by Aly Martinez
His hands roamed freely over my chest and my shoulders, exploring every curve before drifting down to my ass. Fire shot down my back when he gripped both cheeks and pulled them slightly apart before massaging them back together. A deep rumble rolled from his throat.
In a flash, his hands were gone, and so was his mouth.
I reached for his hip, desperate to keep the momentum going, but he shook his head, which forced me to still.
Don’t stop now. Please not fucking now.
“Evan,” I whispered, cautiously lifting a hand to the back of his neck. “Stop overthinking it.”
He stared blankly. But he didn’t move away, so I pressed my luck.
Dropping my other hand between us, I found his thickening cock. Breath hissed from between his teeth when I gently stroked down his length and back again.
His eyes fluttered closed and his head lolled on his shoulders. “Christ, that feels good, Henry.”
Eyes closed.
Still Henry.
My cheeks heated, and a bashful smile played at my lips.
“I’m glad, Evan,” I murmured, placing a soft kiss at the base of his neck.
His head swayed to the side, and I traced the corded muscles with my tongue. His dick jumped in my hand when I grazed my teeth over his earlobe.
A shuddered, “Fuck,” was his only response.
My eyes drifted down in fascination when his hips began to pump into my hand. Every curl deliciously flexed his abs. It was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“You are…” I breathed, glancing up long enough to see that his blue eyes had opened and were locked on me.
“I’m what?”
Everything. Perfection. Mine?
“Gorgeous.”
He stared for a minute, his expression unreadable.
Until.
My back hit the cool tile wall before I could process what the hell had happened, and then he was on me. Every inch of his hard body aligned with mine. I jerked my hand away as our cocks became trapped between us. His demanding mouth covered mine, rendering me immobile and pinning me from head to heel against the shower wall.
His hands rested on either side of my head as his tongue skillfully glided into my mouth. In one smooth movement, he rolled his hips, giving me my first taste of glorious friction. Our moans echoed in a harmony. It wasn’t going to take but a few more before I erupted between us.
“Fist your cock,” he ordered.
It was an outstanding idea, and I eagerly obeyed. I managed to squeeze a hand between our bodies, but I didn’t just grab my own shaft. Opening my hand wide, I pulled us both into my grip. His smooth flesh slid against mine and he cursed in my ear when I started working us together.
My hand squeezed on the upstroke, occasionally twisting so my palm grazed over the sensitive tops of our crowns.
We both kept our heads tilted down, watching intently, our heavy pants mingling.
“Two hands are better,” I suggested.
But, when he didn’t take the bait, I added my other hand into the mix, enabling me to close the circle around both of our cocks.
“Oh, fuck,” he cried nearly immediately.
I wasn’t far behind him in that sentiment.
“Oh, God, Evan,” I breathed when the force of release tore through me.
His soft lips peppered mine as endorphins consumed me. His arm hooked around my waist, keeping me upright as white ropes landed on his stomach.
“Don’t stop,” he groaned against my lips when my hand slowed.
Though he was still supporting the majority of my weight, I replied, “I’ve got you,” and then resumed my rhythm on his shaft.
Slanting my head, I was attempting to take the kiss deeper when the easy reverence in which his mouth was moving started to tighten the vise on my heart. It was the antithesis of the desperation I’d felt with him earlier.
This was almost gentle. Maybe even meaningful. I couldn’t risk reading into it.
It. Him. This connection I felt when his eyes met mine.
It would all be gone soon enough. And, even as his cock in my hand pulsed his release, a weight settled in my stomach. I barely knew the naked man who was absently stroking my back as he rode out the last of his orgasm.
But I knew I wanted to.
I knew that this was more than just the high.
I knew I didn’t want him to leave.
But, most of all, I knew he would.
“You’re longer than I am,” he said, pulling me from my inner pity party.
I smiled and gave him one last gentle tug before letting him go. “You’re thicker. And let’s not forget to mention that you won the genetic lottery. I’d give anything for that body.”
He barked a laugh. “I believe you just had that body.”
My heart leapt in my chest. Was he reminding me of what we just did? The guys I was used to wouldn’t even make eye contact after we finished. Much less compare cocks and reminisce.
“And…it was amazing.” I bit my lip to hide the grin.
Using his arm still wrapped around my back, he tugged me forward and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Good. Now, you need to leave so I can get some sleep.”
Just that fast…my heart dropped.
“Right.” I stepped back under one of the showerheads and did a quick once over on my stomach.
He was still washing himself when I started to climb out, but I froze when my mind reminded me that I was a fucking idiot.
“Soooo,” I drawled. “I don’t actually have anywhere else to go.”
He cocked a questioning eyebrow and continued with the scrub-a-dub-dub routine.
“I mean, I…” Jesus, this is embarrassing. “So, I wasn’t sure how this was going to go down tonight. And I really wanted to spend some time alone with you.”
He motioned his hand in a circle for me to speed it up. “Henry, spit it out.”
“I didn’t upgrade your room. This is actually my suite. I just told reception to send you up here. My bags are in the hall closet.”
He remained impassive. “Sharing a room. That’s pretty presumptuous.”
“I prefer to view it as hopeful. I also cashed in, like, a hundred bucks in pennies in the fountain out front and used the wishes from my birthday candles for the next twenty years in order to make tonight happen.”
A white, toothy grin formed on his mouth. There was nothing smooth or sexy about it. It melted me all the same.
After turning the water off, he snagged a towel. “So stay here.”
Break out the banners again!
“There are two bedrooms.”
Just kidding. Pack that shit back up.
I smiled through the disappointment. “You sure you don’t mind?”
He lifted the towel to his head and began scrubbing his dark-brown hair dry. “No. I don’t mind. However, I’m not dumb enough to think that there aren’t any available rooms in this massive hotel. But there’s no point in either one of us hauling our shit somewhere else when there are two perfectly good beds here.” He shrugged.
I guessed under one roof was a start. We could work up to one bed.
“Great. Well, I guess… Goodnight, Evan.”
“Goodnight, Henry.” His lips twitched.
I braced myself for the hasty kiss that usually followed.
It never came.
And, moments later, in nothing but a towel wrapped around my waist, I performed the walk of shame for an empty audience.
One week later…
Me: I got my STD results back today. Negative. Can you send me yours?
Henry: Are you flirting with me?
Me: No.
Henry: Well that’s unfortunate. But…hello to you too, Evan.
It wasn’t the same when he typed my name. I missed the sound of it rolling from his tongue and the sensation of it being breathed against my skin. I missed his quirky jokes and his infectious laugh. I missed the way he looked at me—awe
struck as though I were the superstar, not him. I missed the fire he ignited inside me.
And that was exactly why I hadn’t replied to a single one of his texts over the last week. I was in way over my head.
Henry had left on a bus the morning after our little hookup. He’d knocked on my door to tell me he was leaving, but I hadn’t even had the balls to open it. It was safe to say I was freaking the fuck out. He’d texted me just after I’d landed with Jessica and Tabitha in tow. It was short and to the point but still very much Henry.
How’d the flight go, Maverick?
I would have laughed if I’d been able to remember how to amongst the chaos in my mind.
What the hell had I done, opening myself up to him like that? It was a casual thing. Casual sex. Except nothing was casual about Henry.
Me: Hi. Tests?
Henry: I usually wouldn’t share such personal information with an employee. Do you have any plans to utilize this information?
I blinked down at my phone. He could not be serious.
I quickly began swiping my fingers across the keyboard. I still hadn’t repaired my broken screen, but Henry had left a business phone complete with his number programmed into the contacts on my seat in the cockpit the morning after he’d left. I assumed he’d gotten the idea right about the time he’d realized he’d never asked for my phone number. But it wasn’t like I’d asked for his. I hadn’t needed it since I wouldn’t be calling him and we went through Jackson for travel arrangements.
Not that there had been any of those in the last week, either. At the rate I was going, I’d have to volunteer to fly Jackson’s charters for free just to keep my hours up—and my sanity intact. I loved getting a paycheck, but I was a pilot because I wanted to fly, not sit around watching daytime soaps while waiting for my phone to ring.
I never should have taken the job with Henry.
And I definitely shouldn’t have kissed him, gotten him naked, and then let him blow me.
And I really shouldn’t have wanted more of that so badly I couldn’t sleep at night. Honestly, it pissed me off.
So, over the last week, I’d done the smart thing. I’d avoided him. Every text. Every call. That is until I’d caved, jumping at my very first excuse I had to text him. And I was already regretting it.
Me: Are you kidding me right now? You should probably share this information with your EMPLOYEE regardless how I plan to UTILIZE it. I came in your mouth last weekend without a condom. I don’t think a simple, “Hey I don’t have HIV,” is too much to ask.
I watched the bubble icon at the bottom of my screen blink on and off for several minutes. He was typing. And typing. And, five minutes later, still typing. I expected one hell of a long message.
Henry: I’m clean. I’ll have my doctor send you proof.
“Shit.” I raked an angry hand through my hair. That wasn’t a long message, which meant he’d spent all that time typing and deleting and then retyping that crap.
Me: What did the first draft of that message say?
Henry: Do you need anything else, Evan?
Yep. It was official. I hated seeing my name typed.
Me: What did the first draft of that message say?
Henry: Why does it matter?
Because I’m looking for a reason to keep talking to you. Oh, and I feel guilty for avoiding you all week. And for currently being a dick because I have no fucking idea how to handle the way I’m feeling.
I groaned at myself.
Me: I’m sorry, okay? Any chance you’ll be needing a pilot soon? Maybe we can grab a coffee and talk.
Henry: Talk?
Me: Talk, Henry. AKA: CASUALLY converse.
Henry: How casual are we talking here? Tic-tac-toe on a paper tablecloth? Or bring my STD results and meet you at a seedy motel?
Me: Wow. Okay. Well, clearly, casual is off the table. Just send over the results when you get a chance.
Henry: Jeez, don’t be so sensitive. Fine, here’s your original message… I’ll be passing through San Fran for a few hours tomorrow night. I’d be happy to hand-deliver the results myself.
Me: Bullshit. That’s not long enough.
Henry: Oh, but, Evan, we already established that length is not an issue for me.
I barked a laugh and clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to cover my huge smile even though no one was around. I didn’t want to admit how much I was enjoying finally talking to him again—even if it was just through a text.
Me: Don’t worry. Haven’t forgotten.
Henry: Have you tried to forget?
The corners of my mouth curled upward. That sexy bastard was fishing. Baiting me with a simple question that would give him clear insight into where I stood in regards to him. The only problem was that I didn’t have the answer. It was a tug-of-war that had been battling in my head since we’d met. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted him. My cock grew hard if I so much as thought about him. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d jerked off to the memories of our night together.
That’s where I stood in regards to him. Plain and simple, I wanted him. I might have been straddling some other lines in the process of wanting him. Mainly, the ones that would explain why I didn’t have to be pumping my dick for him to infiltrate my mind.
But I could deal with that later.
Me: Yes. I’ve tried a lot, actually.
The icon at the bottom blinked to show that he was typing…and probably deleting. I watched for a few more seconds before putting him out of his misery.
Me: I tried in the shower the day I got home. It wasn’t as good as our shower.
Me: I tried the next night when I was alone in bed. A bottle of lube and my hand is a sad substitution for your mouth.
Me: I tried again when I got home from the grocery store yesterday. Your lips were on the cover of three magazines. It was torture.
Me: And I’ll probably try tonight because I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself when you show up at my house tomorrow.
His response was immediate.
Henry: So you ARE flirting with me.
I was. Goddammit. I fucking was. I had absolutely no control over it, either. The only thing I could do was remind myself of what this was. And all it could ever be.
Me: Casually, of course. I’ll have the tic-tac-toe board ready.
“Shit. Fuck. Oh my…” My ass was on the couch and Henry was kneeling between my legs. He’d arrived five minutes earlier and this was as far as we’d made it.
No sooner had the door closed than his mouth had landed on mine. And it was just as intoxicating as I remembered. We’d blindly banged against walls and the coffee table before finding the couch. He’d then shoved me down and tossed a piece of paper I vaguely tagged as his STD test results, and then he was on his knees, sucking my length into the back of his throat.
I’d been nervous when I’d heard his car pull up. It hadn’t felt casual at all. It felt like a first date. And, given the opportunity, I probably would have gone all teenage boy and asked if he wanted to watch a movie until I worked up the courage to cop a feel.
This was definitely better. My head couldn’t get muddled when he kept it right where it belonged—in his mouth.
My pants hadn’t even been pushed down. He’d simply popped the button, lowered the zipper, and tugged my cock out. He was still fully dressed, and it was driving me mad. Well, that and the velvet of his tongue as he swirled it around my tip.
“Henry, wait.”
He bottomed out, his lips meeting my root.
“Shit. Fuck. Oh my…”
He glided up and popped me from his mouth. “You already said that, Evan.”
Evan.
I shit you not, my balls drew up in response.
Making a fist in his hair, I roughly dragged him up until his mouth met mine. “Don’t be a smartass while I’m fucking your mouth,” I mumbled between kisses.
His tongue rolled greedily and his denim-covered cock ground against my stomach as
he rocked against me. “Actually, I was fucking you with my mouth. Big difference.”
I trailed my hand up his throat, then gripped his chin to halt his frenzied lips. “You want me to fuck your mouth?”
His pupils dilated with arousal.
I swiped my thumb over his bottom lip and then dipped it between his teeth. There was no hesitation as he began sucking it with gentle pulls that shot directly to my groin.
“It that a yes?” I asked impatiently.
With a simple nod, his flames consumed me once again.
We rushed to the bedroom and stripped ourselves naked, and then I positioned him face up with his head hanging over the edge of my bed. Henry looped an arm around one of my thighs and lifted it until my knee settled by his head. With a tip of his chin to his chest, I gloriously slipped to the back of this throat on a loud curse.
He was a fucking magician. Because never had anyone—woman or man—been able to suck me so deep.
I started to withdraw, but he gripped my bare ass and pulled me back down. His face was hidden between my legs, and I feared I was going to suffocate him, so I allowed his hands to guide my rhythm.
Resting my palms on his chest, I balanced myself and began drilling into his hot mouth. I stared down at Henry’s chiseled, naked body. He had been gorgeous before. But, with his mouth wide as I drove into it, he was unbelievable. Every so often, he gripped my ass, cueing me to switch to shallow glides in order for him to catch his breath. During those moments, he’d tease my head until he was ready again. The sensations were overwhelming, and combined with the visuals of his long, hard cock slapping his stomach with every thrust, I was already teetering on the edge of release.
I very easily could have bent over and sucked him off too, turning our seven into a sixty-nine. But that would have required me to give him a piece of myself. Allowing him the control over me that I refused to ever hand over again. And, given just how much Henry had already thrown me off-kilter, it wasn’t a risk I could afford to take. I’d broken nearly every rule I’d made to protect myself from situations like this. I couldn’t shred the only two I had left and take him inside me. No matter how much my mouth watered to taste him. To feel him in the back of my throat. To return to him the ecstasy he was freely giving me.