by Riley Hart
And he was pissed.
There was a part of him that was relieved too, even if it was only because he could tell Miles to grow up in person.
He stomped like an angry toddler into the other room, as though Miles could see his ridiculous tantrum. Without looking through the peephole, he jerked the door open. Miles’s eyes immediately bore into him, held him, and they were filled with confusion and sadness and maybe a little anger, but Quinn didn’t think about him. No, he was angry at himself…and he was here. At seven on a Saturday morning, he was here.
“You didn’t sleep,” Miles said, and it sort of jerked him out of his anger, made him falter because there was nothing but concern in Miles’s voice. They hadn’t really known one another very long, yet he’d taken one look at Quinn and knew. More than that, it bothered him. It obviously upset Miles.
“No, I didn’t. It’s not because I was pissed off at this guy I know. He’s a real fucking prick, but I was up because I was working.” Liar, liar, liar.
“He knows he’s a prick,” Miles answered, and Quinn already felt his defenses softening. goddamn Miles.
“Then he needs to do something about it. At least if he plans to be in my life. I don’t play games. Not when shit matters.”
Miles sighed and rubbed a hand over his head and, for a moment, Quinn thought he was going to walk away.
“What do you have to be so fucking scared of, Miles? Make me understand.”
“I don’t know!” His voice was rough, louder than it had been a moment before. “I don’t know,” he said more softly this time and then pushed his way into Quinn’s apartment. “Emotions don’t always make sense. They’re not logical.”
In that, Miles was right. Quinn closed the door behind him and dropped his head back, looking at the ceiling. Jesus, what in the fuck were they getting into?
When he turned, he saw Miles standing by the window, looking out over Los Angeles. His hand was flat against the wall beside it as he stared out. “Besides my parents, there are three people in this world who I’ve ever let matter to me—I mean, really fucking matter. Matter enough to influence me.”
Chance, Oliver, and Matt. Quinn knew that. There was a part of him that was jealous about it, too.
“It wasn’t even as though I had a real choice with them—Ollie and Chance, at least. They were always there. They were always a part of my life. I don’t know my world without them. Matt was harder for me because he wasn’t always there. He came after but he was important to Ollie, so he became important to me.”
Because that was the kind of man Miles was. He had a hard exterior but he was soft inside. He cared about people. He cared about his friends, probably more than most people realized. But if Quinn was going to do this with him, if they were going to give this a try, he wouldn’t settle for being second string.
“And? What does that have to do with me? Do you want to keep me separate from your life? We can hide away in our apartments and fuck like crazy, but that’s the extent of it? Do you think I’m going to try and get involved in your friendships with them? Come between you? Jesus, Miles. It wasn’t ever about that. I understand if you want to cancel and I sure as shit am not a dog that is always going to be at your feet. I don’t need to follow you and your boys around but I won’t be a secret either. That’s all I was trying to say. It needs to be a possibility. I spent my life bouncing around from home to home. I didn’t have meaningful relationships. I didn’t matter to those people. I won’t spend my time with someone if I don’t matter to them.”
Miles didn’t look up. In fact, he bowed his head more, keeping his back to Quinn. “You matter to me. That’s why this is so fucking hard. Because you matter and most people don’t.” He turned on Quinn then, his eyes wild like he was standing on the edge. “I’ve never had to juggle someone else, and my friends. I’ve never had to bring someone else in. No one else was important enough.”
“Fuck that,” Quinn replied. He wasn’t going to let Miles take the easy way out of this. He wasn’t going to let him hide behind his friendship. He walked over to Miles then, saw his chest rise and fall through this T-shirt. “Don’t pretend this is about them. This is about you. Grow the fuck up and say what you’re really feeling.”
“Don’t—”
“No. You don’t. You’re in or you’re out. This might have started out just being some random hookup, but we both know that’s not where it is now. I don’t know where the hell it could go. I’m not saying I’m in love with you. I’m not saying I expect a long-term commitment from you. I’m saying we really see where this could go—not just in words, like at Hotel Café, but actions, Miles, or we walk the fuck away.” Because he wasn’t going to let himself get any more involved unless they were on the same page. “What the hell are you so afraid of?”
“Being alone,” Miles gritted out. “Being left behind.” He tried to turn, but Quinn grabbed his wrist and held tightly. There was a flash of anger in Miles’s whiskey eyes. He didn’t think most people stepped up to Miles this way, but Quinn sure as shit would. He might like being dominated when he fucked, but not here.
“You think I’m not scared of the same shit? That’s likely part of the reason we’re both here right now, why we connected with each other, and why we’re in this position in the first place. You’re not the only person in the world who’s been hurt, Miles. You’re not the only person who’s been left behind.”
“Your mom died. That’s different. It wasn’t—”
“Thirteen,” Quinn cut him off.
“Thirteen what?”
“I was in thirteen different homes. Thirteen people sent me away. Walked away from me. This isn’t a competition. It’s not a game of who’s been hurt the most. We both have scars, but we’re still standing. The question is, are you going to spend your whole life punishing yourself or are you going to move on?”
He hardly had time to take a breath before Miles jerked him closer and crashed their mouths together. He moaned, and Miles’s tongue pushed past his lips. Rough hands grabbed his ass, squeezed and then ran up his back and tangled in his hair.
Miles used his hold to pull Quinn’s head back, and he got the burn he loved so damn much.
“What the fuck do you do to me?” Miles asked, and then they were kissing again. Hungry, needy kisses that went straight to Quinn’s cock.
“How do you make me want you so much?” Miles said into his neck before biting him there.
“Why are you so goddamned intriguing? Why do I feel like I know you in ways I don’t know anyone else?” He pushed his hand down the back of Quinn’s jeans, ran his finger down Quinn’s ass crack.
Strong arms wrapped around him, lifted Quinn so he wrapped his legs around Miles’s waist.
“I’m sorry. You got my head all fucked up, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”
They were moving then, as Miles carried Quinn toward his bedroom.
“You got me thinking things I’ve never thought about before. Part of me wants to spank your tight little ass for it and the other part worries I won’t be able to breathe if I can’t see where this might go.”
“Oh fuck,” Quinn said, a wild stampede in his chest. “How’d you get so good at sweet talk? You’re gonna make me even more crazy about you than I already am.”
Miles dropped him to the bed. “You’d rather dirty talk? Wanna know that I’m gonna treat you real good to make up for being a prick? Gonna play with your little hole just the way you like, bring you to the edge and pull you back again till your balls are so damn tight, and you’re begging me to let you shoot your load.”
“Fuck.” Quinn’s eyes rolled back, and he bucked his hips, needing exactly what Miles promised to give him.
“You good? You ready for me?” Miles asked as he played with the opening in Quinn’s jeans. He’d never gotten around to buttoning and zipping them.
“Yeah,” he answered, his eyes firmly on Miles. The other man looked back at him, stared hard like he was trying to apologize
with them, like he was making a commitment to do better because he felt the same need Quinn did.
“See? Always such a good boy.” Miles winked at him and then pulled Quinn’s jeans and underwear off. His cock was red and leaking all over his stomach already. He lay sideways, with his legs over the side of the bed, Miles standing between them. “Don’t worry. I’ll play with you, too.” Miles ran his finger up Quinn’s dick—root to tip.
“You’re killing me,” Quinn told him.
“I know, baby boy.”
Miles reached in Quinn’s nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube there. “Lift your hips up,” he commanded before reaching for Quinn’s pillows next. He propped them under Quinn so his ass was in the air, his upper body slanted downward where he lay on the bed. “Spread your legs for me real good.”
There was zero chance Quinn would argue with that. He opened his legs as Miles squeezed lube into both his hands. Two fingers from his left hand went straight to Quinn’s hole. He rubbed it gently, like he just wanted to tease Quinn as he used two fingers on his right hand to dance up and down Quinn’s dick.
“Oh fuck,” he said again. They seemed to be the only two words his brain could make as he shuddered and his eyes rolled back at Miles’s tender touch. Somehow, these two small touches mesmerized him. They were everything, and he felt them caressing every part of his body.
“Look at me,” he ordered, and Quinn tried like crazy to keep his eyes open. Their stare stayed locked on each other as Miles teased his ass, oh-so-fucking-good while his other hand played with Quinn’s cock. “Feel good?” Miles asked.
“You know it does. You just want to hear me say it.”
“Then say it,” Miles replied.
“Jesus, you feel so fucking good,” Quinn admitted. He was so fucking good at this. At making Quinn go crazy with pleasure.
He damn near melted into the bed when Miles wrapped a hand around his erection and pushed two fingers into his hole at the same time.
He was on sensory overload with all of Miles’s attention on him—his ass, his dick, and those brown eyes that entranced him so much.
Miles pushed his fingers deep, rubbed Quinn’s prostate as he jacked him slowly. Quinn felt his orgasm building already, it was there, so fucking close—this explosion inside of him that would detonate in three, two, “Fuck!” he yelled when Miles pulled his fingers out and let go of his prick. “What the hell are you doing?” He’d been right there…right fucking there when Miles stopped.
“Playing,” Miles answered simply and then he started to do it again. He pet Quinn’s hole, rubbed his fingers around the rim as his fingers tickled up and down his dick. Then he was stroking him again, finger-fucking him until Quinn was right on the brink, ready to blow his load all over his stomach when Miles pulled back again.
After the third time, he couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt and he was dizzy. He felt like he’d been transported to another universe. Like there was no gravity and Miles was tethering him down. “Please…” he begged. “Oh, fuck, Miles. I need to come. I’m losing my mind.” His eyes fluttered, and Miles swatted his thigh.
“Look at me.”
Quinn managed to pry his eyes open again.
With his fingers still in Quinn’s ass, Miles let go of Quinn’s erection and palmed his own through his jeans. “You want this?”
“Yes, motherfucker. You know I do.”
“Aww. That’s not a very good boy,” Miles teased. “I’m being so nice to you. Treating you so well, and you’re going to talk to me like that?”
Quinn wasn’t sure where Miles was going with this, how far he liked to take these games. “I’m sorry, sir,” he chanced, and Miles’s eyes damn near started to glow.
The air around them changed. It still popped and crackled with sexual energy but then it was suddenly laced with more emotion. Like the conversation had suddenly changed. Miles’s gaze softened, morphed to something that Quinn didn’t understand. The only thing he did know was that it was more. “I’m sorry, too.” Miles said, his voice rough and emotional. “I’m sorry, too,” he repeated, obviously speaking about last night.
Quinn smiled at him, and whispered, “I know.” There wasn’t a part of him that doubted it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Quinn was making him lose his mind.
Miles felt shit he wasn’t used to feeling, and he wanted to make sure Quinn knew he was sorry. That he’d do his best not to fuck up again, because the other option was walking away from Quinn, and Miles knew he wasn’t ready for that.
He felt tied to this man in ways he’d never been attached to anyone else. Last night, the binds had felt too tight…today, they weren’t tight enough.
“Are you going to fuck me or what?” Quinn asked, pulling Miles out of his thoughts.
Yeah…he was. He wanted his dick so far in Quinn’s ass, he’d feel him there for days. It amped him up that Quinn liked to play the way he did. That they were submissive and dominant by nature, even though he wouldn’t go as far as to say either of them were in the lifestyle. They just liked what they liked, and those desires molded together well. Fit together the way you could only hope you’d fit with someone else.
“Turn over,” Miles told him as he grabbed a condom from the drawer. He shucked his jeans and underwear off then pulled his shirt over his head as Quinn rolled onto his belly, legs spread and ass waiting for him.
Miles rolled the condom down his aching erection, then stroked it with a freshly lubed hand. He reached out and spread Quinn’s cheeks, looked at his pucker, and damn near lost his balance. “Freshly shaved hole. You were waiting for me?”
“Was hoping,” Quinn replied, breathlessly.
Miles rubbed his thumb against it. “So fucking sexy. I can’t wait to stretch your pink little hole with my cock.”
“Then do it.”
His fucking pleasure. Miles grabbed the base of his erection, opened Quinn up with the head of his dick. He watched it stretch to accommodate him, watched as inch after inch of his dick disappeared between Quinn’s pale cheeks. He suddenly wanted to see them red, so he smacked his right cheek, over and over in rapid succession as Quinn wiggled beneath him, thrusting against the bed.
“Yes. Miles. God, that feels so fucking good.”
When that cheek was good and red, Miles moved to the left, paying it the same attention. His cock twitched each time the smacking sound echoed through the room. As Quinn’s skin got pinker and pinker.
When Quinn’s whole ass was crimson, he pushed his dick in deep again, damn near blowing his load the second he was tucked all the way inside. He was on the ragged edge, wanting his orgasm to take him over right now but needing more at the same time.
He pulled almost all the way out and watched as his dick opened Quinn up again. Watched their bodies come together. Felt something low and deep in his gut that he didn’t understand.
Even though he loved seeing Quinn’s red ass while he fucked him, Miles pulled out, flipped him over and shoved Quinn’s legs back before he pushed inside again.
He leaned forward, mouth close to Quinn’s ear as he rutted against him. “I never got it before…wanting the same person more than once, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of you.”
It wasn’t an admission that was easy to make, that he couldn’t see a place in the future where he wouldn’t want to be inside of Quinn. It would happen, right? He’d get his fill of Quinn, and Quinn would get his fill of Miles as well. It had to happen.
“Yeah…yeah, me too,” Quinn replied, and then their mouths were pushed together and their tongues were battling. Their bodies were slapping against one another and, motherfucker, did Quinn’s ass feel just right wrapped around Miles’s dick.
Quinn ripped his mouth away. “Oh, fuck. I’m gonna come. Jerk me off, Miles.”
He leaned up enough to shove a hand between them. He gripped Quinn’s cock—hard and hot as a rock in the sun and began stroking it. His balls were on fire he wanted to come so badly, but it
wasn’t until he felt the hot spurt of Quinn’s jizz on his hand, running through his fingers that Miles gave in. That he took a dive over the edge, his orgasm blazing through him and setting him on fire.
He fell against Quinn then, pulled his hand up, and licked Quinn’s come off his fingers. When he finished, Quinn leaned forward and kissed him. Miles let him run the kiss, let him suck Miles’s tongue and nibble at his lips.
When Quinn had his fill, he held the back of Miles’s head as Miles lay on him. “Will you go to Wild Side with me on Friday?” he asked. He didn’t let himself think. Didn’t let himself worry. He just gave himself this moment and the man he wanted so fucking much.
“Only if you really want me there, not if it’s out of some strange obligation. That’s never what it was about,” Quinn replied. “You can hang out with your friends every Friday without me as long as it’s because that’s your routine and not because you’re not fully letting me into your life.”
“I know.” God help him, he wanted Quinn to go with him. Wanted to see him laugh with Chance.
“Then yes.” He paused, before adding, “God, you fucked me good. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move.”
“Then you don’t have to.” Miles stood up, pulled his condom off, and tossed it in the trash. He lifted Quinn, put him in the middle of the bed, and then lay down beside him.
He ran his hand through Quinn’s hair. Palmed his sweaty balls. Rubbed the drying come on his stomach. He was addicted to him. He wanted to devour him. Wanted to know everything there was to know about him.
“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” Quinn asked, and Miles froze. Boyfriend? Wow…
Quinn’s loud laughter broke apart all Miles thoughts. “You fucker.” He smacked Quinn’s thigh again.
“You know you wanna be my boyfriend,” he teased.