Unsure if Jay meant just this minute, tonight, or ever, it rather felt to Dean as though his heart skipped in his chest. Well, he’d wanted to know what it felt like to fuck Jay and now he’d discovered the answer. It felt far too good and too natural, Jay’s body just lean enough, just soft enough, just hard enough, tight enough. Pulling Jay’s body down onto his cock drew the other man against his lap. Folding his knees up under him, Dean leaned over. He might have known without trying, but their difference in stature allowed for just the right things to touch. The two of them could easily kiss while they fucked, even in this position.
Holding Jay’s head in place, he kissed him, letting their tongues entwine and dance, their mouths to fall open, their saliva and breath to mingle. When he pulled back, Jay’s lips looked as red and swollen as his nipples.
“Please.” Jay squirmed under him. “I need ...” A moan interrupted the sentence. Jay gulped as it trailed off. “Please. More. More movement.”
“You want me to fuck you?”
Jay’s eyes roved, seeking his gaze. When they connected, he swallowed, licked his lips and said, “You know I do. You know I always have. Always ...” Again, the words trailed off while Dean watched the lump in Jay’s throat bob as he swallowed again. “Always will,” Jay finally admitted.
Their bodies sealed together, the moment stretched out unendurable. With a full-throated growl, Dean gathered the smaller man up into his arms and lifted him bodily from the floor.
Jay rose, gasping a little. Those slim legs wrapped around his waist, the arms linked around his neck. Dean sat back on his heels, Jay’s body fused to his. Teeth clashed, tongues rasped against each other. Nails raked over already sensitive skin. Their hands wandered; mouths feasted. Jay’s cock presented itself as a solid line between their stomachs. He couldn’t thrust into Jay like this ‑‑ maybe it was possible, but he couldn’t seem to manage it in this moment ‑‑ but he wasn’t ready to change position. This was like a second round of foreplay. By the time he transferred Jay to the sofa and went up on his knees angling into him ... Fuck him? Hell, he wanted to crawl inside him.
Jay clawed at his skin, twisted, moving, opening his body, trying to find just the right pressure. A sticky pool glistened on his stomach, beads of clear fluid dripping like pearls from his cock. Dean clasped Jay’s hand and took it to the man’s cock. “Let me watch,” he said, and caught the fleeting uncertainty in Jay’s eyes before need washed it away. Jay’s hand took up a steady rhythm, one that would allow him to finish in moments. “Slow down,” Dean said, and watched while Jay struggled to obey, but managed to do so. The change of pace made him writhe in pleasure and Dean watched that too, watched Jay tossing his head, that cloud of hair flying, shrouding his body and face.
“Hate me?” Dean whispered when Jay seemed to recover enough to understand the question.
“God, no!”
“Hate what I’m doing to you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Even if I did it forever?”
The words escaped before he realised what he was actually saying. They certainly caught Jay’s attention. Even maintaining the rhythm between them, Jay gazed at him, his expression open, conveying pain. Dean could have bit off his tongue in that moment, if it meant he could take the words back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, so softly even he barely heard the apology. Louder, he said, “I’ll not lie with false promises.” He leaned closer. “But I can promise to make this something we’ll both remember.”
His hand took over on Jay’s cock, thumb slipping back and forth across the head in all that moisture. An unintelligible shout from the other man rang out, seeming to last long after it should have faded and died. Dean thrust and pounded, jerked his hand up and down, watched Jay’s face as his eyes drew back into his head just before they closed, lips peeling back from his teeth, body tensing, caught up in pleasure that erupted hot and thick over the back of his hand, coating his fingers. Still he thrust, seeking his own release, emptying his seed into that nether mouth that now sucked at him, open and greedy. Even as he moaned his release through gritted teeth, he leaned forward and sealed their mouths together. Opening his lips, he plunged his tongue in, plundering Jay’s mouth just as he plundered that hidden region, until their bodies eased, and they collapsed, sagging together, replete.
Chapter Eleven
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Dean lately.” April’s searching eyes flickered back and forth. Jay struggled not to look away from her steady gaze. She would suspect something if he did. She waited and then sighed. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Damn! She suspected anyway. He shook his head. “He’s a mate. I’ve been working on his computer for him, upgrading it.”
“That’s lame, Jay. It doesn’t take that long to do an upgrade, unless you’re getting mixed up and putting things into the wrong slots.”
Jay stared at his sister. Even for April that was too blunt. He watched as her eyes changed from suspicion to anger. “What is wrong with you?” she hissed, leaning over the table. They were at a local burger outlet, but sat picking at their food rather than eating it. The food, now cold, no longer looked fit for consumption. So much for lunch. A woman with a child glanced at them, clearly hearing April’s fury, and then ushered the toddler away as though they might be dangerous. In April’s case, it was a wise precaution. She looked practically feral.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Like hell. I can’t prove it and you won’t tell me, fine. I’m not stupid though, so don’t treat me like I am.”
“You’re the one who sent Dean round to see me,” he interrupted. That seemed a safe accusation. It gave nothing away.
“I sent him around to ...” She stopped, glanced around apparently to check no one listened in on them, and then lowered her voice. “I wanted you to patch up your friendship, not get hot and heavy.”
Equally angry now, Jay found he could meet her gaze. Despite what she said, this was her fault. He’d been happily pissed at Dean. If April had stayed out of it, things could have remained that way. His heart wouldn’t be at such risk. “I can’t be held responsible for your sick imagination.”
Her gaze narrowed. The look chased back some of his anger. He swallowed, hoping she wouldn’t notice. All too easily, his mind drifted to the other night. After having sex in the living room ‑‑ the carpet burn on his shoulder proved it was more than a dream ‑‑ they’d moved into the bedroom. There ...
“Chocolate or vanilla?”
“What?” Dean frowned down at him.
“Just answer.”
“Sex or ice cream?”
Jay laughed. “I mean ice cream, of course.”
Dean shrugged. “Doesn’t matter anyway. Definitely chocolate.”
“Electric light or candles.”
Dean’s expression turned quizzical, but he looked amused with it. “Candles.”
“Real fire or fake?”
“Real.”
“Sweet or spicy?”
“Spicy.” Dean growled out the word.
“Summer or winter?”
“Both.” He hesitated. “Hmm ... I’m maybe edging towards winter and long, dark nights.” Those huge hands started to roam.
“Red or white wine?” Jay gasped out, his breathing growing erratic.
“Definitely both.” Warm, full lips began kissing his face, moving in tighter circles towards his mouth.
“Dog or cat?” Jay managed to moan.
Dean stopped kissing, blinking in surprise. “Well, right now in my life, neither, but why not both?”
Jay started laughing. “I knew it!” The expression on Dean’s face made him laugh all the harder, until the only way Dean could hope to shut him up was to ...
He closed his eyes, remembering. He’d lied when he called Dean a lousy kisser. The other night, the man wouldn’t stop kissing him, stroking him. Every time he tried to get a word out, Dean’s lips silenced his. He often ran
his hands over Dean’s body, trying to make a living sketch in his memory. In years to come, he wanted to be able to close his eyes and move his hands as though that flesh still existed above him, looming over him. He understood his reason for it, but that night ... It was as though Dean tried to do the same thing.
Hands gripped him and lifted him, sat him on Dean’s lap, even though they were in bed. His head fit naturally in the curve of Dean’s shoulder, his head falling back, lips tilted up for yet another kiss and Dean’s lips met his, hungry, passionate. Those large hands caressed him, stroking and exploring, then reaching down to cup other things, tearing a moan from his throat. Before, when Dean touched him intimately, the contact was ... Well, cautious was a good way to describe it. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to work out Dean felt awkward touching another man. Putting his cock into somewhere it fitted nicely was one thing. Jay could imagine many men doing that, but to handle another guy, to kiss him, to share affection, took the experience to a different level. Whatever happened, it warmed his heart to know that Dean wanted to share pleasure with him, not just take it. Then, as though the experienced changed for him, Dean had touched him in an entirely different way, not just as a way to get him off, but as a mutual kind of play. Those large hands fondled his cock and balls as though they were indeed jewels, beautiful to look, play with, and priceless. Every cry he made Dean swallowed down, as most of the time no more than an inch separated them at the mouth. They spent most of the time kissing, even while they touched.
Then later, in the same position as they’d started making love in the living room, with Jay on his back, legs wrapped around Dean’s hips, only this time the mattress made it more comfortable, their movements were indolent, unhurried. Having come once, this time they took their time, all the while, Dean staring down into his eyes, stroking his face, kissing him ‑‑ from little pecks of affection, to raw, hard, devouring passion, and all the stages in between. He could swear even days later his lips still felt swollen from the onslaught and even when they finished, Dean remained inside him, foreheads pressing, silence speaking for them when they couldn’t bear to talk ...
Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was April staring at him. Cold horror seeped through his limbs. He didn’t want to get into this with his sister. She could make him pay in oh so many ways. She sat back, arms folded, still staring.
“He’s a user and you know it. He’s a control freak. He’s a nice guy with a peculiar dark side. I’ve just never figured out what he’s hiding.”
Jay just stared at her. He only realised he sat shaking his head at her, when her eyes flicked from side to side as though following the movement. “Have you forgotten everything? Have you forgotten so easily?”
“What’s to forget?”
“All the good things he’s ever done for us?”
She laughed. “Such as?”
“Such as putting the other boys in their place when they got too heavy handed or mouthy around you.”
April sighed. “He did that to get on my good side.”
“Maybe, but why did he help us with our homework? Why did he always wait for us and walk us home? Why did he include us in everything?”
“Jay, we were friends. The three of us hung out. We studied together. So what? You and I took a couple of after school activities and Dean waited to walk home with us. So what?”
“He didn’t have to. It was always like he was taking care of us or something.”
“If that’s true, he had his own agenda for it.”
Jay just sat back, shaking his head. “All I remember is Dean being a good friend to us.”
This time, she snorted. Even knowing why, Jay lost his patience. “So he liked you. The fact is, it didn’t take him long to realise he didn’t stand a chance. He was our friend then and our friend just a short time ago. Why has that changed so much in your eyes?”
“A short while ago, he wasn’t breaking my brother’s heart.”
“If that’s what you believe, you’re an idiot.”
Her eyes went wide and then narrowed dangerously. He couldn’t retract the words, so the only thing he could do that might stop April launching her body across the table at him was to elaborate. “You want to rip it out of me? You want me to say how I feel, then fine. My heart’s already broken. It broke the day we moved here and Dean first smiled at me. Sure, I was young, but I already knew I was gay. Even I expected what I felt for him to fade with age, but it didn’t. It grew.”
“That sounds like obsession.”
“No.” Jay shook his head. “I’ve asked myself that same question, but no. I just love him. I love the teenager who mended my bike, who sat reading to me once when I was ill, who likes to get his hands dirty and dream about cars he’ll never have the time to drive. Who likes books, movies, and doughnuts that he hardly ever eats because he knows they’re unhealthy. The guy who smiles at fireworks, always insists on watching a horror movie on Halloween, gapes at paintings or closes his eyes when he listens to music. What I don’t understand is how you miss all those things.”
“He’s a womaniser.”
Jay laughed. “If that’s true, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“I said he was a womaniser. I didn’t say that didn’t mean he wasn’t fucking around with you. He’s a cocksman and you’re an orifice.”
Jay understood April cared for him, but this level of animosity seemed exaggerated. ““He’s not a womaniser. He’s young. We’re all young. You’re a bit older than me, but not by much. Sometimes, I swear you forget you’re still in your twenties. What is it, April? Boyfriend number five or six?”
“That’s not that many.”
“I was just talking about this year.” April’s gaze narrowed until it wrinkled the skin around her eyes, making her look ancient. A hint of nervousness eased into him. He shouldn’t try to spar with April. She usually won.
“You say we’re young.” It sounded like a question so he nodded. “Young enough for us to have the time to find someone? Young enough to wait to fall in love?”
He glared at her, the word “bitch” on his tongue felt like a barb piercing it, but he held it in check. April unfolded her arms and fished about in her handbag bringing out her mobile phone, her jaw set in a belligerent tight line. She started placing a call.
“What would you do?” Jay asked her. “What would you do if you had to walk round cradling a broken heart or have something good to remember to go with it?”
“It won’t be good when he finally comes to his senses and realises what he’s been doing. It won’t be a good memory when he throws recriminations back in your face.” She lifted the phone to her ear.
“What are you doing?”
She just looked at him while she waited. Apparently, someone answered. She spoke. “Hi. Just hold on.” She held out the phone. “Dean is a selfish, maniacal control freak. You’re perfect for him because you’d probably bend over backwards if he told you to. He’s lost his chance with most of the women around here because women don’t do what a man tells them to do.”
“Neither do I,” Jay snapped.
“Bullshit. Where Dean is concerned, you’d do just about anything.”
Jay stared at her and then stared at the phone, realising whomever she had called was on the line. “Who did you ring?” he asked, a little horrorstruck.
She sighed. “This is my fault. I should have known better. I should have known I needed to protect you. I shouldn’t have told him how you feel.”
“You ... What?” Jay forgot the phone and glared at her. “What did you tell him?”
She gave him one of her know-it-all, patronising looks. He sat very still for just a minute and then lunged, trying to snatch the phone from her. She calmly took it out of his reach and took it to her ear. “Dean, you’re a wanker, an arsehole, and an arse-wipe.” She turned the phone off and dropped it into her handbag.
“How ... How could you?” He didn’t doubt for a minute that she had actually called Dean
and that he had heard their conversation.
“I guess you’ll have to have an intelligent chat for once.”
“Maybe. Once I get through apologising.”
April leaned forward over the table. Her gaze couldn’t be described as anything less than intent. “Don’t ever apologise for me, Jay,” she warned. “And tell Dean he’d better stay the hell out of my way for the next few days. Maybe even eternity.”
* * * * *
Dean stared at the phone in his hand, blinking, stupefied with amazement. Jay and April were obviously having a conversation ... about him!
“Does the owner want us to use the manufacturer’s part or the cheaper option?”
“What?” Dean jumped as Mark encroached into his personal space. “Oh ...” He tried to remember which vehicle Mark was working on. “The cheap option.”
Mark nodded in understanding, struggling with something in his hands, some bolt he seemed to have trouble undoing. “Thank god, it’s Friday tomorrow.”
“Hmm?”
“I said, thank god, it’s almost Friday. You know, you seem a bit distracted lately. Not seen you down at The Mixer. Time you put it about a bit. You need to get your leg over, relax.”
The Mixer was a local bar and grill, so called because you could mix your drinks, mix your cocktails and mix the food on your plate. Dean liked their version of Surf ‘n’ Turf, which included three varieties of shellfish and two meats. He always ate it with a salad to ease the guilt of how unhealthy all that red meat was, but he hadn’t been down there for some time and not because of Jay. Well, not just because of him, anyway. The Mixer wasn’t the kind of place to pick someone up, so it might have seemed odd that Mark was talking about him getting his leg over, if it weren’t for Lillian. She worked behind the bar and all the guys had tried to ask her out at least once since she started work there. She made it quite clear if he asked she might say yes, but so far he always ignored the offer, wanting to do so for a couple of reasons. He wanted to see how long she would keep hinting and by the time he asked her out, the other guys would be drooling so much they would be staring at him in envy. For the first time ever that sounded petty. Am I really that shallow?
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