by Raven, Jo
I don’t know why, but I need to hear her voice.
She picks up on the second ring. “Joey! Where have you been? I’ve missed you, big brother.”
I grin, padding over to the window to stare out at the faint lights of the street below. “Missed you, too, Evie. What’s up? How’s Micah?”
That’s her boyfriend. I’ve never seen my little sis so in love before. He’s a good guy. I wasn’t convinced at first, swayed by my parents’ vehement opposition to Evie dating him. He’s a poor, young inker at Zane Madden’s Damage Control tattoo shop, and the fact he’s an orphan and spent some time on the streets was enough reason to believe he’s trash, or so my parents insisted. So did Evie’s ex-boyfriend and ex-buddy of mine.
I’m glad I listened to my own mind in the end and helped them be together. I’m happy for them. I wish I had something like that.
And when did I turn into such a sap, huh? Fuck.
“Joey. You there?”
“Uh huh.” I turn away from the window, pinch the bridge of my nose. “Sorry, long day.”
“What’s on your mind?” A pause. “You’ve found someone, haven’t you?”
I’d deny it, but my sis knows me too well. “Yeah, well.”
“So Ellen is finally in the rear-view mirror?”
“Yup.” I huff, run my fingers through my hair. “I know you never liked her.”
“Nothing against her,” Evie says, chuckling. “I just knew she wasn’t the one for you.”
“And who is the right one for me, huh?”
“Dunno. Only you can know that. The one that makes your heart pound, and your knees weak, that turns your brain to mush and you can’t think of anything but her. The one you worry about, you want to look good for, the one you want to kiss and have wild sex with… Are you taking notes, Joey? I’m not going to repeat myself.”
I laugh. “Gotcha, sis. And if…” I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “And if I felt that way about a guy, what would you…?” Ah fuck. “Forget it.”
“Joey.”
That one word, my name, stops me from hanging up. I force myself to stand still, keep the phone against my ear. Waiting.
“Joey, it’s okay.”
“It’s not. I’m not a faggot, and I’m not a pervert. I just… I can’t…”
“It’s really okay.”
“No, you don’t get it. I’m not saying there is a guy. Or a girl. Shit. Fuck.”
She makes an excited sound. “Don’t you dare hang up. I have things to say.”
I groan. “Fine. But Evie—”
“It’s okay to like both girls and boys.”
“It’s sick.”
“Who told you that? Our parents? Listen to me, big guy. Wanting a guy, or a girl, or both, is okay. It’s okay to like both. Have you even Googled it? Sexuality. It’s not unusual to be bisexual, Joey. There’s absolutely nothing wrong about that, no matter what we were raised to believe. You should do what makes you happy.”
I nod, although she can’t see me. I bow my head, struggling to calm down my breathing. “I don’t want a guy, though. Only a girl.”
I don’t want Jet that way. I don’t.
I can’t. Even if he tastes like sin. Caring for him as a friend is one thing. Wanting him is quite another.
“Okay.” She sounds vaguely amused and sad at the same time. “That’s for you to tell, Joey. Just remember it’s okay to follow your desires. We’re adults. We can make our own decisions, as long as they don’t hurt others.”
She’s wise for her years, my sis. I sometimes forget she’s not the little girl with pigtails I used to tease anymore. She’s wiser than me, although that’s not that hard. She’s accepted herself.
I’m still struggling to get myself accepted by others.
“You haven’t even told me the name of this girl who’s got you all twisted up,” Evie teases. I can hear the smile in her voice. “If not Ellen, then who?”
“Candace.” I struggle to get my thoughts back in order. “Candy.”
Evie giggles. “Really?”
“Yeah. Why, what’s wrong with Candy?”
“Nothing. Ooh that’s so funny!”
“What is?”
“There’s this blog that’s making waves lately because of a story the blogger has been posting. It’s a story about two guys and a girl getting it on, and, get this… It’s called Candy Boys.”
I scowl at the dashboard of my car, which needs a good cleaning. Like my brain. “What’s that got to do with me?”
“Nothing, I told you, it’s just that… she calls the boys J-One and J-Two. J & J, like you and Jethro. And her name is Candy…” She giggles some more. “Oh man, I read some of the chapters, and they’re superhot.”
Right. That’s what you get when you call your baby sister for support. “Gotta go, sis. Have fun reading smut online.”
“We should get together sometime. I want to meet this Candy. Call me?”
“Sure.”
I disconnect and lean back in my seat, my mind churning. J-One and J-Two? And a girl called Candy. That’s a hell of a coincidence.
But it’s a coincidence, I tell myself. Nothing more. Candy would never write a running commentary on what’s going on with us.
Would she?
Cold sweat drips down my back. Not another scandal, fuck, no. But it’s not, right? Just because the names sort of fit doesn’t mean this has anything to do with us.
With me.
Candy Boys, huh? I’ll Google it later, just to see what it’s about. Paranoia is a hard weed to kill.
***
The bookshop is closed and locked. I frown, glancing at my watch. Didn’t realize I was so late. Thinking they must be at home, I drive there, but when I let myself in, the apartment is dark and quiet.
It seems empty, and there’s a strange pressure in my chest, a mixture of worry and yearning I don’t know what to do with.
“Jet?” I call out. “You here, dude?”
A noise from the kitchen draws my attention, and I wander toward it, shucking off my jacket and shoes on the way. I poke my head inside the door, and there he is, standing in the dark, his form outlined in silver from the faint glow of the summer sky coming through the window.
“Whatcha doing like this, twatface? What’s up?”
He turns away from me, and flinches when I grab his arm. “You’re back.”
“Yeah, got off work late. Passed by the shop, but it was closed already. Sorry I missed you.”
“No worries, mate.”
But now I am, because he still hasn’t looked at me, and his shoulders are stiff. “Did something happen today? Come on, Jet, talk to me.”
“Everything’s fine.”
The brittle, hollow tone of his voice is what shatters my control. I grab his arm, yank him around and slam him back against the wall.
“Stop hiding from me.”
“Like you’re hiding from me?” His lips are bloodless, his eyes hooded. “Fuck you, J.”
“Dammit, don’t.” I shake him and he flinches, hard. Rattled, I stop. “I’m not you. You know what you want, who you are. You know your place in the world. I’m fucking jealous of you.”
“You’re fucking nuts, that’s what you are.”
“I’m confused as hell,” I admit, my voice rough, my pulse deafening in my ears. “But I’m here for you. Have I ever let you down? Let me in, dammit. I know your family is a mess, but—”
“You know nothing.” But sadness tightens his face. “J…”
Fuck. “Tell me. You said, years ago, that your parents were kinda crazy, that they were never around. Is there more?” I can’t help it, I shake him again. I need answers. “Shit, Jet, I may be confused about a lot of things but not when it comes to caring for you. Talk to me, asshole.”
His mouth twists. “Nothing you can do, J.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Fuck you.” But he presses back into the wall, as if he wants to disappear in it. His hair
has lost its spikiness tonight. It tumbles softly on his forehead. It makes him look very young.
And I’m pressed really close to him, holding his arm against the wall, and…
“Tell me about your parents,” I say, and this time I’m not taking no for an answer.
He has to see it in my face, because he deflates.
“I always thought my parents were normal,” he says, his soft voice distracting me from the feel of his body on mine. “Only they weren’t. Mom was distant. Scared to speak or do anything but clean the house and cook, then rock in a chair at the window. And my father… He didn’t drink, or play cards, or even smoke. He went to work, came back. But he had terrible arguments with my mother, and occasionally he’d get violent with her.”
“And you?”
Jet shrugs. “He’d beat me sometimes. Nothing life-threatening. Sure, I was scared of him, but I never landed in the hospital or anything. Mom would send me to hide when they fought.” He licks his lips. “Once he beat her up pretty bad. I was little, but I think… I think I remember that. It scared me shitless.”
Goddammit.
“Life was more or less normal.” He’s shivering, his face very pale, so pale I’m worried he’ll slide down the wall. “Everything was okay, or so I thought. Then, when I was sixteen, my dad… he killed my mom.”
Shock jerks me like a bullet through the chest. “The hell? How? Why?”
Jet shakes his head. “They hadn’t even argued all that loud that day. Picked up a kitchen knife and stabbed her until she died. Who the fuck knows why.”
Dread is seeping into my bones, cold like ice. “And you? Where were you?” His eyes flick to the window, his cheeks ashen, and it’s like a punch in the chest. “You were there. You saw it happen, didn’t you?”
He nods. “I was there, on the stairs.”
The ice is wrapping around my spine, crackling. “And then?” When he doesn’t speak, I dig my fingers harder into his arm. “Jet, did he hurt you?”
He knocks his head back against the wall, and I wince at the thud. “He left. He turned, looked at me. He fucking looked at me, like he knew I’d been there all along, then he opened the door of the house and left. He was never found. Police declared him missing since then.”
No wonder he always wears black.
“Holy shit, Jet.” I lift my other hand to his face, rub his rough stubble with my thumb. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
He just shrugs, his expression unreadable.
“And your cousin calling you all the time? What’s that about?” He ducks his face, but I’m not letting him hide again, not after this. I grab his chin and turn it back toward me. “Tell me. I wanna help you.”
“It’s… not connected to that.” He won’t look at me, though, and I can’t tell if he’s telling the truth or not.
I brush my thumb over his mouth. Soft. Warm. He inhales sharply.
“Fine. I’ll let you off the hook for that one. For now.” I brush his mouth again and his lips part, his breath washing warm over my thumb.
I lean closer, press his arm harder on the wall. My intention is to tell him it’s gonna be okay. That he has me, now, that I’ll look after him. We’re best buddies, thick as thieves.
What happens, though, is that I’m kissing him, my tongue slipping into his mouth, my lips desperately moving over his. Our bodies slam together, his hand comes up to my head, clutches the back of my neck, keeping our mouths fused.
Oh hell. He’s hard, hardening against my leg, and I shift without a second thought, aligning our cocks. They press together through our pants, and he groans in my mouth—or maybe I’m the one groaning. I can’t tell.
Not sure what’s happening, but it feels amazing. It feels right, to be kissing him, touching him, and the way he’s kissing me back, holding me close… frenzied, desperate, a little rough. Fuck, yeah. It makes my dick throb and my balls twitch.
I only wish Candy were here, but then he bites on my lower lip, and my brain short-circuits. I can practically feel the blood rushing to my dick, feel it swell, pressing so painfully against my zipper I gasp and release his arm to reach down and adjust myself before permanent damage is caused.
His hand follows mine, cups my dick through my pants. He squeezes and I buck into his palm, not caring about anything but some friction to ease the pressure.
His tongue battles with mine and we pant, lips on lips, biting and breathing each other’s oxygen, hard, open-mouthed kisses that turn my blood to molten lava.
I push his hand away from my crotch to place it on his. His hard-on is a steel rod in his jeans, and we palm it, my hand on top of his. I drag his hand up and down his dick, feeling him shudder, feeling his dick harden more.
He wrenches his mouth from mine to moan, his head falling back. I suck on his neck, on his salty skin, stroking him harder, faster.
His legs tremble, spread wider, his eyes fall shut as a hissing breath escapes him. “Yes.”
His cock jerks under our hands, and it sends shock waves right into my dick. He clamps a hand on my shoulder, his hips rocking, wetness seeping through his pants.
Holy shit. I raise my head to watch him as he comes, and I bite back a moan at the blissed-out expression on his face.
After the last tremor fades, he sighs. Slowly his lashes lift and he gazes at me, his eyes hazy, pupils blown. “Damn, I wanna suck you off.”
I blink, my mind not processing. I open my mouth to reply, but find nothing to say.
Fuck no.
Hell yeah.
Christ, what am I doing?
By then, he’s the one pushing me back, until I hit the counter, and he puts his hands on my zipper. “Don’t you think Candy would like to watch this?” he whispers darkly. “Wouldn’t it turn her on?”
A choked-back moan is the best I can do in way of reply as he pulls down the zipper and shoves down my pants and briefs.
My cock springs free, slapping my stomach, and I moan.
I grip the edge of the counter so tightly it presses painfully into my palms, but I barely feel it. “I’m not… Jet.”
His hand strokes over my cock. His gaze is locked on it. “What do you have to lose? All that can happen is that you won’t like it.”
That’s not what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid I’ll like it too much.
“Tell me what you want, J,” he whispers.
But still I can’t speak.
“Guys do this all the time. It’s called experimenting.” His strong hand kneads my erection until I think I’ll go crazy. “You ever had a guy suck you? It’ll blow your mind.”
I manage to let go of the counter in order to grab his face and yank him to me. I kiss him hard, drowning in his taste.
Next thing I know he’s down on his knees, and wet heat surrounds my dick. Heat. Pressure. The rasp of a rough tongue. Gasping I look down at his dark head as he swallows me all the way, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping hard enough to leave bruises.
And I like it. Shit, it’s turning me on so much I’m groaning and rocking into his mouth like a manwhore. I can’t stop. Couldn’t if I tried.
His dark eyes flick up at me, amused and wide and wary as he takes me in so deep he chokes a little. But he doesn’t let up. I have one hand in his hair and the other on the counter, the only thing keeping me upright as he deep-throats me again.
“Jet, I’m gonna…” I grunt as the pressure in my balls starts to shatter. “Gonna come.”
He hums around my cock, his hands digging into the backs of my thighs, and I’m done.
Chapter Twenty Seven
JETHRO
Joel mock punches me, and I shove him back against the lockers of the changing rooms at the gym. “That all you got?” he teases, then shoves me right back.
If only he’d let me touch him in a different way, not so violent. Not to punch but caress him, not to tease but fucking kiss him…
But I guess that will stay a fantasy forever.
I don’t know how my day has gone f
rom bad as hell to taking Joel’s cock down my throat, but I’m not one to complain. I’ve fantasized about this for a long time, and he tastes damn good. Clean, salty, sparkling on my tongue. He’s too big to swallow whole, but I do my best, sucking on him, licking, teasing with my tongue.
The way his big dick fills my mouth is a shot straight to my guts. I can feel my own cock swelling again, hanging heavy between my legs as I kneel on the cold floor, my jeans shoved down around my ankles, like bonds.
Oh God, yeah. I moan around his cock, and it jerks, salty precum seeping from the small slit on the head. I pull back a little, suck him back inside, lick the underside, doing to him every fucking thing I like done on me.
His fingers are pulling painfully on my hair, and he’s all but wrenching the counter off the wall, the way he’s gripping it with his other hand. His legs are shaking, his eyes are screwed shut, hair flopping in his face, and his mouth is slack.
He’s so damn hot.
Fuck, I’m about to shoot just from blowing him. I only hooked up with one guy before, in a bar, and he blew me in a stall in the men’s bathroom, but as for me, I’ve never gone down on a guy before.
Never really wanted to. Not until Joel, even though I knew before I met him I like dudes that way, not just chicks.
“Jet…” His breathless plea has me sucking harder, just to hear him moan, just to feel his dick twitch.
And it does. He gasps, hunching over me, his cock jumping in my mouth. “Jet, I’m gonna come.”
He tries to push me off him, tugging on my hair, but no way am I stopping now. I don’t budge, moaning softly as my dick throbs, demanding attention, and suck harder. Unable to stop myself, I drop a hand to my hard-on and wrap my hand around it.
Ah fuck.
He comes in my mouth in a rush of saltiness, his long moan filling the room, his hand convulsing in my hair. I swallow, suck, swallow another wave, and then…
My orgasm bursts from me, hitting me so hard I almost fall against his legs. I groan, riding the sharp edge of pleasure, while he’s still coming in my mouth, gasping my name.