Fucked up questions, all.
“Sorry. Just…” Dean stopped speaking, his head falling back. Jay gazed up the long hard length of Dean’s body at the most amazing sight of this man caught up in what Jay was doing to him—while squeezing the way Dean liked. “Oh…man.”
Okay, maybe Dean took this a little for granted. Possibly, he was out of order. The flip side was Dean’s plain trust that Jay would take care of him. Not to mention the comical side of the situation.
“Rough day?” A grin twisted his lips.
“You might say.”
Yes, but not with a full mouth. To hell with this. If Dean wouldn’t take advantage, Jay needed to do it for him. Regardless of reason, of wrong or right, he’d waited long enough. Jay tugged. Dean, having no choice but to follow where his dick led, took a step. Jay bent his head to the task.
“I didn’t mean—” The sentence cut off on a moan.
The warm and throbbing heat in Jay’s mouth deserved care, and demanded a most excellent performance. Tonguing the slit did what Jay expected—made Dean’s whole body jerk. Jay lapped at the tiny opening, and then flicked his tongue all the way round the head.
Fingers carded through his hair. “Jay, I didn’t mean for you to—”
Silence again as Dean lost the fight. Jay won by sliding two fingers into the gap of the man’s fly, delving into underwear, searching for two heavy testicles, stroking, caressing, pulling them as far through the gap as possible until they bulged over the top. As he continued to tease them, he sucked…hard.
“Oh…”
A prayer existed there somewhere.
“I’m not gonna…”
Yes, you are. Jay fought the grin stretching his lips. He had no time for smiling, mouth too busy. A grin interfered with the hard suctioning. He added a head dip to the proceedings, short and shallow, up and down.
“It’s…um…”
Yeah.
A few seconds more and he’d have Dean shaking and gasping, and his cock pulsing and pushing. Spilling.
He’d have to cope with the outcome, swallow, or not, take care not to choke when Dean thrust, as he would, and, as he came, the big man’s legs would turn to rubber. Jay shifted in his chair, pushing it against the wall, taking Dean with him, pulling him closer so that Dean’s legs hit the arms. A quick flick of his gaze revealed Dean had done what Jay hoped—leaned over Jay and braced a hand against the wall for support.
He took Dean in deeply, doing his best to ignore the strain of his own engorged cock pushing against his restricting clothes, the sensation oh so good and torturous. He was going to leave a wet spot. The crazy thought he’d only just done the laundry nearly made him choke, but the notion shattered as Dean shouted. The big man’s body dipped, knee digging in to one of Jay’s thighs as Dean tried to stay upright as he came. Small shocks of delight spiked through Jay’s body, leaving him mindless.
Dean withdrew, forcing Jay to let go. Hell, but Jay didn’t want to lift out of the sex-induced haze. Jay licked his lips, repulsed and aroused by the slick feeling in his mouth and the horrid taste. How could something so disgusting be so fabulous? Drugged, drunk on lust—the best high he’d ever known. Good to have Dean’s knee off his lap, though. As expected, Dean sank to his knees, as good as collapsing. Jay stroked fingers through Dean’s hair—the head attached to it heavy in Jay’s lap. Dean panted while Jay looked down at him, a smile tugging at his lips, at the thought Dean’s dick still hung out of his jeans.
“I can’t believe you can do that to me.”
“As opposed to what?” Jay remained hard. Dean had to feel that against his cheek. Didn’t appear to bother him. Would be good to have Dean’s mouth on him, or his hand, but no hurry. Arousal tingled through Jay’s body. The afterglow lasted awhile with Dean. The man would take care of him if he asked, any which way Jay wanted. Meanwhile, the man quivered at his feet, ‘tackle’ chilling in the breeze.
Dean still hadn’t answered him. A shudder of what could only be pleasure went through him. “I didn’t expect…I wasn’t asking for…”
“I know.”
“I just wanted to feel your hand on me.”
Why? Jay didn’t ask. Dean would talk but Jay wasn’t through with the pleasant sensation making him ache. Who would have thought something akin to his skin prickling, and his muscles cramping, felt so wonderful?
“You didn’t have to,” Dean insisted.
“I’m aware of that, too. I wanted it. You needed it. Don’t over-complicate things.”
Dean laughed. Jay blinked in surprise, frowned. Dean shook his head. “You wouldn’t get the joke if I told you. Not without a long explanation.”
Fine. That could wait. Dean wasn’t ready and Jay…didn’t care that much. The blowjob hadn’t been for Dean’s benefit alone. “How about you thank me by carrying me to bed?”
Sex would be good. It wasn’t an urgent need, but Jay wouldn’t say no, not if it diverted the issue and stopped Dean from worrying. Whatever Dean had to tell him, he would get around to it. He always did.
“Carry?” Dean made a poor try at discretion, trying to tuck himself back into his underpants without making it obvious. Jay did his best to ignore Dean’s entertaining attempt to bend a semi-hard prick into tight jeans. “If there’s any carrying, it’ll be caveman style, flung over my shoulder. Best I can manage.”
Jay pretended to consider the risk before grinning. “What gave you the idea I wasn’t fine with that?”
Chapter 8
With nerves jumping, Dean walked into the office. Homework! Looking at men’s bits and bobs. She hadn’t told him to watch porn or even to flick through photographs but she had implied. At least, seemed she had. She wanted him to view anything he cared to and consider how he reacted to the thought of male and female bodies. Now she wanted to talk.
“I didn’t take you for the sort to be embarrassed over things pertaining to sex.”
“I’m not.” So why act like it? “Fine. I’ll talk. You need me to say tits get me hot, I will.” When Candice didn’t react, heat flooded his face. He tried to embarrass her, ended up humiliating himself. “Breasts and vaginas, long legs, tight…” He intended to say arses, but stopped. “I’ve always loved everything about the female form.”
“What has been your reaction to men?”
He should say he hadn’t reacted to them, but he’d be lying, and wasting one of the six sessions she’d crammed in for him before Christmas. Time was running out on him. “I’ve…looked. Not in that way.”
“What way would that be?”
“I mean…I haven’t looked. I found myself in circumstances where I couldn’t help seeing, but…”
The room grew hotter. Did any of the windows open? Would it look peculiar if he got up to try one? Probably, this being December.
“Seeing?” Candice quirked an eyebrow.
“When I was at college…I saw men with women. And men with men.”
He couldn’t tell if the other eyebrow rising to join the first was quizzical, speculative, or plain doubtful.
“Not the orgy it sounds like. None of that went on. But…parties. Always one couple who used someone’s bed or groped in the corner of the room, on the sofa. One of the guys I shared a house with was pretty liberal when it came to sex. He didn’t mind an audience.” Odd Dean had always thought of himself as liberated before now. Appeared he had limits.
“So you saw two men having sex, in front of you?”
Dean nodded, the movement stiff and awkward.
“You didn’t think to leave the room?”
“None of the other guys did.”
“They were straight?”
“Varied. We had room for six to share, just about. Sometimes there were four of us, sometimes six. Three of us were there for the entire term. We had friends over, relatives, people we didn’t know some nights. A few were disgusted to learn a homosexual lived in the house. The ones who didn’t care…” Dean swallowed. “There were a few nights when things hap
pened. Not many. Nothing like that. Not even half a dozen times.” Though now, the figure seemed high.
Candice waited in her irritating, patient way. Why did she never step in when he most needed prompting? Dean’s throat dried. Took his resolve not to reach for a glass of water. She always left one ready as if she knew these sessions made him parched, sweaty, made his hands clammy.
“Not every man he brought home wanted sex in the living room in front of others, but some were…I dunno. I never questioned it. I mean even a few of the straight guys made out in front of others if the girl was willing.”
The expression on Candice’s face became pensive. Why? The probable answer struck a vicious blow. Christ, were any of the girls drunk? Some of them had to be. The other blokes were drunk. He had been drunk. What he’d thought of as fun and freedom came across as irresponsible now. “I don’t know what to tell you. We were young. Stupid.”
“The trouble with that is often someone gets hurt.”
“I realise that now. Didn’t think at the time.”
“You didn’t question someone having sex in front of you, or you didn’t question because they were gay?”
“Like I said, not just the gays. I’ve been with women willing to do the same thing so don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying gay men are naturally promiscuous or anything. They’re as varied as anyone else in my experience.”
“None were bisexual?”
“Not that I’m aware. It was just…sex.” There had to be a way to change the topic…if Candice let him. “Unless something disgusts you, there’s no particular reason to look away, not when offered the chance on a plate, so to speak. What I saw…I thought it made me curious. I didn’t think there had to be more to it so I watched. Like I told you, so did some of the other blokes. This wasn’t a weekly occurrence or anything.” He made college sound like a drunken Mediterranean holiday, far from the reality.
“But your curiosity didn’t end there. You said you’ve watched porn.”
“Yeah.” He hadn’t told her of the gay detective stories. He didn’t want her looking one up to read. No reason she would, but she might. Not that he had to mention the pen name. His ego wanted to but he couldn’t stomach Candice Hemingway ever finding out, so best he not say anything. Sure, if she read one, he might never know. How much of himself might he have given away in those pages, though? He didn’t want to give Candice any opportunity to find another way to analyse him.
“The images aroused you?”
“Sometimes. Sure. Yes. The sex.” Dean shifted in his seat.
“Did you want to try any of the things you saw?”
He might be capable of blushing after all. Dean didn’t look at her when he spoke. “Maybe. You can’t always help what goes on in your head. Doesn’t mean you want it for real.”
“No, it doesn’t. There’s a reason fantasies are so called. Sometimes when people try, the realism turns them off, or disappoints. I’m asking because it might help you to realise if there was a time when the line blurred. If you ever wanted to try.”
“You mean before Jay?” She didn’t confirm or deny that. Be honest. “Yes.”
“Did you have the opportunity?”
“I did nothing with a man before Jay.”
“Not what I’m asking you.”
“I…Opportunity? Sure. I mean I could have joined in…” He wouldn’t have, though, and he didn’t think he needed to tell Candice. “I didn’t want that, but I could have had a man if I wanted.” No doubt. Wasn’t arrogance. He’d never lacked female companionship; was positive he could have hooked up with a man.
If he’d wanted.
Thoughts sped. “I…thought about it, but never tried. I…” Dean swallowed again. If only he were anywhere but here. Candice couldn’t force him to talk. If he was unprepared to open up, what was the point, though? “I told myself any inclinations I had were because of what I had seen. I would never have gone through with it. Couldn’t.” He met her gaze. “I was too…scared.”
“Of what?”
He didn’t blame her for the question. To say he’d felt scared struck him as so foolish now. Of what had he to be scared? “I guess I had a set view of how my life should turn out. A job. A home. Meet someone. I thought of family as something likely in my future because…well, I was young enough for it to look possible, probable, but a long way off.”
“So family was something you wanted?”
“Not particularly, but, yes, it’s what most people do.”
“Dean, there’s no particular path everyone has to walk.”
“I know that.”
“And times have changed. If you want a family one day, you can have one with Jay.”
“I know.”
“The question is whether you wish it.”
“Sure.”
“Did you think more on what I asked you to consider?”
“Yeah.” She’d given him several possibilities. “One might apply.”
“Which?”
He didn’t want to say. Had to. “The first. That I never truly wanted a woman and knew it.” The questions she’d given him were all about the way he’d acted with women.
“Or, at least you knew you had an attraction for men and it affected the way you treated women.”
“There’s the chance I deliberately set out to sabotage myself. Yeah, I get it. Unsure I agree. I never was that self-aware.”
“The subconscious can be. That’s the idea. We do things we refuse to recognise or that don’t even occur to us because we’ve suppressed them so much.”
“But your saying I never wanted a relationship with any of these women because I leaned toward men doesn’t make it true.” It didn’t, but he feared it was. Could he sound any more defensive? If what she said was crap, why act so oversensitive?
“No, it doesn’t, but by your own definition your criteria of giving into love is to stumble across the right person. Is it possible the affection you always showed Jay has stemmed from a deeper well? To the same extent, it’s possible you led him on and fanned his emotions for you. Maybe those women didn’t love you because you didn’t want them to. You may have acted in a way to make sure they couldn’t.”
* * * *
No doubt April made something of Jay having so few friends, and fewer of them being gay. If she knew the idea equally struck Jay as odd, April would have a field day. He tried to shake the irritation the thought brought to the table but failed.
Lawrence counted among the small number of Jay’s gay…better to call them acquaintances, instead of friends. The lowly figures weren’t intentional or owing to an inability to form alliances. Jay’s interest in books and computers had given him a certain geek and nerd persona, which hadn’t helped him be the most popular, but he was fun loving enough and even attractive enough to invite familiarity. The lack of a busy social life was his being often busy, slightly shy, and disinterested in any serious relationship, in part because he’d always wanted Dean. The times he had tried to be more than friendly, particularly with other gay men, resulted in his either having casual sex—something that did little for him—or his being no more interested in prolonging the friendship than the man he’d met. All of which left him with few people to talk to, one being Lawrence, fellow I.T. graduate. Not that Lawrence was a bad choice. The man understood discretion despite being brash. His mind drifted back to how they had met.
No one could be more surprised Lawrence had come to Jay’s defence against one particular homophobic jerk. The image of Lawrence opening his trap without thought as always, his shout of, “wanker,” and next thing, Lawrence in the dirt, was one Jay would never forget. Jay hadn’t been able to contain his own shout of protest not that he remembered what he’d said. Whatever insults left his mouth distracted the thug long enough for Lawrence to pick himself up and to grab the bloke’s testicles in a particular vicious twist. Willowy as he was, Lawrence could take care of himself; the only reason he’d found himself flat on his face was owing to said jerk ha
ving taken him from behind, an event Lawrence had followed up with several ‘being taken from behind’ jokes ever since.
Why had he never told Dean how he and Lawrence had met? Maybe because Dean would have wanted to find the cretin no matter how many years had gone by—an attitude Dean and Lawrence shared.
By the same token, why had he told Lawrence something was going on with Dean, or that his sister was ‘acting up again’ after such a long break? Maybe he just needed to talk. No way to speak with Dean about April. Dean was preoccupied, and April was…he didn’t know what. Being vindictive but in a strange way. If he had to label her behaviour, he’d say she was more vexed than anything. If that weren’t the case, bringing up the matter of April with Dean might make the situation worse. Which left him sitting across from Lawrence.
“Sorry. Work.” Lawrence set aside his phone. “‘Scuse me for saying so, but your sister sounds like a dick.” He frowned. “Scrub that. Dicks are good.”
He winked and then took a bite of a doughnut. He’d eaten a baguette, and a cream slice. Both items Lawrence had made merriment over, comparing the baguette to the size of several dicks he’d played with while Jay had sat dutifully smiling. A genuine comic was Lawrence. Wouldn’t do to let the bloke know how funny he could be. As for the cream slice, those jokes had made Jay blush, which egged Lawrence on all the more. Now Jay sat envious of the mass of food Lawrence always polished off without consequences.
Jay wanted to say April meant well, but how often could someone say that about a person, even if it were true? “You’re not wrong.”
“What? About your sister? Or dicks being succcccculent.” Lawrence made several mmmmm mmmmm noises as he chewed. Fine, white sugary powder coated his lips. When he noticed Jay looking, he pursed his lips in a kiss.
“Either. Both.” Jay replied. “What is this? Late lunch or early dinner?”
“Do you think she has a point?” Lawrence ignored the reference to his food.
“What? No.”
Lawrence chewed, swallowed, and took a swig of coffee. “So you told her that actions speak louder than words?”
Christmas Angel Page 9