North on Drummond

by K. C. Burn

  When the silence continued for several lengthy moments, Cliff dragged his gaze up to Drew’s face. The man looked puzzled, and the sight of the purplish bruising and stitches softened Cliff’s resolve even further. He wanted Drew, and despite his harsh words, he was willing to overlook just about anything to… He wanted to say he’d overlook anything just for a piece of Drew’s sexy, sexy ass, but Cliff had never been much for one-night stands. Besides, those first few seconds Cliff had seen Drew in the grocery-store parking lot were enough for him to be thinking about getting to know Drew better in and out of bed.

  The distance between them was too much to bear. Gripping the sheets in front of him, as though hiding his erection would hide his intentions, Cliff shifted from the futon to sit on Drew’s bed. Those bright blue eyes widened at the sudden proximity, and unable to help himself, Cliff reached out a finger and stroked the side of Drew’s face. Nearly invisible stubble rasped his finger as he trailed along Drew’s jawline and down his neck. A vein beat in Drew’s neck, showing Cliff the sudden increase in Drew’s pulse, which matched Cliff’s rise in heart rate. As much as he wanted to ravish Drew, rut against him like a mindless beast, he wanted caring, sweet sex. He wanted to kiss and suck and stroke and thrust. He wanted so much with Drew, but he had to keep some semblance of control and remember that Drew had been recently injured. Whatever he longed to do with Drew, the last thing he wanted was to hurt him.

  Drew’s lips parted slightly, as though he was going to say something, but Cliff took it as an invitation and gently pressed their lips together. Drew’s lips firmed against his, kissing him back. A tiny knot of tension in his belly, one that had formed almost the moment he’d first seen Drew, dissolved at this very clear signal that Drew wanted this, wanted him.

  Cliff cupped Drew’s shoulder with his other hand and used his body mass to coax Drew back. Fortunately Drew went willingly, even going so far as to shift a little to center them on the bed. Cliff tucked his hips between Drew’s splayed legs and deepened the kiss.

  He had no idea how long they devoured each other’s mouths, but at one point he needed to breathe. Panting, he stared down into Drew’s darkened eyes. Drew’s cheeks were flushed, his lips moist, and he was breathing just as heavily.

  “Good morning.” Drew grinned up at him.

  “It’s getting there.” Cliff grinned back. He was hard and aching, but despite Drew’s increasingly restless hip twisting, the sheets created too much of a barrier between them.

  Cliff pushed himself up and yanked at the sheets. And yanked. The damn things had wound around both their legs, and most of Cliff’s efforts only tightened them instead of getting him closer to Drew.

  With a huff, he leaped off the bed, grabbed Drew’s sheet, and tugged, flinging it to the floor.

  Drew snorted, and then a laugh escaped. He snickered behind his hand, his amusement contagious. A quick glance confirmed that the sheet mishap hadn’t adversely affected either of their erections.

  In fact, staring down at Drew, Cliff felt his breath come fast and shallow, his amusement forgotten. Drew was slender, but his lean muscles were beautifully defined. A bright ray of sunlight illuminated flecks of gold in his fiery hair. The dark blue boxer briefs strained to hold Drew’s cock, and Cliff bit his lower lip. He’d never been so indecisive in bed before, but he couldn’t decide whether to strip them naked immediately or leap back on the bed and suck up a mark on Drew’s neck before licking his way down to those boxer briefs and slowly revealing what lay beneath.

  Regardless, Cliff’s hips were still wrapped, mummy-like, in his own clinging sheet, and getting rid of it was the first step.

  He wrenched the sheet off his hips and let it drop next to Drew’s on the floor. Drew’s gaze immediately went to Cliff’s tiny briefs and the hard cock that was forcing its way past the waistband. There was no mistaking the heat in Drew’s expression.

  Fuck it. Cliff needed them naked now. Besides, his briefs certainly weren’t doing much to contain him. Cliff hooked his thumbs in the waistband, and Drew propped himself up on his elbows, attention locked on Cliff’s groin.

  Slowly he pulled his briefs down, letting his cock spring free. The briefs slid down his legs to puddle on the floor. Someday he might try putting on a little strip show for Drew, but he was so fucking turned on by nothing more than kissing and a bare chest that he couldn’t bear to extend this much longer.

  He straddled Drew and stroked his hands over Drew’s pale chest. Tiny, rosy nipples hardened under his palms, and he marveled at the contrast between his sun-darkened skin and Drew’s vampiric paleness. He slid his hands lower, across Drew’s belly, fingers playing with the reddish-blond treasure trail. Drew’s cock jerked, brushing against Cliff’s balls, the brief contact reminding Cliff that he was getting closer and closer to blowing his load. Exploring Drew’s body in detail was going to have to wait until later, but he’d be damned if this all ended without him making Drew wild.

  Shimmying his body down the bed, Cliff pulled Drew’s boxer briefs down to his ankles.

  With a groan, Cliff grabbed at the base of his cock to stave off his impending orgasm. Drew was fucking gorgeous. A ruddy pink cock rose from pubes that matched the hair on his head, and as soon as Cliff’s urge to orgasm was under control, he bent over and licked the heated, salty skin of Drew’s cock.

  “Fuck.” Drew’s voice was little more than a whimper.

  As Cliff had been longing to do from the first moment he’d laid eyes on this man, he opened his mouth and swallowed Drew’s cock, burying his nose in Drew’s red bush. There was a faint hint of soap from Drew’s earlier shower, but it wasn’t enough to obscure the musky scent of aroused male.

  Drew shivered, and his hips twitched as though he was trying to suppress their movement. Cliff wanted Drew to fuck his mouth and come down his throat, but that wasn’t all he wanted.

  Again with the indecision. Fuck, suck, or rut? Fucking was out. No way was Cliff going to last long enough for either of them to glove up and slide into an ass. Drew’s cock slid hot and heavy in his mouth, and Cliff could come just from blowing Drew, but he wanted to touch Drew some more. Make their first time more intimate, more special, than a blowjob like Drew could get in any gay club. He wanted to make sure Drew felt the same undeniable attraction as Cliff did.

  Drew pulled gently on his hair, and Cliff lifted his head to find Drew staring down at him. A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Maybe, just maybe, Drew had been thinking along the same lines.

  Willingly obedient to Drew’s unspoken request, Cliff moved back up the bed and smiled down.

  “You’re so hot.” Cliff’s words weren’t too romantic, but judging from Drew’s blush, he didn’t object.

  “Not as hot as you,” Drew whispered back, hands roaming freely over Cliff’s back, making him shiver in delight. They’d both started to sweat, the window A/C unit not quite able to combat the scorching heat of them together.

  Zeroing in on Drew’s mouth, Cliff kissed him and relaxed against him, ankle to chest, although Cliff braced his arms on either side of Drew to keep from crushing him.

  The press of all that naked skin together made Drew groan into Cliff’s mouth, and Cliff fed the sound right back. He and Drew fit perfectly together, and another person had never felt so right.

  A quick shift of Cliff’s hips put their erections together, precum, saliva, and sweat providing more than adequate slick. The first thrust of his cock against Drew’s had him poised on the brink again while Drew writhed in his arms. Their mouths were still locked together, and they breathed in tandem. Hips working frantically, Cliff hoped this was going to be enough to send Drew over, because his control stretched thinner and thinner every second.

  Drew’s fingers dug into Cliff’s ass cheeks, and the sound of Drew’s moans rose in pitch as they humped frantically against each other.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Cliff wasn’t going to last much longer. In a frantic bid to hold off for a few more precious seconds, he pulled o
ut of the searing kiss, but Drew’s feverish expression and kiss-swollen lips combined with the nonstop slide of Drew’s hard cock against him was too much. He’d just have to get Drew off after. His balls tightened, and he dropped his face into Drew’s neck, biting down where Drew’s neck met shoulder.

  Drew hollered his name as liquid warmth spilled between them. A mere second later, Cliff’s muscles stiffened, and he exploded, cock jerking as he emptied his balls, the relief more than physical, knowing that he’d managed to bring Drew to orgasm before he succumbed.

  He slid off Drew and wrapped an arm around him, tucking him close while they recovered. The earthy scent of their combined jizz hung in the air, sultry and seductive.

  “Wow.”

  “Agreed.” Because, yeah, sex with Drew was definitely wow. And just because he could, Cliff dropped a few kisses onto Drew’s ear and neck. Although the thought was vaguely terrifying, Cliff could probably do this forever, a feeling he’d never had with another man, not even Brett, whom he’d thought he could maybe love.

  “I guess I need another shower,” Drew said.

  “This time I’m going to help you.”

  Drew chuckled. “No argument here.”

  Drew twisted so they were facing each other on the narrow bed.

  A smug smile found its way to Cliff’s lips at the thoroughly sexed-out appearance of the gorgeous redhead in his arms. Cliff smoothed away the veil of hair that obscured part of Drew’s face, and just as quickly, his smile disappeared as he focused again on the bruising and stitches. He’d forgotten, somehow, that Drew was injured.

  “Are you in pain? Do you need some meds?” Worry for Drew and irritation at his lack of control pushed away the pleasant aftermath of orgasm.

  Drew rolled his eyes and winced. “I’m just fine as long as I remember not to roll my eyes.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “And fucking. I think fucking might be out of the question for a few more days. I don’t think the movement would be good.”

  Cliff groaned as his cock tried to make a valiant comeback, despite the fact that they were talking about definitely not fucking until Drew had gotten better.

  “I’m sorry.” No matter what Drew said, Cliff shouldn’t have taken advantage.

  “You’re apologizing for giving me an incredible orgasm? Are you insane? I’m hoping we’ll do it again in the shower.” Pink stained Drew’s cheeks, and he glanced away. “Unless…I mean…maybe you don’t want to. I’d understand if you didn’t.”

  God. He’d practically humped Drew’s leg while he’d been doped up on morphine and unconscious in the hospital. How was it Drew didn’t know how much Cliff wanted him?

  “Oh, I want you. Don’t ever think I don’t.” Even if it maybe wasn’t the wisest attraction he’d ever had, it was certainly the most consuming. He just hoped his career didn’t get destroyed in the conflagration.

  Drew still looked unsure, and Cliff kissed him again. “I only apologized because I’m afraid we did this too soon. You were just in the hospital yesterday, and I like to think I have some control over myself.”

  A shy little smile curved Drew’s lips. “I like the fact that you couldn’t control yourself.”

  Cliff needed a bit of recovery time before he could indulge again—a blowjob or handjob in the shower shouldn’t be too strenuous for Drew to receive—but that didn’t stop him from lightly stroking Drew’s skin or enjoying Drew’s tentative explorations in return. He couldn’t ever remember touching someone like this just for the sheer enjoyment, without any immediate intention for it to lead to sex.

  Chapter Twelve

  Drew wanted to bask under Cliff’s touch like a cat being stroked. This was so fucking surreal, and it was entirely possible that he was hallucinating the whole thing because, yes, he had a head injury.

  Cliff Garcia was naked in his bed. Had told him he was hot. Kissed him like Drew’s mouth was the only available source of oxygen. Sucked his cock, made him come, then came all over him. The jizz of his eight-year fantasy crush was currently drying on his stomach, and it was better than he’d ever imagined.

  After delivering the kind of mind-melting orgasm Drew had only dreamed of, Cliff was still kissing him, touching him, and staring at him like Drew was everything he’d ever wanted. Surreptitiously, Drew passed a hand over his belly.

  Yep. Jizz. If he weren’t so blissed-out on endorphins, he’d consider squealing. Except that would make him look like a total dork. He’d rather keep that information under wraps as long as he could.

  Tentatively, Drew reached out to do some touching of his own. Cliff was built but not bulky. Like Drew, Cliff wasn’t too hairy, but what little he had was sleek and black. His pubes were carefully trimmed, and his balls were waxed. Drew had never bothered with too much manscaping; it was a lot of work when his prospects for sex were so few and far between. He’d have to find out if Cliff would prefer him to be a little less au naturel.

  When Cliff had stripped off his briefs, Drew had thought he’d spontaneously combust. He wanted that cock. He wanted to make a replica of that cock so he’d have it even after Cliff got tired of him. Which he was bound to do. The stunning Cliff Garcia wasn’t going to continue to hang out with a Drummond if he didn’t have to.

  Hell, the whole sex thing was probably in return for the favor of letting Cliff stay at his place. If that was the case, Drew was going to get as many orgasms as he could out of it and worry about the heartbreak later.

  Because there wasn’t much chance his heart was coming out of this intact. Not when he’d been half in love with the guy before they’d even spoken to each other. Now that Cliff was being sweet and concerned and could make Drew come until his vision blacked out…yeah, Drew was going to be a broken, devastated mess when Cliff got settled back in Sandy Bottom Bay and realized he could do so much better than slumming with a Drummond.

  “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but why don’t I remember you from school? Your brothers were in my face all the time, but I can’t believe you never made it on my radar.”

  A half explanation should answer the question but without exposing just how pathetic he’d been in high school. How influential Cliff had been to his life.

  “Uh. Well, I think I told you I used to be a lot blonder when I was young.” Drew took a hand away from Cliff to wrap a hank of hair in his fist. “The red was one of many huge changes when I hit puberty. I also used to be a lot shorter.”

  “I guess the height thing happened after I left. You’re taller than your brothers now, aren’t you?”

  Drew sighed. “Yep.” His brothers had been pissed at the time, but Drew had been glad puberty had changed him enough that he’d become worse than useless at assisting Wyatt and Rob with whatever petty crimes they perpetrated. Puberty, high school, and Cliff Garcia had changed everything for Drew, who had been well on the way to following in the Drummonds’ crooked footsteps.

  Once upon a time, Drew had been small for his age, a strawberry-blond cutie with wide blue eyes, and perfect for his brothers to use as a decoy or distraction. Pretending to be lost or need help had more than once kept a mark from noticing either Wyatt or Rob picking their pockets, and Drew had been cute enough that no one had suspected him of complicity. He’d never quite been comfortable helping Wyatt and Rob, but he hadn’t felt he had a choice. His brothers had their faults, but they’d stuck by him and protected him, and Drew felt he owed them.

  “That still doesn’t explain why I don’t remember you.” Cliff smiled and stroked his hand over Drew’s shoulder before moving to trace prominent collarbones, the light touch giving Drew goose bumps.

  How much to tell? They’d had sex. Once. There wasn’t any indication that they’d date or have a relationship. If he admitted to his crush, would Cliff laugh it off as the folly of youth, or would he recognize the continued yearning in Drew, see him as needy and pathetic?

  “Do you remember everyone in high school, especially the freshmen, when you were a senior?” Drew hedged. Drew ha
d been a nobody, and Cliff had been one of the chosen ones.

  Cliff wrinkled his nose. “No, I guess not.”

  The gift—or curse—puberty had brought was the suspicion he wasn’t like the other boys in his class. At fourteen, other guys were starting to notice girls. At first, Drew had been able to convince himself that his indifference to girls and his desire to spend time with his friends was simply a matter of him being a late bloomer.

  Until the day he’d attended his brothers’ soccer practice after school, ostensibly to watch the cheerleaders practice.

  Cliff Garcia had owned the soccer field that day, making the rest of the team look like bumbling idiots. Sandy Bottom Bay wasn’t a bastion of sports prowess, so it wasn’t exactly a challenge, but Cliff had been far beyond the other players, including Wyatt and Rob. Without even trying, Cliff had owned Drew’s heart. He’d fallen head over heels into his first puppy love, and it was with a guy. Cliff at eighteen had looked like he could have played professionally for Spain, and he’d starred in every one of Drew’s wet dreams and waking fantasies.

  His brothers had hated Cliff with a passion and not only because he showed them up on the soccer field. Nope. Cliff was a good guy.

  “You were pretty good at protecting us from bullies.”

  Cliff looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve always hated bullies. Maybe because if I’d been outed in high school, I’d have been just as big a target.”

  Drew suppressed a snort. Cliff could have probably come to school in a French maid outfit and still been the school’s golden boy, but he appreciated that his fear made Cliff the champion of those less socially successful.