by A. M. Arthur
“Stop, please,” Nate gasped.
James stood, his grinning face marked by streaks of white, his lips puffy and wet. “Jesus Christ, Nate, you are gorgeous when you come like that.”
“I have never in my life come like that.”
“Now that’s a damned shame. You need to come like that as often as physically
possible.”
Nate stared at the semen slowly dripping down James’s cheek, fascinated by it and knowing it was his. He wiped it away with his thumb. “I’m going to hold you to that promise, you know.”
“I hope so. No one else gets to make you come like that. Not while you’re mine.”
The possessiveness in James’s voice stirred something deep inside Nate—a part of him that wanted to belong to someone, and who was very glad that someone was James. James loved him. James had the patience to take everything at Nate’s pace and help him get comfortable with this long suppressed side of himself. Emboldened by the knowledge and James’s statement, Nate curled his fingers around James’s erection.
James exhaled hard, his eyes widening. “Now there’s a first for me.”
“What?”
“Your hand on my cock.”
“Sooner or later, it’ll be my mouth on your cock.”
James kissed him, a hard, claiming press of lips that left behind an unusual taste. “I vote for later. Giving your first blow job is tricky enough without worrying that you’re going to drown.”
Nate chuckled, even as a distant memory reminded him that this wasn’t, technically, his first. “Good point.”
“Let’s finish this shower. You can play with my cock later.”
“Play, huh?” He squeezed gently. “Does that mean I get to dress it up?”
James arched an eyebrow at him. “Watch it, Wolf. The only two inanimate objects that are allowed that up close and personal with my dick are condoms and cock rings.”
Nate vaguely knew what cock rings were for, and condoms brought up territory he wasn’t ready to explore yet. James had never been shy about the details of his sex life, and he didn’t bottom. Ever. He was a top to the bone. Over the years, Nate had woken up from the occasional wet dream with lingering memories of James fucking him. Filling him. Pounding them both to climax. Weird, sure, but who didn’t have the odd dream about a friend here and there? He’d simply laughed them off and gone about his day.
Now the idea of being so vulnerable…not yet.
“Hey, where’d you go this time?” James cupped the back of his neck and pressed his forehead to Nate’s.
The awkward angle put their eyes too close. Close enough that James might look inside him and see the raw fear, so Nate focused on his chin. He’d let go of James’s dick at some point, having totally blown the moment. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, babe. It was something I said, right?”
“Kind of.”
“Tell me.”
Putting his fears into words was difficult and embarrassing, but this was James. James wouldn’t make fun of him. He’d understand. Nate licked his lips, surprised at how dry his mouth had become in the steamy bathroom. “It’s just that I know you don’t bottom, but I don’t think—
I’m not ready to—I think—damn it, this is coming out wrong.”
James drew back, nodding slowly. “No, I think I understand, and we don’t have to jump straight into intercourse, Nate. You may want to try it, you may not, but there are a lot of other things we can do together in bed. Fucking is only one part of it.”
“A huge part.”
“Not so huge for everyone.”
“Really? You, James Taggert, a guy who’s had his dick in enough asses to earn an honorary proctology degree, are saying anal sex isn’t a big deal?”
James’s eyebrows winged up. “An honorary proctology degree?”
“It’s a metaphor.”
“You don’t believe me?”
Nate shrugged. James wouldn’t lie to spare his feelings, but he found the idea a little hard to swallow. Then again, he only had James’s rather active sex life to use as an example.
“Do you know Riley McCage? He’s a bartender at Pot O Gold.”
“The one with the eyeliner?”
“That’s Donner. Riley’s got the Celtic cross tattoo on the back of his neck. Anyway, about a year ago he came into the Pot on his night off, and we ended up leaving together. Before we got ten feet from the bar, he laid it right out that we could fool around until our dicks fell off, but fucking wasn’t going to happen. And he’s had a boyfriend for the last six months who swears up and down they’ve never fucked each other, and they’re both okay with it.”
Nate turned the story over in his mind, letting it tear apart his preconceived notions about gay sex. He only had a vague idea of who Riley was, but setting a hard limit like that and sticking to it was admirable. It also made him wonder why.
“So intercourse is not a deal breaker here. Okay?” James kissed the tip of his nose.
“Nate?”
“Okay.”
“Make me believe it.”
Nate grabbed the back of James’s neck and yanked him down into a hard kiss. Lips and tongue and teeth, and he might have even growled a little bit, because this was his way of possessing James. Of staking his claim and making James believe him.
They finished showering in record time.
Nate’s cock was down for the count for a while, but he’d be damned if watching James towel himself off wasn’t turning him on again. James was a goddamn walking Viagra pill. They didn’t bother dressing. He followed James into the bedroom. The sight of the rumpled sheets and blanket made his insides a little squirrelly.
James hauled him into a long, sensual kiss that melted the world away. Nate lost himself in the slide of tongues, the questing of lips, the taste of James in his mouth. Curious if he tasted the same in other places, Nate licked along his jaw, up to his ear. His tongue rasped over a faint stubble of beard, and James shivered.
Nice.
He nibbled and licked his way down James’s throat, laving the skin, loving every small noise and jerking motion his actions brought out of James. He delved into the hollows of his collarbone, the smooth curves of his pecs. Down to a dark brown nipple already pebbled in the cool air. He hesitated, but a glance at James’s hard, straining cock convinced him this was a very good idea.
Nate traced the tip of his tongue around the nipple. James hissed, hands finding a firm grip on Nate’s shoulders. Nate continued to tease, enjoying the way the nub of flesh reacted to his tongue. He pressed his tongue flat over it, then wiggled. James’s left hand slid from Nate’s shoulder to his waist.
“Bite it,” James whispered.
He did. James arched up and he cried out, a sensual sound that speared Nate in the gut.
Nate bit again for the reward of that sound, then gave equal treatment to James’s other nipple.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” James said, voice strained. Hoarse.
Nate kissed his way down James’s body, across the hard planes of his abdomen, to a light brown happy trail. He was on his knees in front of James, and he’d never felt more in control in his life. Maybe because James was gazing down at him with so much love and lust and pure desire that Nate didn’t have room in his mind or heart for fear. All he had room for was making James fall apart.
So he started where James had, by licking the crease of his thigh. Then the smooth skin surrounding the trimmed brown hair that circled his final destination. Taste and smell played together here, headier, more masculine. He liked it. A lot. He took James’s long cock in hand, stroking the silky skin stretched tight over thick heat. He ran his thumb over the crown, smearing a drop of fluid that had collected there.
First taste.
Nate licked the length of James’s cock, root to tip, then took the head into his mouth.
Hands tightened on his shoulders, and James groaned.
“Fuck, Nate, that’s good.”
Encouraged, h
e teased around the crown, enjoying the taste and texture, and especially loving the way James was panting, as his thigh muscles bunched. Nate had seen enough porn to figure out the mechanics of using his fist around the root while taking as much into his mouth as he could without gagging. He got a rhythm faster than he expected, and he fell into the task.
Nothing more important than this, than making James feel good.
He was drooling a bit, the spit collecting on his hand, but it didn’t matter because sex wasn’t always pretty. Not like in porn when a mess meant a pause and a reset. This was real.
This was everything.
Remembering one of James’s moves, Nate used his free hand for another first. He cupped James’s sac, exploring the wrinkled, furred skin. The way his testicles rolled against his palm.
James was muttering and cursing, clutching his shoulders tight enough to bruise. Probably straining his back to keep from thrusting his hips, from fucking into Nate’s mouth. From claiming the orgasm that had to be tormenting him, so close. His breathing was labored and his chest was flushed, and he’d never been more beautiful.
“Gonna come, Nate, shit.”
Nate pulled off and sat back, still stroking, while James screamed and climaxed. Semen splattered Nate’s chest and slicked his hand, and he didn’t stop until James collapsed to his knees and shoved him to the floor with a kiss. A kiss that went from his mouth down to his chest, where James proceeded to do the sexiest thing he’d ever seen—he licked his own come off Nate’s pecs and shoulder.
He cradled James between his legs, their cocks sliding together, soft but still sensual.
James licked his way back up to Nate’s mouth, and they kissed awhile longer. A long, lazy kiss that eventually became an embrace. A heavy, slightly sticky embrace.
“If you fall asleep on top of me,” Nate said, “I’m spanking your ass to wake you back up.”
James raised his head, eyes dancing with amusement. “Was that a threat or a promise?”
“Test me and find out.”
“Gladly.”
Chapter Eleven
“I had every intention of coming to the party last night.”
James looked up from the carton of beef and broccoli he’d been concentrating on for the past few minutes while some movie on cable played in the background. After a long nap, he and Nathan had woken up starving. James placed a quick call to a nearby Chinese place, and twenty minutes later they were at the kitchen counter sorting a bag full of white cartons. Everything from bland to spicy, and all flavors in between. Nathan hadn’t been able to decide, so they randomly chose ten things off the lunch menu.
The only thing James kept looking askance at was the shrimp lo mein. It smelled funny.
“Elliott’s party?” James asked. The question was kind of rhetorical, and it earned a solid eye roll from Nathan.
“No, the swingers’ party in the apartment across the hall.”
He deserved that. “Why didn’t you?”
Nathan plucked a piece of beef out of James’s carton with his chopsticks. He was the only person James knew who could use chopsticks with any real finesse. “I didn’t want to make a scene. It was Ell’s night, and the attention needed to be on him. Plus I didn’t want our first conversation in months to happen around so many people.”
All good reasons to skip the party. Although a little less consideration on Nathan’s part would have prevented James from probably, maybe, sleeping with Elliott. He needed to talk to Elliott and clarify things, but he didn’t want to do anything right now that shifted his focus off Nathan. The fact that he and Nathan were together—not only physically but Biblically—still blew his mind. He’d woken up in hell this morning, and now his greatest dream had come true.
A dream that had waited for far too long and still had every chance of imploding. “You could have contacted me long before the party, Nate.”
“Touché. But it is what it is, and this is our reality. The what if’s don’t matter anymore, right? We can’t fix what’s broken.”
“Nothing really broke. It just…got a little bent.”
Nathan snickered around a mouthful of noodles. “No pun intended?”
“Funny guy.” James smiled, though, because the slip was kind of amusing.
He understood Nathan’s hesitation about intercourse. The story about Riley hadn’t been for show, and he’d met a handful of other guys over the years who simply didn’t do anal. James didn’t top exclusively due to control issues or previous bad experiences. He’d tried it a few times, with partners who knew what they were doing, but he hadn’t enjoyed it. Maybe Nathan would change his mind one day, maybe not. Maybe they’d try anal and Nathan wouldn’t like it either. Whatever.
He’d meant what he said about anal sex not being a deal breaker.
Your last time fucking a guy, and you don’t even remember it. Loser.
If he’d fucked Elliott. The jury was still out. He’d found an empty condom wrapper, but no condom. Elliott could have flushed it, though. James usually dumped it into the wastebasket, and he hadn’t found it there.
He really hoped he hadn’t fucked Elliott, and he was fairly positive Elliott hadn’t fucked him. Elliott didn’t have a small dick and they’d both been too hammered for careful prep, so he’d be feeling a drunken fuck.
“What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?” Nathan asked.
He shrugged and speared some broccoli with his fork. “I don’t know. I was hoping to spend it making you come as often as physically possible, as previously promised, and the rest of the time being near you. I’ve missed you like crazy.”
“I’ve missed you too. So much. Leaving how I did, it helped me heal. It helped me understand how I felt about you so I could believe in us. That this is real and not pity. I just wish it hadn’t been at your expense.”
“You said it helped you heal, so I’m cool with it being at my expense.” James sipped his Gatorade. “Can I ask you something personal?”
Nathan arched a slim eyebrow. “You sucked on my balls, Jay. Do things get more
personal than that?”
“Well yeah. I haven’t rimmed you yet.”
The flare of arousal in Nathan’s eyes made James’s insides quiver. “What’s your
question?”
“Do you have a therapist you’re seeing?”
Arousal crash and burn.
Nathan blinked, then looked into his carton. “I saw someone at home a few times, and the department will make me see a psychologist before I can return to work.”
“So you don’t have someone here?”
“No, why? You volunteering?”
“I couldn’t because of our personal relationship. But if you weren’t sure about who to call and wanted a referral, I could help you find somebody good.”
“I’m not such a big fan of airing out my feelings in front of a stranger.”
“I get that, believe me. I have patients who resist talking for weeks of appointments because they don’t think the process will help. Once they start talking, though, it gets easier.
Getting the hurt out in the open often takes away some of its power.”
“Often, but not always.”
“No, not always.” His thoughts drifted to Will and the layers of hell the kid had to work through before he reclaimed power over his life and his emotions. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”
Nathan sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
They ate for a while in companionable silence, like they’d done a hundred times before.
James kept stealing glances at Nathan, admiring the strong, brave man who’d come back to him.
A little changed, yes, but his heart was the same. The essence of him had not been damaged by a madman’s knife, and James’s heart swelled with joy knowing Nathan was his—like he always should have been.
“How’s your mom?” Nathan asked.
“About the same. Once a week she swears she sees Price somewhere. She even ask
ed me to hire a private investigator to make sure she isn’t being followed by him.” James stabbed at a piece of beef. “The problem is I can’t figure out if this is her trying to get my attention, or if she really believes she’s seeing him. One is a much bigger problem than the other.”
“It’s not possible she is seeing him?”
James had considered the idea that Price actually was stalking her for about five seconds.
“I seriously doubt it. There’s no point. It was my testimony that put Price away, mine and Laurie’s. I walked in on Price raping my little sister. If he wants to torment someone, he should come after me.”
Darkness encroached on the joy of his day, and James pushed it away. He’d tried very hard not to think about Price these past few months, succeeding for the most part. Until his mother called, and he remembered his failures all over again. He’d failed to protect Laurie from Price. He’d failed to protect her from her own depression. He’d failed to protect Nathan.
Warm arms slid around his waist, and then a chest pressed against his back. James hadn’t seen Nathan stand, didn’t notice he’d moved behind his stool until he hugged him and put his chin on James’s shoulder.
“Maybe your mom is imagining it.” Nathan’s voice was soft and soothing. “She’s
imagining it and Price is out of your life. He’s not stalking your family. In time, she’ll move on and her obsession will shift to something else.”
James often forgot that Nathan knew so much about his mother’s ever-changing
obsessive-compulsive history. Something caught and commanded her attention for weeks, sometimes months at a time, and then she moved on. At Christmas it was reading every book she could find about Islam, jihad and conversions to Christianity. He’d left his opinions on that alone because arguing with her was useless. Two years ago, she had refused to buy pre-ground coffee because she believed ground coffee had insect parts and dried feces in it.
“I hope so,” James said.
Nathan kissed the side of his neck. “I have a proposition for you.”