by Lea Bronsen
His features smoothen. After a little hesitation, he obeys and spreads his legs for me, his erection lying amid black hair on his belly.
My cock goes straight up and heat rushes through it, more pre-cum leaking from the tip. My balls are so full I’m about to burst. Won’t need much friction to come. Gritting my teeth to rein in, I roll the condom over my length and smear a handful of creamy lavender-smelling lotion on it. I kneel between Roman’s legs, pour lotion over his dark, puckered hole, then on my hand, and insert my greasy index finger into his tight hotness. I proceed slowly, smoothly. Don’t want him to feel violated. He gasps, but I push on, deeper, curling my finger upward and stroking the flesh inside.
He bucks and shouts out, his pelvis lifting in the air.
I grin.
“Fuck.” He exhales air, lowering to the floor again. “What—what the hell was that?”
“Your prostate.”
“Ha! I thought I was coming.”
I laugh. “It’s one of the strongest erogenous zones in your body. Few people know.” After inserting a second finger and scissoring them for a bit to stretch his ring muscles, I pull out and lower myself over him on an elbow, one hand fisting my cock and guiding the tip to his crack. I’m going to come so hard this time. I’m going to be blown away.
* * * *
When Luke’s thick, hard cock penetrated his hole, Roman thought the sensitive flesh would tear apart beyond repair. He’d never felt so stretched down there. But the sting of hurt subsided, replaced by a strange sensation of fullness and contentment. It wasn’t as dirty as he’d feared either. On the contrary, this physical connection with Luke felt right, the same way it had been with his wife. The in and outward gliding of Luke’s oiled shaft inside him strangely natural. Suddenly, it no longer mattered whether it happened in a pussy or an asshole. What mattered was the giving and taking between two people making love.
Luke lay on top of him, resting on his elbows, handsome face inches from Roman’s. He would probably not last long. Sweat pebbled on his forehead and ran alongside his temples. Panting heavily through parted lips, features contracted, he thrust in and out at a quick, rhythmic pace, chasing his orgasm. Each rough movement pushed Roman a little on the soft carpet.
What an amazing turn on. Roman would have rubbed his own erection if he could and tried to climax at the same time as Luke, but his cock was squished, trapped underneath Luke’s muscular belly. He turned his head and glanced at the big windows overlooking the city. If anyone in the opposite buildings had a chance of looking in, it had to be one hell of a sight. He didn’t care. He was with his lover, happy, insanely aroused, and the rest of the world could screw themselves.
Luke arched his back and opened his mouth, but no other sound than ragged breaths came out of it. He had taught himself to be quiet.
Roman urged, “Don’t hold back! I wanna hear you.”
Moving fast, grimacing, Luke closed his eyes. A groan erupted deep in his throat and grew with each thrust, ending as the growl of a lion in heat. He jerked and squirmed, back and forth, pounding into Roman, growling. His intense orgasm seemed to last and last, as if he’d waited not just a week, but years.
Roman had never seen anything like this. When Luke fell on top of him, in a sweat, breathless, then eased out and rolled onto the floor, Roman laughed. Now, he would play. He followed him and put a leg across his muscular thighs.
“Wait!” Hands shaking, Luke peeled off the condom.
As soon as he’d tied it and thrown it into a bin under the desk, Roman moved up to his large shoulders and straddled him. High on eroticism and aching for release, he wrapped a hand around his hard cock, brought it to Luke’s sweaty, grinning face, and ran the head over his parted lips, circling them like a caress.
It was Luke’s turn to laugh. He stuck his tongue out and with a mischievous gleam in his green pupils licked the underside of Roman’s shaft, along the thick, apparent vein.
Delight shot through Roman. Mechanically, he rubbed base-to-tip with long, urgent strokes, building his orgasm, eyes locked on Luke’s intense gaze. Their connection was insane. He couldn’t imagine living a day without him. Though they belonged to different worlds, Luke brought out the best in him. And the most erotic. And the most raw, real, down-to-earth, basic. There were not two men like Luke.
After a minute of rough, purposely pumping, Roman came, the sharp pleasure shooting through his length making him cry out. He ejaculated hot semen on Luke’s lips, nose, cheeks…all over his face, telling whoever was watching from the outside that this guy here was his.
It was his strongest orgasm in a long time. Not because of the tension and fatigue he’d accumulated lately, or because he’d had a nice, thick cock gliding inside his ass moments before, or because Luke was exceptionally sexy—all of which was true—but because amorous feelings were involved.
Epilogue
“Luke?”
“Mm?” I jump awake in a foreign bed, nude under soft sheets, my feet sticking out. A glance at an open door reminds me of where I am.
The hottest male I’ve seen in a lifetime stands in the doorway. Roman and I have spent the night together in a bedroom down the corridor from his office. It’s a small, sparingly decorated room without windows, reserved for overnight workers. Light from the hall shines through his black hair and caresses the tanned skin of his face. He’s dressed, but images from last night come back to me, of sweaty, naked skin and intense fucking. Just recalling that has my cock jerk to life and tent the bedsheets.
“Hey, Sweetheart.” With a gorgeous smile, he approaches the bed, bringing a whiff of his cologne, and bends to kiss me. His lips are full and warm, and I have to fight not to reach for my cock and stroke it.
“Sweetheart,” I huff instead, pretending to be vexed. I’ve never been called anything sweet. But he’s cute, and he makes my heart sing like those birds did in the park.
He points to my phone on a bedtable. “Someone called earlier. You were passed out, so I told her you’d call back.”
“Her?” Frowning, I sit up against the bedhead, grab my phone, and stare at the screen. It shows a list of answered calls. On top, a number I don’t recognize. A woman? I’ve had many in the years following my release from jail.
“She said her name was Marilyn something. Ring a bell?”
“No? Should I know her?”
He shrugs. “Call her.”
“She didn’t say what it was about?”
He gives an exaggerated sigh and turns on his heel. “Call her!”
“Would you mind getting me a coffee?”
“You forgot please.”
“I didn’t.”
Laughing, he goes out the door.
I hit the number on my phone screen.
It dials, and after a couple of rings, a young, feminine voice replies. “Hello.”
“Hi, I’m Luke Vance. You called earlier?”
“Yes. I’m Marilyn Hill. Thanks for getting back to me. ”
“What is it about?“
She hesitates. “Well, it’s a long story. And it wasn’t easy to find you. There’re like, a zillion guys with your name out there.” She giggles, the sound making me picture a teenager. “The Bureau of Prisons refused to give me information.”
Ice cold dread rushes through me. The Bureau of Prisons? My old life is coming back at me, or fate, whichever, a full-circle thing about to unfold and hit me in the fucking face. Blood pulses in my temples, giving me a sudden headache.
“…So I had to play detective. At least I had your name from my mother.”
“Okay.” I suck in a mouthful of air and wince from the pain in my head. “Go on.”
“Fifteen years ago, an accident happened to my dad, and he died. He was very young, but my mom was already pregnant. Since he had known I was on the way, she told me about him while I grew up. She said he loved me and that he was watching me from Heaven. So I’ve got a fond memory of him. I miss him, of course, but in a good way.”
Fuck me. She’s the daughter of the kid I stabbed? He was expecting a baby at the time? I can barely believe it. Petrified, I stutter, “W-why are you telling me this?”
“Well, my family refused to talk to me about the guy who killed him. It was taboo. But I wanted to meet him. Not because I wanted a vengeance or anything, but because I felt sorry for him. You see, I’ve seen tapes from the trial, where he was crying and pleading my family to forgive him. They refused, and I thought it was very heartless of them to send him to prison without giving him the chance to apologize and redeem himself. I mean, everybody knows it was an accident.”
I hold my breath. I’m dreaming this phone call. This girl can’t be real.
“So,” she continues. “I want to make things good again. It’s taken me a long time to find you and even longer to work up the nerve to call you, but I’d like to…”
She talks on, but I’m only half-listening, half-understanding her words. My throat chokes with a fierce emotion, a very dark one that has lasted half my life, strangled the smallest flames of joy, and, at times, provoked thoughts of suicide.
When she’s finished, I’m too messed-up to say anything intelligible, except, “I-I would love to. Thank you.” And then I hang up and bring my fingers to my burning eyes to stop the tears, but fail.
The mattress moves. “What’s going on?” Roman’s voice. And the smell of hot, roasted coffee.
With a groan, I remove my hands and glimpse at the only person who has really listened to me since the accident.
He sits on the bedside, gorgeous and all, two coffee cups in hand, his black eyes filled with concern. “Who was it?”
“His daughter. He has a daughter. And she wants to take me to his grave.” More tears roll down my cheeks.
“You mean the guy you—?” Mouth gaping in astonishment, he puts the cups on a bedtable before extending his arms to me.
Marilyn’s offer is so fresh I can’t possibly have comprehended all that it means to me yet. When its full importance dawns on me, I’m going to hit a wall. I bite my lip until it hurts and bow my head, sobbing. “I’ve never had a grave to go to.” I wipe one wet eye after the other, but the tears keep coming.
Roman catches me in his strong arms and gives me the soothing hug I should’ve had many years ago. I wrap my arms around his warm, firm torso, my trembling chin on top of his shoulder, and use him for comfort. He presses me to him, molds us to each other. We’re an amazing match. A team.
“When will you meet her?” he asks, stroking my back.
“At noon. I didn’t see any reason to delay it. I’ve already waited fifteen years.” Sniffing, I glance over his shoulder. A lamp in the hall casts a diffuse white light on us. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were attending a ceremony in some sacred place.
“Where?”
“About an hour’s drive from here.”
“Can I go with you?”
Unable to believe his words, I release him and look into his eyes. Inches from my face, he smiles, honest gaze telling me he’s serious. He wants to be there for me. No one has ever wanted to, no one has cared. Indescribable warmth fills me. I see only good things in this man, and he couldn’t be farther from the slick impression I had of him the first time we met.
“And after that,” he continues, turning to grab the two coffee cups, “we can go pick up the kids.”
“Jen accepted your offer?”
Smiling from ear-to-ear, he hands me one of the cups. “My lawyer called earlier. I’m having them for the weekend.”
“What? That’s fabulous news. Congrats.” I raise my cup in a toast. “But it does make you wonder what kind of a mother she is, to prefer having expensive material things rather than the full custody of her children.”
He shrugs. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it more times than what’s good for my sanity. For instance, how could I marry her in the first place? But regardless of the selfish person she is, I’ve had to accept that fathers don’t have the same rights as mothers, and I’m just happy I can have my kids at all. Then…” He slides his free arm around my waist, bringing us closer and his fantastic scent of maleness into my space. “Since it’s Saturday, I thought I’d take them apartment hunting. I need a new place to live, right? And I want you to come with us.”
“Me?” I widen my eyes. “Why—”
He laughs and kisses me, lips soft and so, so fucking enticing. My cock stiffens again. “It’s not up for discussion. As soon as I got the news from my lawyer, I called the kids and told them I was with you and we’d go looking for a new home. They were ecstatic and they said it was, I quote, “Awesome,” that I’m seeing that cool guy from the kitchen.”
“But—”
“Correction. Lily said you were cute, and Nick said you were cool.”
My head spins from the wealth of information. One thing sticks out, though. “Wait, did you tell them you were seeing me? As in dating?”
Roman grins, his gorgeous black eyes twinkling, and reaches for my hard-on under the sheet.
The End.
ADDICTIONS
by
R. Brennan
Dedication
Dedicated to devastating dimples.
R. Brennan
Alexis set her backpack on the stone bench and leaned against the retaining wall of the university campus center. Her head ached in time with her pulse. Wincing, she took a long draught from the Styrofoam cup in her hand and prayed the shot of caffeine would appease the headache gods. With a sigh, she settled in to wait.
Wouldn’t be long. Exams started next week, so desperate customers would be coming out of the woodwork. If they weren’t looking for anything they could get to stay awake, they were looking for a bit of pot to use to de-stress. She’d sell out by noon, easy, and the sooner she ran out of product, the sooner she could square up with Billy, and score something to take care of her own needs. She was usually better about making sure had enough supply to get through, but she’d had to up her dosage recently just to get by. Not a good sign.
“Hey, Lexi. How’s things?”
She quirked a brow in her first customer’s direction. “I’d complain, but who’d care?” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “So, how’d you like that BC bud? Killer, right?”
Brian swiped at the rust colored fringe of hair hanging in his face and grinned. “You know it. Chuck and I enjoyed quite a bender on that bag.” He shoved his hands into his front pockets. “But, uh...we were kinda wondering—”
She had him. Lexi grinned. The eyes always gave them away. “What else I can score? Maybe something a little stronger?” She grabbed her backpack from the bench beside her. “What’s your pleasure? Do you snort, shoot? Like pills? If I don’t have it now, I’ll be able to get it. Just need to know what you’re looking for.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, wow...uhm, cool. Well, we were talking. You know, Chuck and me. And we were hoping we could score some X, maybe, but I’d be up for a little blotter if you had that, too.”
Easy pickins. “I have the X on me. Single stacks and doubles. I’ll have to catch up with you on the acid. Don’t get much call for that, so I don’t carry it on me. Have it at my place, though.”
Brian’s crooked smile returned. He’d actually be cute if his eyes weren’t just a bit too close together, and he didn’t have quite so many freckles. “Sweet. A half dozen rolls of the double stack should do for now. Thanks, Lexi.”
“No problem. It’s what I’m here for.” She unzipped the top pocket of her bag and pulled out a small black film canister. With a wink, she stepped in close and lifted on her toes. She whispered in his ear. “Ninety bucks, stud.” Lexi slyly deposited the film canister in his hoodie pocket and stepped back.
Cheeks red, Brian withdrew the money from his pocket and handed it over. “Thanks again.”
She gave the bills a quick count before sticking them in another pocket of her backpack. “If you come by tomorrow, I’ll have the paper.”
“Cool.” He
bobbed his head. “Okay. I should go. Got class across the quad in ten. See ya.”
Lexi tossed her thick chocolate braid back over her shoulder and returned to leaning against the stone wall. “Yeah. See ya.”
Her prediction for the morning turned out to be pretty accurate. By one thirty, she’d exhausted her stash and headed across campus with a satchel full of cash. A quick stop at Billy’s and she’d have what she needed to take care of the throbbing in her skull and the ever-present ache in her left knee.
As Lexi worked her way through a chattering crowd of students intent on making their next class on time, a small part of her wanted to turn around and follow them. To go back to who she used to be. One of them again. Her soul ached to return to the time she’d been a star on the university volleyball team with a bright future, a 3.7 GPA, and no pain. Before the injury and lost scholarship. Before her whole world was shredded along with her fucking weak–ass ACL.
A growl pushed past her lips as she thrust the bitterness aside.
Woulda, coulda, shoulda.
* * * *
Lexi gave Billy’s front door a quick double knock and pushed her way in. People came and went from his place at all hours of the day and night. Besides, Billy knew her better than anyone. He’d be expecting her.
He wasn’t in the main room of the one bedroom apartment. That left the bedroom or the bathroom. Her gaze shifted to the right. The bathroom door lay open.
“Billy?” she called. “It’s Lex. Drag your ass out of bed and get it out here.”
The bedroom door swung open to reveal Billy, clad in a long, tattered bathrobe, flannel pants and a stained white T-shirt. His thick black hair was tousled and jutted from his skull in every conceivable direction.
“You’re looking particularly haggard this afternoon.” Lexi dropped onto the sofa and set her backpack beside her. “Big party last night?”