Mr. Right Now

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Mr. Right Now Page 19

by Sonja Spencer


  The older man looking up into Gerard’s shimmering eyes, and he nodded, lowering his mouth to press a kiss to one thigh, then the other, nuzzling as he went, worshiping. He was storing up memories as he breathed in Gerard’s scent and the musk of their sex. But now it would be something else. He settled again between the younger man’s thighs, just rubbing their bodies together as he sought those sinful lips.

  With a moan, Gerard wrapped himself around Marcus, legs lifting off the bed to circle the narrow hips and pull his lover closer. In perfect synchronization, they moved against each other, seemingly able to read each other’s minds. Gerard’s hands skimmed the strong muscles of Marcus’s back, his mouth moving from lips to jaw to neck and back, unable to get enough of Marcus’s taste.

  The heat sizzled between them as Marcus stroked and squeezed, one hand reaching back to slide from Gerard’s knee down to the curve of his buttock before sliding between his legs to stroke lightly. They still rubbed against one another, and Marcus could tell Gerard was already hard again.

  Gerard whimpered, dropping a foot to the mattress to arch up into the touch. As wonderful as the last hour had been, he wanted, he needed Marcus inside of him. “Fill me. Love me,” he begged as Marcus’s fingers found his entrance.

  Marcus lowered his forehead to Gerard’s shoulder and pressed his lips to the sweaty skin, just barely stopping the clichéd “I do” that threatened to fall from his lips. He pressed his thumb slightly into the tight hole, then pulled back to reach over to the bedside for a condom and the small bottle of slick.

  “I want to do that,” Gerard said, reaching for the condom. Quickly disposing of the wrapper, he rolled the latex over Marcus’s cock, wishing fervently that ‘nothing between us’ meant this, too, but he loved Marcus for taking such good care of him. He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. He was used to being the one in control of all his relationships, but would it really be so bad to be a little vulnerable? Instinctively, Gerard knew that Marcus would never hurt him, and that certainty opened his feelings like a flower facing the sun. Sitting facing his lover, his thighs over Marcus’s, he watched as his lover coated his cock with lube, and he stole a quick kiss. “Make me yours,” he asked. “Not because of anyone else. Just for us.”

  Leaning forward, Marcus guided himself to the tight portal. Just before penetrating, he lifted his chin and leaned forward on one arm to capture Gerard’s lips. As their tongues met and twisted sensuously, he pushed in as carefully as he could, as gently as he could, feeling the muscle squeeze and then give to his body.

  Taking a deep breath, Gerard relaxed, accepting Marcus into his body, joining with someone in a way he had never experienced before. The feelings he had developed for Marcus made every touch, every sensation, more intense. He couldn’t get enough. “Deeper,” he begged.

  On soft exhale of breath, Marcus surged further, sliding into Gerard’s tight passage. He lowered himself upon the other man’s chest, his elbows to each side of his head, and kissed him softly, their lips rubbing and catching over and over as his hips slowly rocked. He felt consumed with more affection than he’d thought possible, and to keep from expressing it, he stole yet more kisses. Silence would have to do, for now. With every touch and reaction, Gerard sought to show Marcus exactly how much he meant to him. No rush. No hurry. Just an incredibly gentle building of emotion. He felt every inch of Marcus’s cock as it dragged enticingly in and out of his body, stroking all the right spots until he saw stars behind his closed eyes. He swallowed the words dancing on the tip of his tongue, afraid to shatter the moment. Their deal had been for a weekend of fun, not a lifetime of love.

  They seemed to move smoothly against one another for hours before Marcus’s breath grew short, the buzzing and burn in his groin becoming too much to resist. “Come with me, Rascal,” he breathed, shuddering as he tried to wait.

  “Right with you,” Gerard replied, a warm glow spreading at the nickname. Pulling Marcus even closer, he let the friction of their bodies push him closer and closer to the edge. “Want to feel you come.”

  “Christ, you’re beautiful,” Marcus whispered, his eyes focusing on Gerard’s face before they glazed and rolled up as he slid into climax, his body quaking as his smooth thrusts became erratic.

  The sentiment combined with watching the bliss wash over Marcus’s face pushed Gerard to his own peak. Burying his face into Marcus’s neck, he breathed in deeply, surrounding himself with the scent and feeling of his lover as he came. Rocking his hips up in shallow thrusts, he milked Marcus’s cock with the force of his own release. His arms and legs closed around Marcus’s body, pinning him close, unwilling to relinquish the moment of complete connectedness. Groaning as he collapsed against the man beneath him, Marcus burrowed close, sliding his arms under Gerard and holding him tight – the closest he could come to expressing what he was feeling without speaking.

  GERARD pulled Marcus’s arm tighter around his chest, sinking back into the sleep warm body curled behind him. Sun streamed through the cracks in the vertical blinds. It was Sunday. The weekend was officially over. He knew that Marcus’s guests were scheduled to depart at various times over the next three hours and couldn’t bear the thought of having Marcus see him off along with all his other acquaintances. Turning to face his sleeping lover, he ran a gentle hand down the stubbled cheek before placing a kiss on the parted lips.

  Even in sleep, Marcus reached out to him, but Gerard careful unwound himself from the seeking arms, standing at the side of the bed thinking all the things he couldn’t get his mouth to say. Funny how easy it was to beg Marcus to fuck him when it was so hard to ask the other man to love him.

  Blinking rapidly, he dressed, collected his clothes, stuffed them in his duffle bag and placed it by the door. Stopping at the small desk, he took out a sheet of paper and wrote a short note.

  Dear Marcus, Thanks for a great weekend. It was everything you promised it would be and more. Sorry about the quick departure, but I’m not very good at goodbyes. If you ever want me, you know where to find me.

  Gerard With a last wistful look at Marcus, he placed the note on his pillow and picked up his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder. The doorman would catch him a cab.

  Some time later, the older man stirred slowly, stretching, stopping when the bed felt cool next to him. Confused, Marcus blinked open his eyes and sat up to find himself alone. He looked about and his eyes fell on a piece of paper on the pillow next to him. His chest tightened as he reached for it. He knew what it was. He let it fall to the sheets as he stared out into the sterile, empty room. Aching.

  EYES dark and shimmering in the low light, Marcus watched the slim young man at the bar, drinking alone. The older man had seen him there before, a month ago, and seeing him now helped him make his decision. Now he waited patiently for the object of his thoughts to make a move.

  Gerard drained the last of his drink before grabbing his jacket and heading for the exit. His heart just wasn’t in being out on the town tonight. The bar had been absolutely dead and every time the door opened, he’d held his breath, hoping that Marcus would walk in.

  Watching his target finish his drink and head his way, Marcus knew he had to speak up now – the other man didn’t seem to be leaving paired with anyone. “Leaving early tonight?” Marcus commented from his lazy sprawl in the leather armchair, a cigarette between his fingers, just as the other man passed by. His nonchalance didn’t reflect his racing pulse and pounding heart.

  Gerard jumped slightly at the familiar smoky rasp, his breath catching. Turning, his eyes hit black leather boots, traveling up long legs encased in black denim. Slender fingers surrounded a glass of amber liquid, balanced enticingly next to an impressive ridge. The soft cotton of a well-worn T-shirt stretched over a broad chest that was framed by a dark jacket. When his eyes finally reached a face, the man was looking at him, an inscrutable glow in his green eyes set off by reddish-blond hair. They both knew that Gerard had been surveying his body, and the man obvio
usly knew he wouldn’t be found lacking. Gerard smiled, tilting his head provocatively. “Didn’t find anything to hold my attention,” he parried.

  The corner of Marcus’s mouth lifted in amusement, and he lifted his glass as if to say touché. Neither of them would mention it if his hand was shaking slightly. “Guess you hadn’t seen me then, yeah?” he drawled, trying to stay true to character. “Let me buy you a drink,” he said in a charming, warm voice. He enjoyed looking over the other man’s body now, dressed in tight blue jeans and a loose shirt, artfully half unbuttoned and sleeves turned up. Lovely.

  “You aren’t easy to spot, skulking in the shadows. It makes me think you have less than honorable intentions.” The tilted smile added a playful tone to Gerard’s words.

  Marcus’s smile grew larger and more confident as he caught the teasing hint in the man’s voice. “Had to make sure you weren’t with someone else, didn’t I?” he said as he held dark brown eyes, intensity in his own. He flagged down the waitress. “Sit and have a drink with me,” he said again, persuasively.

  Gerard shrugged, spinning his leather jacket off his shoulder and onto the back of the nearest chair. He lowered himself to the leather seat, consciously mirroring the older man’s pose. “I’ve sort’ve been saving myself for someone special.” Turning to Brittany as she approached with an empty tray and her usual flirtatious attitude, he smiled brilliantly. “My usual, darlin’.”

  “On my tab,” Marcus added, and the waitress nodded, heading off to the bar. “Someone special. That’s a tall order,” he said, studying him with a brow raised in amusement.

  Gerard grinned. “I’m more than a little discriminating in my taste of bed partners. Thank you for the drink.” The verbal banter was fun, and it was easy to slip back into the playful dynamic they had shared, but inside, Gerard was desperately searching for some sign as to why Marcus was here. The man had done strange things to his equilibrium from the first moment they’d met, and he still was reeling from the effects of their weekend together.

  Nodding in acknowledgement, Marcus lifted his for a toast. “I have a proposition for you,” he said, eyes glittering in the hazy light as he stared at the black-haired and chocolate-eyed man who had been on his mind constantly for the last month.

  Rhianne Aile Rhianne Aile has an unhealthy relationship with her computer, iced tea and chocolate. Growing up, she split her time between Oklahoma and Chicago, making her equally fond of horses, skyscrapers, cowboys, and men in well tailored suits. Facilitating retreats for women and authors keeps her traveling enough to stay happy.

  Visit Rhianne’s Website at http://www.rhianneaile.com/

  Madeleine Urban Madeleine Urban is a down-home Kentucky girl who’s been writing since she could hold a crayon. A longtime science fiction and fantasy fan, she loves to mix those genres with romance to get explosive, satisfying results. She lives with a partner and two canine kids, visits Disney World twice a year, and still believes dreams can come true.

  Visit Madeleine’s Blog at http://madeleineurban.livejournal.com/

  Wanna Ride?

  By Sonja Spencer

  HE wore black leather pants.

  Painted on.

  And nothing else but sweat.

  His defined arms raised over his head, Raul gyrated to the music. The sweat ran in rivulets down his back, over the shifting muscles, and disappeared into the waistband that rode low on his trim hips.

  As he danced, his bare chest gleamed. The perspiration illuminated the lean lines of his ribcage down to the trail of dark hair that marked his belly and led down, down, down… into black leather.

  Cris sat in a corner at the club, letting the low light cloak him in anonymity. Watching the crowd, he tapped his blackpainted nails impatiently against the bottle in his hand. Eyes sweeping the dance floor, his gaze focused on one man. In black leather and skin. Cris’s brown eyes narrowed as he studied the other man.

  Letting the music move him, Raul kept dancing, not caring who rubbed against him or stepped into his space as men and women alike throbbed on the dance floor. The chain bracelets were warm on his wrists, the links about his neck felt damp, and the rings in his nipples reflected the spinning lights that revolved above them. Slinging his long hair out of his face, he tipped his head back, ignoring the world.

  Running a hand through the spiky mess of his black hair, Cris stood. The chains and straps on his bondage pants swung as he walked across the floor toward the vision of writhing sex on the dance floor. Stopping just behind the taller man, he dared to reach out. His fingertip traced the path of dripping sweat down to where it disappeared below a dimple peeking above a leather waistband.

  Feeling the touch but paying it no mind, Raul kept moving to the music. He’d been danced with, rubbed, fondled, and practically fucked on this dance floor at some time or another. It was part of the reason he came here, for this outlet of sexual energy. He opened his eyes, the black paint around them accentuating their size as he glanced over his shoulder.

  As the other man’s green eyes opened in the semidarkness, Cris leaned closer. Lights flashed over his pale skin. “Dance with me.”

  Turning in time with the beat, Raul shifted his hips and moved right into the other man’s personal space, dropping his arms onto his shoulders and pressing their bodies together as he moved.

  Cris’s hands bracketed slim hips, letting him feel as if he could control the raw power harnessed in that man’s lean frame. He felt the blood in his cock pound, and he sucked his lined lower lip into his mouth, gnawing at it as his eyes held the piercing, heated green gaze.

  Holding the other man so close aroused Raul even more than the music. Watching him chew his lip didn’t help, so Raul leaned down to capture the abused lip between his own, laving it with his tongue before letting go. His body moved gracefully to the music the whole time.

  Cris tried to hide his surprise at the bold move, but he couldn’t hide the reaction his body had: his cock hardened under the black canvas of his pants. His banded wrist bent delicately as his hand slid along the other man’s ribcage, heading for the pierced nipples that he so wanted to touch… to taste…

  Raising a brow as the man tentatively touched, a grin pulled at Raul’s lips. To give him a hand, Raul reached out, took his hand, put it firmly over one of the rings and pushed it down, rubbing in a circle. His movement slowed as the music shifted into a lower, darker beat and the lights dimmed even more. Perfect dancefuck music. His other hand slid to the man’s ass and pulled, landing his sexy partner’s weight right against Raul’s groin.

  A sharp gasp escaped Cris’s swollen lips as he thumped firmly against the taller man’s body. He’d never been as thankful for being short as he was at that moment. Dipping his head, he flicked his tongue against the ring on the other side of the stranger’s chest even as his fingers continued to pluck at the first nipple.

  A pleased rumble was Raul’s answer as he gripped the man’s ass with one hand, the other sliding into his hair, encouraging the stranger’s attention to his piercings. The two men swayed, slowly rutting against one another, the friction ratcheting up the heat between them.

  Hooking his tongue in the small hoop, Cris sucked it into his mouth, tugging gently and twisting the metal through the flesh that held it. His hard cock vibrated, jolts shooting through him each time he bumped against the flushed, lean body. The hand that wasn’t occupied with tweaking a nipple slid just beneath the waistband of the tight leather, wedging between two very nicely developed globes of ass.

  Groaning, Raul pulled the man against him tighter, instigating a constant rubbing instead of a bump and grind. He could feel his cock swelling inside his pants. He grinned as he felt his dance partner’s body respond as well, and he shifted his stance wider to allow them more room to writhe against one another. He tipped his chin back, sucking in a breath as the pull on the ring in his nipple shot a buzz through him.

  The hand that fiddled with a nipple slid lower, hooking in the front of the other man�
�s trousers. His fingertips brushed against damp heat, and Cris growled around the flesh in his mouth, abandoning playing with the ring to suck earnestly at the nipple itself.

  With a groan, Raul hitched himself into the man’s hand, pinning it between their bodies, rubbing his erection hard against it. Sliding his hand back into the man’s short black hair, he tugged his head up, eager to taste some skin himself.

  Cris met the other man’s lips forcefully, letting his tongue push out to play, the metal shaft that pierced it clacking harmlessly against his own teeth. He pushed his hand farther into the trousers, fingers barely wrapping around the pulsing cock inside.

  Raul grunted into the man’s mouth, pleased by the piercing he discovered there – and even more pleased by the hand closing around him. He slid his tongue into the man’s mouth, stroking, circling the bar, and sucking on his lip again. At the same time, he moved his hand from his partner’s ass to work it into the front of his pants as well. He took one moment to glance up and see they were near a wall, and then he had the other man pushed against it, much like other couples around the club. The lighting was more than dim enough.

  Sprawling against the brick, Cris spread his legs, making room for the long-haired man to press against him. When a wandering hand pushed into his pants, he gasped, sucking harder at the tongue in his mouth, wishing it were another part of the stranger’s anatomy.

  Giving up the hot mouth to taste and bite at soft skin, Raul slid his lips to the man’s neck and started to jack the other man’s erection just as he felt the fingers moving on his own cock. He groaned in pleasure against the man’s throat and gyrated against him.

  Reaching out with his other hand, Cris unsnapped the button and lowered the zipper to the stranger’s tight leather pants, groaning aloud as the hot, hard cock fell into his hand. He pulled at it firmly, purring at the sensations caused by a hand on his cock and hot lips on his skin.

 

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