Hey, you still with me?” Matt propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down at Jon.

  “Yeah.” Jon made himself smile. “I’m still here.”

  Concern creased Matt’s brow. “Something wrong?”

  No. No, everything here is exactly the way it needs to be.

  He caressed Matt’s face.

  I’m just scared out of my mind that’ll change.

  He swallowed. “Listen, there’s . . .” He avoided Matt’s gaze for a second. “There is something I . . . I want to clear the air, I guess.”

  Matt shifted on his elbow, brow furrowed. “Okay?”

  Jon pulled in a breath. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. Which is great—I’m not complaining. But I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  Matt gave a subtle nod. Go on.

  “At the end of the day,” Jon said, “I’m just not a relationship guy. I like sex. I like friends.” He shook his head. “Anything else just leads to shit I don’t want in my life.”

  “Like what happened to Nate.” Matt’s tone didn’t offer anything beyond the words themselves. “Getting cheated on. That sort of thing.”

  Jon nodded. “Not that I think either of us would ever cheat, but I mean . . . Nate didn’t think Caleb would either. I just can’t imagine committing that hard to someone, only to have it all blow up later, you know?”

  Matt studied him for a moment, but slowly, he nodded again. “Yeah, I get that.”

  “So, you’re okay with it?”

  “Sure. I knew what I was getting into.” Matt paused, a faint and not terribly convincing smile pulling at his lips. “Besides, this is my first time really doing anything with a man, and I’m still figuring out what I want. I wasn’t looking for anything serious with a woman, and I’m not looking for anything with a guy.” He shifted his weight. “Not right now.”

  Jon inclined his head. “If you’re not okay with it, just—”

  “It’s okay.” Matt kissed him softly, then smiled for real. “Quit worrying. It’s fine.”

  “Okay. Okay, good.” He drew Matt in and let the kiss linger this time.

  Cool relief rushed through him. Thank God. They were on the same page. Everything was fine. He’d just been rattled by Nate’s sudden breakup, and needed to make sure things were okay—and not too serious—with Matt.

  Holding Matt close, letting this lazy kiss evolve into something much more passionate, Jon was so much more relaxed now. He could dive in headlong and just enjoy this instead of being distracted at every turn by his nagging worries that Matt might want more, because he didn’t. It was all good now. This wasn’t anything serious. Nothing that ran the risk of crashing and burning and hurting like hell the way Nate and Caleb’s marriage had.

  And thank God, Matt was fine with that.

  Chapter 28

  Scratch that—maybe Matt wasn’t fine with it.

  As Jon snored softly beside him, Matt stared at the wall. They’d both dozed off after the second round of scorching hot sex, but now Matt was wide awake. He couldn’t get their conversation out of his head.

  It was basically the same conversation they’d had when this had all started, but it didn’t feel right to have it now. In the beginning, laying down the rules that they were fuck buddies and nothing more hadn’t been an issue.

  But after he’d spent the afternoon gushing to Lisa about how things were going, how close he’d felt to Jon, how their casual thing had sneakily turned into something that gave him butterflies like nothing he’d ever experienced . . . no. It wasn’t like that at all. In Jon’s eyes—the same eyes that had looked at him on New Year’s Eve—this was, always had been, and always would be . . . nothing.

  Matt’s chest ached. He tried to figure out where they’d misread each other. If it was really nothing, then what the hell had made him think it was something?

  From the start, this thing between them had been easy. The sex, of course, but everything else too. It didn’t have to mean anything that they’d also become good friends. That there was a degree of intimacy between them that Matt hadn’t realized he’d been missing. It shouldn’t have meant anything that Jon had come to Thanksgiving with him. The whole idea had been for Matt to come out with a “boyfriend” who wouldn’t actually be around for very long. That way if things had blown up in his face, at least it wouldn’t make his relationship weird.

  Except it hadn’t blown up in his face, and it had kind of made things weird with Jon. He’d been so much more supportive than Matt had expected. He’d charmed the hell out of Matt’s family. Watching him interact with his mom and his siblings had given Matt a warm feeling he’d never had before. Like Jon fit in with the Huffman family. Like it made perfect sense for him to be sitting there alongside Matt at Mom’s dining room table.

  And then there was New Year’s.

  Since that night, he hadn’t been able to think about their midnight kiss without smiling like an idiot. Now he just wanted to cry. Lying there next to Jon after they’d reiterated that this was still just casual and physical, Matt pushed back the lump in his throat. He should’ve told himself not to read too much into that look, or the fact that Jon hadn’t been able to wait until 12:00 for that New Year’s kiss, but . . . God, it hurt. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, hearing Jon tell him that this thing they had still meant nothing, but it was a fucking shock. This whole time, while Matt had been quietly realizing that this was what a relationship was supposed to feel like, Jon had kept his feet firmly planted at casual sex. At all of it adding up to nothing.

  Matt reminded himself this was just a wakeup call. Something to make him realize he’d been reading too much into everything. After all, this was the first time he’d ever been with a man, so he was probably just getting attached to the novelty of his first boyfriend.

  Except . . . not a boyfriend. Emphatically not a boyfriend.

  The sting in Matt’s eyes surprised him. Except . . . not really. He was hurt. He’d let himself get in too deep, and Jon had stopped him in his tracks by reiterating that all they were to each other was dicks and holes.

  How?

  How the fuck was this nothing to Jon if it had turned into everything for Matt?

  And what the fuck do I do now?

  * * *

  Matt was restless. He needed to think. To sort all this shit out. He needed an outlet. Being home alone threatened to make him stir crazy, so he drove to Skin Deep to get some sketching done with the comfortable background noise of tattoo needles and blasting music.

  When he arrived, Lucas and Pete were loitering upfront, throwing curious glances toward the side room. The buzzing from behind the open doorway told him someone was getting inked, and process o
f elimination said it was Colin doing the tattooing.

  Matt cocked his head. “What’s going on?”

  Pete gestured with his thumb and said in a hushed voice, “Colin’s finishing Daniel’s tattoo.”

  Matt straightened, craning his neck toward the side room. “He is? Finally?”

  They both nodded, and instead of diving into his sketchbook like he’d planned, he joined them in their semi-anxious waiting. The scene must have been hilarious to anyone else. They probably looked like three dads outside the maternity ward, but whatever. Everyone in the shop was eager to see the intricate back piece finally finished.

  Colin had started it before he and Daniel had even begun dating, and it had taken ages to get to this point. The tattoo itself—the group of ancient gods from various pantheons—had evolved, growing increasingly complex as Colin added details. It probably would’ve been finished months ago, but as Daniel’s ship prepared to deploy, he’d been away off and on, plus he’d been working some long shifts, so there hadn’t been time.

  Now, with Daniel’s deployment closing in fast, they were finally finishing it, and the whole damn shop was on pins and needles.

  Matt had never gotten the full story about what this ink meant to Daniel, only that it was deeply personal. More than once, he’d overheard him and Colin talking about his estranged family while Colin tattooed him. In fact, that was the only time he’d ever heard Daniel talk about his family. It was like there was something cathartic about the tattooing process or the design itself that let him vent about the bigoted assholes who’d abandoned him for being gay. Matt had never asked. It was none of his business. He just hoped like hell this tattoo was everything Daniel wanted it to be. Not that he had much doubt, given who the artist was.

  The buzzing stopped.

  Matt, Lucas, and Pete all twisted toward the side room as Colin sat back.

  “Okay.” Colin released a long breath. “It’s done.” His eyes scanned it, as if scrutinizing it for any detail he’d missed. Then, more to himself than the onlookers, he murmured, “It’s done.”

  Daniel pushed himself up on his forearms. “I get to see it before you tape it up, right?”