by Noah Harris
“Okay. I am going to do something else. Here, take my hand – I want you to try to not shove me, if you do its ok. But if it bothers you, just squeeze my hand twice. That’s it. That is all you have to do. If it’s okay at first, but that you aren’t sure and want to stop, squeeze twice. Okay?”
Jon had wet his lips before stammering, “Oh-all right.”
“Good – I have been wanting to do this for two days.” Charge had ducked his head and put his lips to the corner of Jon’s mouth. He had waited before shifting his mouth fully over Jon’s and kissed him in a rather chaste kiss.
Ever since that first kiss, Charge had taken every opportunity to touch and kiss Jon. The one evening Jon had managed to have time to work on the Morgan with Charge, the younger man had caught Jon’s shirt over the dismantled engine between them and pulled him so that their mouths had met at the halfway point. That time Charge had run his tongue temptingly over Jon’s lips, but he had pulled back when those laved lips had parted in invitation.
“One step at a time,” Charge had murmured softly before reaching for a socket.
The next touch and kiss had been when the younger man had caught Jon just before he poured his coffee and had pulled him back against the broad expanse of bare tanned chest. Surprised, Jon had turned his head to look over his shoulder. Charge had seized his mouth in a blisteringly hot kiss, sliding his tongue between Jon’s lips to briefly flick and stroke against Jon’s. Still, he had kept the exchange brief, finishing by sucking Jon’s lower lip into his mouth.
“Mmmm, good morning,” Charge had growled, his voice rough in the morning.
The weekend had been full of hands stroking over his back, shoulders, arms and neck. If he thought about it, Jon blushed. He was being seduced. The type of seduction that made romantics cry tears of joy, but, good grief, it was almost embarrassing to be the nearly-40 not exactly virgin being wooed.
Jon’s alarm sounded in the dark. The sound elicited an annoyed meow from Kitty where she had spent the night, sprawled across the arm of the chair in his room. It was earlier than normal – his flight out of the airport on the Southside of Houston left at 9 and TSA was becoming increasingly tedious.
Throwing back the covers, Jon dropped his feet to the floor and hitting the button to disengage the alarm with a knuckle, he strode through the dark into the bathroom. Setting the dimmer for a nice low light, Jon cranked on the hot water, stripped off the lounge pants he had slept in, and stepped under the fall of water. The relaxing torrent fell from overhead in a thick waterfall-like sheet. The sluicing flood never failed to soothe and energize him for the day.
Charge waited until he heard the sound of water hitting tiles, before sitting up on the bed. As he was actually human with this wake up, he padded on bare feet to the door. He considered going without the lounge pants, but decided that prudence was his best friend. He grabbed them off the end of the bed and stepped into them. Opening the door silently, Charge strode down the hall to the door to Jon’s room, rolling his shoulders in anticipation, he pulled against the cracked door.
A flash of silver streaked past him.
Clever girl. You know something is up.
Charge followed the sound of water through a door on the same wall as the one he had entered through. Charge had to struggle to not gawk at Jon’s bathroom it was a sea of cool-toned stone and glass. A sunken tub was settled under a window and the shower stood next to it, the water falling from a trough-like spigot piped from the ceiling.
Focusing on the long, nude, wet form beyond the glass, Charge let his lips curve in a predatory smile before forcing them straight again. He stepped up to the glass door and eased it wide on its gleaming hinges. Charge cinched the drawstring of his lounge pants tighter as he stepped into the shower with a still unaware Jon.
Jon didn’t know he wasn’t alone until strong hands slid over his wet shoulders. Involuntarily, he flinched.
“Hush,” Charge’s sleep-roughened voice soothed. “The same rules apply: squeeze twice and I will stop.”
Jon didn’t know if he nodded, but Charge’s mouth was on his neck while those large hands slid over his shoulders to stroke down his chest. Charge eased him fully under the fall of the water, sliding his hands in long strokes over Jon’s skin. When Jon leaned back against the younger man, he felt the wet fabric of Charge’s pants chafe against his ass.
“You’re still wearing…” Jon began in a murmur.
“You aren’t ready for me to take them off,” Charge whispered against Jon’s ear before catching the lobe between his teeth and tugging as his hands slid lower.
“Umm…”
“You know how to make me stop. Don’t be afraid to do it.”
“But what if I squeeze and I don’t want you to.” Jon hissed as Charge’s hand slid down to touch him the way he had been fantasizing ever since that first night he had brought the younger man home with him.
Charge chuckled against Jon’s neck, “I guess you’ll have to put my hand back if you want it.”
Charge wrapped his fingers around Jon’s cock, and stroked him from head to base. He felt the ridges and blood pulsing under his fingertips. When he loosened his grip, Jon’s length jerked insistently in his hand.
Not bad, long like the rest of him. Though, I’m sorry Jon – this Latin boy has you beat.
Charge stroked firmly and evenly, he almost stopped when Jon pulled his hands away from his wrists, but kept the caress going when Jon’s hands slapped wetly against the glass wall in front of him.
“Oh,” Jon groaned thickly, his fingers flexing, leaving obviously clenching prints against the steam fogged glass.
“You like it like this?” Charge asked. “Or this?” he murmured, as he changed his hold on Jon’s cock to stroke and tease the sensitive ridge under the head of Jon’s cock.
“Fuck,” the full human hissed. “Ch-Charge.”
“Tell me, Jon. Which do you want?”
“I like both,” he moaned.
Charge smiled and felt his fangs catch his lower lip. “I think I can manage that,” he snarled against Jon’s ear. Charge continued to play with the bundle of nerves throbbing beneath the head of Jon’s cock while his other hand wrapped around the base and stroked firmly.
At a particularly throaty moan, Jon took one of his hands away from the glass to press it against his mouth. Charmed, Charge took the hand that had been stroking the length of Jon’s cock away from the shaft to pull Jon’s hand from his mouth. Jon groaned unintelligibly in protest. Instead of putting the older man’s hand back to the glass, Charge lowered it to join his own where it still played about the bulging head of Jon’s cock.
“Here, if you don’t need this one to help hold you up, stroke yourself.”
“Charge –” Jon gasped as Charge wrapped Jon’s fingers around the base of the shaft.
“Do it,” Charge insisted, practically purring with his own need. “I want to touch you elsewhere,” he said as he scraped his human nails up over the ridges of Jon’s abdominals.
Desperately aroused, Jon began to stroke himself. He was blissfully past the point of embarrassment and it was gratifying to feel the bulge of Charge’s erection, even through the wet cotton between them.
Charge was right – Jon wasn’t ready for them both to be naked, especially as he could feel that Charge was no averagely proportioned man. Charge was perceptive enough to realize that truth. Still, Jon could tell that the younger man was more than ready to jump to the next step; that he would wait was as arousing as the heady stroke of his hands over Jon’s burning, wet skin.
Before he could anticipate it, Jon’s long body arched back against Charge’s still bigger one. Jon’s hand tightening and stroking faster without his conscious thought. Charge’s fingers kept their insistent pace as the younger man’s other hand raised to turn Jon’s face toward his own.
As the water rushed over them, Jon slitted his eyes to glimpse Charge’s beautiful face before he was overwhelmed by those perfect lips. He wou
ld have sworn that those gold eyes had were more like Kitty’s than any humans should be, but convinced himself that it was a trick of the low light and rushing water.
Charge sealed his mouth over Jon’s as Jon’s body began to vibrate before it jerked hard. Once, twice, a third time. With every heaving thrust of his hips, Jon cried out in pleasure against Charge’s firm lips, as Charge drove his tongue between his lips.
Finally, Jon sagged against him. Charge fought the harsh demands of his body as Jon panted into his mouth. The orgasm had been hard, and while part of him wished he had been able to indulge in one of equal magnitude, Charge could admit he felt quite satisfied knowing he had given one of doubtlessly the most intense climaxes of Jon’s experience.
Damn, if he does that from a different type of stimulation, I will be one happy cat. I could kill whoever hurt him for making him bottle that kind of passion away all these years.
Jon was still in a daze as he boarded his flight. Charge had offered to drive him to the airport, but Jon had wanted the time to calm down before facing the misery of clearing airport security. He was always selected as the token white male to “prove” that TSA agents weren’t racially profiling.
After tucking the Challenger into the parking spot in the guarded long-term parking garage, Jon had sat a moment and relished a brief flashback to the shower. While he had been unsure, not of Charge, but of himself, when the younger man’s hands had first touched his bare skin, not once had he panicked. Instead, Jon had been able to enjoy the feeling of another person for the first time in years.
As the plane jetted down the tarmac, Jon thought about the feeling of Charge’s hands stroking and teasing all over again. After hitting a premium altitude the flight attendant came by to offer coffee – Jon easily accepted, and smiling at the mug thought of what might happen when he got back to Houston after the symposium.
XI
Wednesday morning, Jon’s cell phone rang as he knotted his tie around his neck. He lifted it and checked the display hoping it was Charge’s morning call. He had called each day and texted pictures of Kitty with quippy messages throughout the day.
Jon’s favorite had come on Monday night. Charge had sent a picture of Kitty sprawling across his bare chest. With the message:
I did not agree to prematurely gray chest hair!
Jon had spent several minutes laughing before calling Charge. Unfortunately, this call was not from the delightfully funning man living in his house. Jon vaguely recognized the number, but couldn’t be sure who was calling.
“Jon Forrest,” he answered the call after swiping a finger over the screen of his phone.
“Hey, Jon!” While Jon might not recognize the number off hand, there was no mistaking the boisterous voice on the other end of the line. “Walt here. I’ll be at the SOA today – how about dinner? If you haven’t made other plans of course.”
“Good morning M-Walt,” Jon quickly corrected himself before he could greet the man as ‘Mr. Swalters.’ “No, I don’t have any other plans. I have been looking forward to meeting you while I’m in Chicago.
“Excellent! And you’re on panel today?”
“That’s right. Honestly, I’m hoping that today is my last day.”
“Hah! Trying to sneak out of the conference early. Can’t blame you for that. Where are you staying? I’ve got a car while I’m here. I’ll come pick you up so we can go to one of my favorite Chicago spots.”
“Sounds great, I’m staying at the Four Seasons.”
“I didn’t think the new one was finished yet,” Swalters commented.
“Part of it is. Enough to host guests, I guess.”
“What do you think of it? It’s a new landmark on the Chicago skyline.”
“That’s what I keep hearing – it’s been very nice.”
“That is a good thing; Four Seasons got some architectural firm out of New York to do the design.”
“Really?”
“Yup – all right Jon, if it doesn’t conflict with a couple of the other panels I am trying to catch, I’ll see you at the symposium. If not, I’ll see you outside the main entrance of the new Four Seasons at 7?”
“Works for me. See you.”
“You bet. Bye.”
Swalters clicked off the call before Jon could respond. Shaking his head at the odd man, Jon set down the phone and finished knotting his tie.
As he stood outside the Four Seasons, Jon quietly celebrated. He was finished. He would not be part of any of the symposium’s remaining panels. He was free to leave the next morning. Jon had considered sending Charge a message, but thought of sneaking into the house and surprising the younger man had stopped him.
He wasn’t a suspicious personality, but Jon was curious to see what Charge would be doing when he thought Jon wouldn’t be home. While contemplating the possibilities a sleek Mercedes pulled up in front of him. The window lowered.
“Jon?” the man driving called out the window.
“Walt?” Jon called back.
Walt Swalters’ face broke into a broad smile. He waved Jon toward the car, “Hop on in, I’m starving.”
“Yes, sir. Jon smirked.”
Charge opened the back door into the house and was greeted by a series of chattering meows, as Kitty trotted up to tell him about her day. Charge shook his head as she went on and on – he might be cat part of the time, but that didn’t mean he understood any of the house cat’s chattering. As he walked toward the kitchen, Kitty suddenly sprinted ahead of him and yowled loudly.
Charge laughed at the sound as he bent to open the lower cabinet, Angeliza had ordered all of the cat stuff into. “All right, Missy. That one I definitely understand,” he said as he stood and took the can of cat food over to Kitty’s bowl as she pranced expectantly between his feet. Charge tapped the can inside the bowl to get the pâté out of the can. The instant he pulled the tin away, Kitty pounced on the bowl.
“Jeez, Kitty, have some decorum. You’re embarrassing me.”
Swalters had talked extensively about his business and his aspirations for its future the entire drive to the restaurant. Over the initial drinks he had changed the conversation to cars and had insisted Jon show him the before and after pictures of all of his projects. When the antipasti had arrived, Jon had just finished discussing his plans for the Morgan.
“So, this Charge is your man?”
Jon blushed at the question and mumbled unintelligibly.
At the non-answer, Swalters had smiled patiently. “You know that is actually one of the things that I don’t like about your firm. It is just so seemingly old school.”
“I assure you it isn’t just ‘seemingly.’” Jon had commented into his drink.
“That is what I expected. Tell me, Jon, why do you work for a place you have to hide at.”
“It never felt like hiding till recently.”
“Till you met the right man?”
“I guess you could say that,” Jon answered, not meeting Swalters’ steady hazel gaze.
“Part of the reason I told you not to send me the contract,” Swalters began, causing Jon’s eye’s to jump and meet his own. “I have decided I like you, Jon. I like your honesty, you willingness to create a portfolio that I am interested in and represents me. I don’t particularly like your firm. I finally called and asked for you because I had heard good things about you. Honestly, I am not particularly interested in investing with your firm. So I want to ask why you stay?”
Jon couldn’t hold back the cynical laugh that bubbled in his throat. “Why do I stay, huh? Honestly, I have been asking myself that all week.” Jon shook his head and took a healthy swallow of the whiskey he had ordered.
“You didn’t volunteer for the SOA did you?”
“No,” Jon finally said. “I did not, but it happened. I’m done. And, hell, it gave me the opportunity to meet you face to face, in a place that was more convenient.”
“True, but I suspect this is not the first time you’ve been screwed with. On
top of that – you have to hide who you are.”
“Yes. Yes, I would.” Jon commented softly as a waiter approached with another tray.
“Perhaps, you should consider a change?” Swalters said pointedly. “I know some other desirous investors that have avoided certain firms for a reason.” Swalters cocked a conspiratorial brow at Jon and smirked over the lip of his martini glass.
Intrigued, Jon gave the man his full attention as their entrees were placed before them.
Kitty had decided to perch her gray fuzzy butt on the hood of the half-ton to watch Charge spend another couple hours breaking down the Morgan’s engine. He had made sure to devote a couple hours each night Jon was gone to the Moran. He was hoping to have a complete list of Need to Get items to add to Jon’s STG list by the time Jon got back from Chicago.
He glanced over at the eyes so like his own as the tabby stood and arched in a stretch. She looked at him before looking at the door that led to the porch and more importantly the house. Charge set the ratchet aside and pulled out his phone to check the time.
“Yeah – I am with you there, Kitty. You keep waking me up early so eleven is a good time to call it quits.”
Kitty had developed a penchant of jumping onto Charge’s shifted form in the mornings so that they could go out into Jon’s little paradise in the mornings. While the tabby wouldn’t join him in the pool, she would race around the lip of the pool, chasing his jaguar form as he paddled back and forth.
Ever since the first day he had met Angeliza, Charge hadn’t fallen asleep in the hot tub; instead, he would bubble and jet away any soreness as human before shifting back to jaguar and padding with the tabby into the sunny spot on the main patio to bask in the sun and let his fur dry before heading into the house to get ready for work. Kitty would sunbathe with him, more often than not, on top of him.
XII
Jon popped the Challenger into neutral and coasted up the drive, shutting off the engine so that he rolled silently through the gate as the Challenger lost speed and stopped in front of the garage. He was trying to sneak up on Charge, he couldn’t do that if the growly engine of his car announced him.