by J. M. Colail
Jack pulled away far too soon, glancing in the direction of Brenda’s. Someone was headed this way. “We have got to stop meeting like this in parking lots.”
Tell me about it, Julian thought, adjusting himself as discreetly as possible. “I concur.” He watched the approaching figure long enough to be sure it was his sister, then smiled. “That’s my ride. See you tomorrow.”
Chapter Eight
JULIAN WAS in bed, having a really excellent dream involving a few stolen kisses, some groping, a serenade, and the promise of a lunch date, when Roz popped her head in the door and said, “Rise and shine, Beanstalk. Big day today; you don’t want to be late.”
His eyes snapped open as he realized that it was not, in fact, a dream at all (except for some of the creative embellishments about the groping). He had asked Jack over for lunch, and Jack had accepted, and Roz was leaving for work, which meant they’d have the house to themselves.
Paralyzed, Julian’s mind could only hover between excited and downright terrified.
As if she was reading his mind, Roz came in and flopped beside him on the bed. “Relax. He wants you, you want him…. God knows you’d be easier to live with if you got laid sometime this decade….”
“You’re mean,” Julian mumbled into his pillow. “Where’s the sister who’s nice to me?”
“You upgraded to a sister who’ll get you laid.” Kissing his cheek, she stood again. “I went shopping, stocked the fridge. I won’t be home until five, so the house is yours. You do plan on taking advantage of that, right?”
If she could see the tips of his ears, she’d have all the answer she needed. Not that she’d really need an answer, after what she’d probably seen and overheard last night. “If I get lucky, I’ll give you the details later.”
“Atta boy.” Roz ruffled his hair one last time, and he heard her footsteps retreating down the stairs.
Breathing deeply, Julian sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and pushed himself to his feet. He could do this. “Hey, Roz—”
“Your clothes are in the bathroom!” she yelled from the kitchen.
“I love you!”
“Safe sex!” Roz shouted.
Julian rolled his eyes. Knowing Roz, she’d sneaked in while he was sleeping and stocked his night table with condoms and flavored lubricant. “Bye!”
Grabbing a towel from the hall closet, he padded barefoot into the bathroom. Sure enough, Roz had left a pair of jeans out for him—the very jeans she’d forbidden him from wearing yesterday, in fact—as well as a blue striped button-down with a note pinned to it. Untucked, sleeves rolled up, it said. Leave the top two buttons undone.
She hadn’t left him any socks, he noticed. Or underwear.
Shrugging, Julian stripped out of his boxers and started the shower running. He figured he had an hour and a half before Jack arrived, so he wasn’t in any hurry. He stepped under the spray with a sigh, running through recipes in his head. He didn’t want to do anything too fancy; it would seem like he was trying too hard. Pasta, maybe? No, that was too casual. He could dress it up with some kind of bread and salad, but that was too much, wasn’t it?
Maybe a nice stew, he mused, reaching for the shampoo. Judging by the frost on the bathroom window, it was pretty cold out there. He’d been meaning to try out a new goulash recipe, and he was pretty sure he had all the ingredients, even if Roz hadn’t stocked up.
Rinsing his hair, Julian had just decided that maybe it was about time for a haircut when a door slammed downstairs. Roz had probably forgotten her lunch again. That would make the second time this week.
Thinking nothing of it, he reached for the soap with one hand, adjusting the water temperature with the other. Roz always claimed that hot showers dried out her skin and made her feel drowsy, but she was a bit of a freak, so he didn’t entirely discount the possibility that she actually just liked lukewarm showers. Julian, on the other hand, appreciated the luxury after way too many hospital showers.
He was just contemplating stepping out to grab himself a clean washcloth when he heard the bathroom door open.
“Hey, Roz, could you pass me the—”
The shower curtain opened. It was not, in fact, Roz in his bathroom.
“You’re early,” he said dumbly, flushing to his navel.
Jack’s gaze was frankly appraising, running from head to toe and lingering appreciatively in the middle. “Actually, it looks like I’m right on time.” Julian could have drowned in the look he was getting. Especially since he was pretty sure his mouth was gaping open and the shower was still running. “Your sister left a note on the kitchen table.”
Julian swallowed hard, hyperaware of the way he was being appraised. His cock stood up and took notice. His brain was a little behind the game at this time. “What?”
Jack held up a piece of paper so he could see.
Beanstalk:
I thought you might need a little nudge, so I changed the clocks an hour and a half and waited around for Jack to show up. Surprise!
Love, Roz
Oh. Julian finished reading the note and swallowed again. Jack tossed it aside and reached for the hem of his shirt.
Fuck that. He’d got this far on Roz’s meddling; he could do the rest himself. Julian reached out and grabbed Jack’s wrist and yanked him under the hot spray.
Jack clearly hadn’t shaved since Julian had seen him at the pub, and what he figured had to be three days’ worth of beard growth on his face rasped against Julian’s neck as he struggled with the now-wet denim of Jack’s jeans. “Hello,” Jack said, biting down on Julian’s collarbone and sliding one hand up and down the plane of his stomach. “I think we skipped that part.”
What? Julian thought blindly as Jack scored a thumbnail over one of his nipples. Oh, right, the greeting part. “I don’t know about you, but parts of me remembered.” He managed to wriggle his hands down the back of Jack’s jeans and contented himself with getting a good grope in.
Jack’s hands fisted in his hair for a moment, and the larger man backed him up against the shower wall. The contrast between the cool tile and Jack’s hot body pressed against him short-circuited something in his brain, and that was before Jack crushed his mouth down over his, licking and biting at his lips and tongue, tugging at his hair and rubbing their groins together.
It was all a bit much for Julian, especially when Jack’s jeans reached critical saturation and started sliding down his hips of their own accord. Julian felt it the second Jack’s thick cock slipped free of its confines to press against his stomach and the sensation went right to his dick. He could think of nothing he wanted more at that moment than to take Jack into his mouth and make him make the kind of noises that had haunted Julian’s sleep for two weeks.
It was a forward move for him, but then again, Jack was the one who’d purposely walked in on him in the shower. What the hell? His knees were already giving out, anyway. Julian slid down the tile wall, trailing his fingers over Jack’s nicely defined stomach as he went, fingers skittering a bit when he reached the scar on the right-hand side of Jack’s abdomen. When he was eye-level with Jack’s crotch—give or take a few inches—Julian dug his hands into the wet denim and pulled the jeans the rest of the way down, sharply. Leaving Jack partially immobilized by the fabric around his ankles, Julian leaned forward, grasped Jack’s hips in both hands, and guided his cock to his lips.
Jack’s hands twisted in his hair almost immediately, and the nearly inhuman sound Julian had been hearing in his imagination for two weeks filled his ears as he ran his tongue around the head of Jack’s cock. Just tasting the smooth, hot skin like that wasn’t nearly enough. Holding Jack’s hips steady with both hands, Julian surged forward, letting the thick member slide into his throat.
“Jesus Christ.”
Julian chanced a look up and found Jack’s gaze fixed on him, smoldering. His mouth was open, his dark hair plastered to his head by the steady stream of hot water still spraying from the shower head as he
slowly thrust in and out. Julian breathed hard around his mouthful when Jack’s fingers disentangled from his hair to trace down his cheeks and outline his lips.
Long before Julian was ready, Jack pulled away sharply, reached down and pulled him to his feet. He pressed Julian up against the tile wall again, reached between them and grabbed both of their cocks in one oversized hand.
Julian’s eyes rolled back and his knees nearly buckled. Jack managed to keep him vertical by virtue of the fact that there wasn’t actually any room for Julian to go anywhere. “I wanna taste your mouth when you come,” Jack said, tugging his earlobe into his mouth. “That all right with you?”
He’d have answered verbally, if that were physically possible, but he couldn’t seem to make his mouth do anything except latch onto Jack’s with all due enthusiasm, digging his fingers into Jack’s bicep. “Uhhh….” His feet slipped a bit on the tile floor, and he shot his left hand out to steady himself on the ledge.
Something clattered to the ground, and Julian jerked in Jack’s grip. His fist closed reflexively. What on Earth…?
Jack licked into his mouth, then pulled away briefly, blinking. “We need—”
Julian regarded the bottle he’d accidentally grasped with a blank expression. Lube. Roz had put lube in his shower. “This do?”
“Been planning this?” Jack panted, eyes glazed.
“Someone has.” Julian flicked the cap open and turned the bottle over, drizzling the cool liquid over their erections.
Jack slid his hand up and down their shafts, holding Julian’s gaze evenly. Panting, Julian slouched backward, leaning his head against the wall. He ran his eyes down Jack’s body, taking in the well-defined chest and abdomen, down to the lazy grip Jack had on their cocks and moaned. “That kiss you wanted,” he said. “Is now a good time for you?”
Jack’s face darkened with lust. He leaned his left hand up against the shower tile and scraped his stubbled jaw across Julian’s cheek, spreading fire down his spine. A wet tongue snaked out and traced a path from the pulse point in his neck up to the shell of his ear. “There’s no hurry,” he said languidly, breath rasping across Julian’s skin.
“Are you kidding?” Julian groaned, unable to resist the urge to thrust up into Jack’s fist any longer. “I’ve had a hard-on for you for two weeks.” He reached down and added his hand to Jack’s, noting how small it appeared in comparison.
“Shit.” Jack’s eyes flicked down to their joined hands, then back up to Julian’s face. Breath hitching, he pressed his forehead against Julian’s, then sealed their mouths together hotly.
Julian kissed him furiously, not bothering to hold back the whimpers that were fighting to come out. “Jack—”
“Do it,” Jack bit out, closing his teeth around Julian’s lower lip.
“Fuck, yes,” he breathed. The muscles in his body tightened, his skin suddenly too small. “Jack—”
The world narrowed to the two of them, the pounding water and the soft sounds of flesh on flesh. Julian arched his back, dug the fingers of his left hand into Jack’s bicep and came, vision blackening at the edges. Half a second later he felt Jack’s hot semen spurt against his stomach.
Slumping backward, Julian noticed for the first time that the water was getting cold. He reached forward and turned the spray on them briefly, cleaning their stomachs and legs before shutting off the water.
“Well. That was unexpected.”
Jack looked down at his sopping wet jeans, then back up again, a wry smile on his face. “You’re telling me.” He stepped the rest of the way out of them awkwardly. “I don’t suppose I could borrow a towel?”
Mouth quirking up in a half-smile, Julian pulled back the shower curtain. “I don’t know. I kind of like you wet and naked.”
Jack bent to pick up his jeans. Not-so-covertly, Julian checked out his ass. Nice. “Considering there’s no chance any of your clothes will fit me, I don’t think you need to worry about the naked part for a while. A gracious host would do the noble thing and stay naked with me.”
Gee, what a hardship that would be. “As long as I don’t have to cook any food unprotected, that should be fine.”
As if on cue, Jack’s stomach rumbled. “This theoretical food you speak of….”
Laughing, Julian grabbed his towel. “Roz went shopping. God only knows how that turned out, but we should have something to eat, at least.” He eyed Jack head to toe again, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “You’d better stay there until I grab you a towel, or Roz’ll kill me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack promised idly.
Not if Julian had anything to say about it. He dried himself quickly, trying not to blush as he felt Jack’s gaze linger appreciatively on his ass.
Ten minutes later (after having conscientiously closed the blinds on the first floor, just in case, and tossing Jack’s jeans in the dryer), the two of them wandered into the kitchen. “How did Roz get you to sleep in until one, anyway? Even if you did think it was eleven-thirty….”
Julian shrugged, making his way over to the fridge. The towel he’d slung around his waist for the sake of decency flapped around his legs. “I don’t suppose you like—”
He stopped, staring at the fridge’s interior.
“What?” Jack prodded.
Lost for words, Julian opened the fridge the rest of the way and stepped out of Jack’s line of vision, showing off the contents. “This is what happens when my sister goes grocery shopping.”
The fridge was stocked, all right. With fresh strawberries, raspberries, sliced pineapples, whipped cream and chocolate sauce. There was a bottle of sparkling wine on the rack. A glance at the counter revealed a jar of honey and two spoons and a note that said, Check the freezer.
Julian did, revealing ice cream and three different flavors of popsicles.
“Damn,” Jack said, impressed. “She thought of everything.”
Shaking his head, Julian closed the freezer. As he did so, his eye caught on the box slightly behind the honey. He took a closer look. Wet naps, condoms, and those individual packets of lubricant that were hell on the environment. Thank you, Roz. “I think she expects us to have sex in every room of the house.”
“That’s not so bad,” Jack said. “What’s for eating?”
Julian looked at him sitting there, knees spread, naked but for the towel, and had a few really excellent ideas. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”
Jack flashed him a grin, eyebrows raising. “Looks like,” he said.
Flushing, Julian glanced down. His towel wasn’t going to hold up much longer at this rate, that was for sure. God, it had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that. He could definitely get used to it. “Strawberries and cream?” he suggested.
Half a second later he was pulled sharply downward until he was seated, haphazardly, in Jack’s lap. The towel gave up all attempts to cling to his hips and puddled on the floor.
“Might I suggest we take this somewhere a little more comfortable?”
Julian threaded his fingers in Jack’s damp curls. “Bedroom’s upstairs,” he said a little shyly. It felt frankly ridiculous, considering what they’d just been up to in the bathroom… and were apparently about to continue.
Jack stood and set him on his feet, his gaze drifting down Julian’s body. Then he stalked off toward the stairs, towel slipping dangerously low on his body. When he’d reached the stairwell, he turned back. “Bring the strawberries.”
“DON’T MOVE them,” Jack instructed, and Julian’s arms shivered at the command. He curled his hands around the bedposts loosely, closing his eyes halfway, looking down the plane of his body at Jack at his knees.
It was a sight to behold. Jack had strawberry smeared across his mouth and chest, matching in hue to the red blotches that covered Julian from his lightly defined pectorals to the insides of his splayed thighs. Julian had to bite his lip hard to keep from squirming as Jack dribbled one last, thin trail of warm honey ac
ross one nipple and down his sternum to his navel, and even then he could feel his muscles twitching involuntarily. Jack drew one finger through the sticky substance, never taking his gaze from Julian’s, and licked it off slowly. The scents of sex and honey filled the air, and Jack’s hands returned to play in the thick syrup.
“God,” Julian groaned, straining into the touch. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him like that, looked at him like that. “Jack, please—”
Ignoring him, Jack dipped his head and followed the trail from Julian’s nipple down his chest and across his hip, nipping lightly at the curve of it, cleaning every drop of honey from his skin. Julian wanted to wiggle away and arch into it at the same time. His breath came in shallow pants. “Yes?” Jack asked, running his hand up the inside of Julian’s thigh.
God, what a tease. The problem was, Julian liked it. A lot. Jack’s carefree nature was nothing if not addictive, and it didn’t hurt that he knew his way around the bedroom. Julian got the idea that Jack was a bit of a philanderer, but at that particular moment he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Under Jack’s heated touch he was starting to forget why he’d been single so long in the first place.
The fingers of Jack’s left hand trailed down Julian’s thigh and back and up, sliding into the crease of Julian’s ass. Jack lightly bit the flesh of his thigh.
Julian’s whole body arced as if he’d been electrocuted. “Fuck, what are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?”
Jack rewarded him for his cheek by sliding his index finger closer to Julian’s hole. Julian’s cock jerked, begging to be touched as much as the rest of him, and he moaned, his thighs falling farther open.
Jack breathed in sharply. “Lube,” he demanded.
Julian let go of the headboard and turned the top half of his body, hands shaking as he rummaged in his bedside table for the necessary supplies. He passed them to Jack quickly, noting that Jack’s hands were shaking every bit as noticeably as his own.