by Peter Styles
“I thought we were going to talk?”
“You have two choices,” Chris purred softly. He kept rocking his hips, teasing Jeremiah. “We can sit here and talk about our feelings until we’re blue in the face, or we can show each other how we feel with our bodies.”
Jeremiah swallowed hard. His hands moved of their own accord, sliding up the other man’s legs and around to hold onto his ass. Biting his lip, he shuddered to feel perfect skin and tight, round muscle against his palms. “You sound like a hippie.”
Chris laughed. His eyes sparked with his amusement, although the circles beneath them belied the merriment. “They got some things right. And besides… I really don’t want to think right now. Help me not think, Jeremiah.”
His body said yes, but his heart still hesitated. Was this really what either of them needed right now? As he thought it over, Chris rocked slower and came to a standstill. He was waiting. Never before had anyone ever waited. Chris was perfect. Everything about him was perfect, including his flaws. What other man could have gone through so much and come out perfect instead of ruined?
Only Chris.
Still, this wasn’t the right time.
Jeremiah opened his mouth to say that but what came out instead was a soft plea instead. “Kiss me.”
Well, a little physical comfort wouldn’t hurt. It would tire them out and let them get back to sleep, at least.
Chris leaned forward, placing his hands on the shoulders of the man beneath him. “My unicorn,” he murmured.
Jeremiah’s eyes flew open wide but his protests were swallowed by lips settling down against his, pressing back fiercely so that he sank into the mattress up to his ears. Protesting louder, playfully, Jeremiah squeezed Chris’s ass and watched as the stronger man arched his back and moved his body in a tight circle, pressing back against his hands. Their kiss parted and Chris flicked out his tongue to trace Jeremiah’s lips, breath hot and heavy.
“I want you,” Chris said. His voice was light but there was a growl deep in his chest. “Damn, I want you.”
“Then take me,” Jeremiah whispered. He closed his eyes and waited, body slack and obedient as he was always expected to be. A light touch on his lips made him look again, focusing on the fingertip pressed to his mouth. His gaze slid all the way up the length of that tanned arm, to Chris’s knowing gaze.
“We’re going to do this right. Communication. Okay, love?”
Not lover, but love.
“I want you to take me, please,” Jeremiah said, as politely as he could.
Chris withdrew his finger and replaced it with his lips again before drawing away once more. He rocked his hips, showing off his huge cock, and then slid backward off Jeremiah’s body so that he was between his legs. Jeremiah watched, curious and trembling with anticipation. He felt like one of those stupid little dogs that get carted around in purses, always shaking and staring with huge eyes.
Luckily, Chris seemed not able to read his mind right then. He was sliding back even a little further, and then working his hands beneath Jeremiah’s ass. Bracing himself on the bed, Jeremiah helped lift his ass up…
And found himself flipped over, facedown with a mouth full of mattress. Dizziness circled behind his eyes for only a moment before being banished by an all-too-familiar sensation. Hands on his ass, sliding down between his cheeks to pull them apart. Suddenly tense, he started to shift around and managed to turn his head to the side to speak.
“Lube?”
Markus sometimes “forgot.”
“Of course.” Chris’s voice was low and soothing. “But we’re not starting with that right away.”
What else was there? Jeremiah wondered. Very quickly, he was given his answer in the form of a quick swipe of pure heat and wetness. His whole body jumped with shock. Pushing his hands beneath himself, he started to rise up. “What was that?” Twisting around awkwardly, he stared at Chris.
Chris stared back, a smile on his face. “Did you like it?”
“Hell, yes, I liked it! What did you do?” Jeremiah looked around at what he could see of the mattress. He was no stranger to toys and lube, but he hadn’t ever felt anything like that before. Maybe it was that weird sort of lube that heated up when rubbed?
“I licked you.”
“Licked me?” He didn’t know whether to be astounded or delighted at this new discovery. He glanced shyly over at Chris’s face and saw him smiling, although a glow of sadness darkened his gaze. There were no answers to be found there. “I liked it. Do it again.”
“Then get back down!” Chris demanded.
Jeremiah obeyed quickly, but this time he kept his hands up beneath his body and raised up his ass. When Chris was slow to come to him, he wiggled it and made a low growl. A soft chuckle answered him, along with plenty of hot breath puffing deep between his ass cheeks. Fingers slid up from his cock, a quick caress over that soft place between his balls and opening, and then his ass was being held open again. Closing his eyes, he waited and trembled as another breath hit him. Then there came the flick of hot wetness again, a tongue teasing his opening.
Already moaning, Jeremiah balanced his body on one arm and slid the other between his own legs to caress up and down his length. His member throbbed in his hand, begging for more, but he held back. It would be a shame to cum too soon, to miss out on the rest of this.
Chris’s tongue lavished attention upon his opening, circling the tight pucker and teasing at the center. Jeremiah moved against his mouth, following the motion. The harder he shook and the tenser his muscles became, the looser he was back there. Surprise fluttered in his heart like a butterfly, because he wasn’t used to opening up like this. He felt like a flower, like something allowed to come into being naturally instead of being forced to.
“Ah… Chris… Ah!”
Without warning, the tongue suddenly pressed hard against his opening and slipped inside before coming back out again immediately. Chris groaned, shaking now as well. “You’re so loose… I can’t…”
That was all he managed to say before need took over. Jeremiah pressed back hard against Chris’s mouth as the other man pressed his tongue as deep inside his ass as he could. Heat rolled in waves over Jeremiah’s body, making his hand spasm hard and tug feverishly at his cock. He cried out, digging his forehead into the mattress while also pushing his ass back on that hot, wet tongue still working its way deeper inside. Chris’s face pressed against him, and every hot breath was euphoria.
“Chris, I need…”
“My Jeremiah, baby…”
Jeremiah waited for more but nothing else came as Chris backed away. Words had failed him. They were meaningless.
Something else pressed against his opening, but it was not wet even though it dribbled fluid in little streaks down his ass. It was hot, however.
“Lube?” Jeremiah suggested again, a little more urgently this time. Everything in him ached with anticipation for this to be good, for this to be all pleasure and no pain.
Chris chuckled. “Eager?”
I’ll let him think that.
“I’ve got you covered. Don’t worry.”
A bottle opened, the cap clicking faintly. Jeremiah waited, listening as Chris liberally applied lube to his own organ. Then, gentle fingers pressed the cold gel lube against his opening and slightly inside.
Relaxed now, Jeremiah wiggled his ass. “Come get me.”
“You’re supposed to come get me. The unicorn always comes for the fair maiden.”
“Fuck you!” Jeremiah shouted. He sputtered with laughter, quickly cut off by a sharp gasp as the bulging tip of Chris’s huge dick pushed inside his opening. His muscles clamped down, tensing hard.
A hand rested lightly on his back. “Ease up. It’s me. Using the back door because you trust me not to steal your fine china.”
With an effort, Jeremiah took a deep breath and forced himself to relax again. Chris’s cock slid neatly out of him and then back in, going no deeper than an inch or so. Over and o
ver, they moved together just the slightest bit until a rhythm started to form. Jeremiah relaxed into it, moving his hand on his swollen member to the same beat; behind him, he heard Chris let out a soft grunt of exertion and knew it was time to continue. With the next thrust, he pressed harder back against the cock inside him. Chris gladly obliged, and the process began again.
Jeremiah didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed sex more.
By the time Chris was actually most of the way inside him, Jeremiah’s eyes were practically rolling back in his head. His cock was throbbing in his hand, begging for release. His breath came in shuddering gasps and his body bucked of its own rhythm with no heed for anything else.
Suddenly, he felt the firm length of Chris’s dick sliding all the way out of him. A cry rose up in his throat, disappointment forming in his heart, but his cry turned to a scream as the man on top of him suddenly buried himself back inside with a piercing thrust.
That was all Jeremiah could take. Every muscle in his entire body seized up, trapping Chris inside and squeezing tightly as an orgasm rocked through him. He was lost to the world, lost to everything but pleasure and heat and shaking, hardly aware of it when Chris orgasmed as well.
They collapsed onto their sides still entwined and adjusted until they weren’t.
“Chris,” Jeremiah started.
Chris’s hand stroked down his side, silencing him. “I know.”
Satisfied and suddenly exhausted as the adrenaline from sex drained away, Jeremiah fell asleep.
Chapter 19
Chris sat in his office, absentmindedly rubbing between his legs. He was between meetings, struggling to focus on the world before him while still caught up in all the sex he and Jeremiah had been having for the past three days. Jeremiah had risked his schooling, and Chris had briefly abandoned his work, taking his time to focus on the things that were most pressing and important to him.
However, life wouldn’t be put on hold for the sake of two lovers for very long before resuming itself. Jeremiah was back at college and Chris was here in his office, facing down a pile of paperwork that was probably taller than he was. He’d taken some of it home with him to work on between rounds with Jeremiah, but he hadn’t actually touched any of it because there hadn’t been any spare moments in which to do so. Now he was facing The Stack, and dealing with all the calls he’d missed, all the rescheduled appointments…
It almost made the whole three days not worth it. However, he would never think it wasn’t worth it, no matter how he weighed the risks and rewards. He had gotten to spend time with Jeremiah. They had talked and screwed and talked some more, and laughed over old cartoons at 2 a.m., and ordered pizza like crazy. It was almost like high school, carefree and intimate and yet somehow innocent.
Chris closed his eyes now, savoring all of those moments before asking himself that big question.
Would he be any better than Markus if he asked Jeremiah to tell him the man’s secrets? His techniques, his thought processes and the way he made decisions? Surely there had to be something, didn’t there? Or perhaps that was only him being petty and wanting revenge, which he was surely above.
The terrible thing was that he knew Jeremiah would tell him if he asked. The other man was still so high-strung; still so desperate to please. He had been taken advantage of so much that it was the norm for him, and Chris hated that; he was resolved to never treat him in such a way.
Which, he supposed, meant the decision had already been made. He wouldn’t ask, and he didn’t even need to ask since he was already doing better than Markus.
I didn’t want to be anything but competitors, he thought. But now I would gladly do anything to destroy you.
Breaking out of his thoughts with an effort, Chris reached for his pen from where he’d dropped it on the floor. As he did so, he leaned on the phone in his right pocket. His personal cell. Luck dictated that would be the exact moment that the phone started ringing, vibrating fiercely. Something about the combination of stretched fabric and phone placement made the vibration reach all the way to his dick. His poor, tired dick.
Stifling a moan, he placed the phone against his ear. “Jeremiah,” he said. “You gave me a tingle!”
There was no answer. Nothing verbal, at least. There was a sound of scuffling, as though someone tripped and fell while trying to right themselves. Wind whipped past the cell phone speaker, scraping harshly against his ear drums. Chris winced and pressed the phone harder against his ear, straining now. Car engines nearby; a distant honking horn.
And finally, a voice. But not a voice Chris had ever heard before. “You little shit!”
Chris stiffened. A chill raced up his spine, into his brain, and he saw red. His hand clenched into a fist around the pen he held, snapping it in half. Sticky ink spilled across his fingers, puddling on the desk.
That voice had been distant, like a shout. Where was the voice that should have been right there on the other end of the phone? Where was Jeremiah?
“Jeremiah!”
“Chris!”
His heart skipped and sputtered, awkward in his chest. Jeremiah wasn’t speaking. He was shouting from somewhere near the phone. Holding it? Impossible to tell.
“Chris, Chris, there’s someone…” The rest was lost beneath wind and the ambient sound of that nearby street.
Chris shouted, “Jeremiah, I couldn’t hear you!”
“…Someone… Me!” Adding to the complications, Jeremiah was out of breath.
Finding himself on his feet, Chris strode over to the office door. He meant only to stand in front of it, but before he knew it, he had tossed it open and was running through the hall and past the other offices. Heads turned in his direction, staring. He ignored them all, crashing through the stairwell door and bounding down the steps two at a time.
“Address, Jeremiah. Give me the address.”
Sputtering puffs of breath. Pounding footsteps, and a skittering of gravel kicked up. “…Lexington…”
And then nothing. Another scuffle, a shout in the voice of the unidentified speaker. Then the call disconnected.
Fuck!
With the call cutting out like that, there was no way he could be certain of the street. Lexington Avenue? Drive? Street? Which district? North or south? Which way were they headed? Was Lexington even the road, or had it been the name of a landmark?
Chris threw himself into his car and raced out of the driveway. He drove with his knees, punching in Lexington into his GPS with one hand and calling the police with the other.
“Manhattan Police Department,” said a crisp voice. No doubt that professionalism was meant to soothe him, but Chris was not any normal citizen. Where the police were only trying to convey an air of confidence, a message that they had been thorough and done everything, Chris only felt like just another number. How was he any different from anyone else they saw, day in and day out?
“Listen closely,” he began. His voice was tense. The officer on the other end of the line went silent, clearly listening. No doubt this would come back to bite him in the ass later, but Chris couldn’t help it. “Someone is chasing my boyfriend. He called me. He was terrified!” His breath came in ragged gulps, like he was the one who was running scared. “All he could tell me was Lexington. I don’t know anything else or where they’re headed, please…”
“Okay,” the cop said, cutting him off. “We’ll send cruisers by all prime locations. Meanwhile, I need you to stay on the line with me and come to the station. What is your name, sir?”
No way in hell was Chris going to go to the station and sit there while god knows what happened to his precious unicorn. He said, “My name is Chris Finley. Blond hair, tanned skin.”
The officer sounded puzzled. “Okay?”
And Chris turned off the phone and threw it to the side, where it bounced off the passenger seat and clattered to the floor. It immediately began to vibrate as the officer tried to call him back but he ignored it. His point in describing himself was so that the po
lice had less of a chance of mistaking him for the bad guy. After all, he hoped to soon be chasing after Jeremiah too.
All that was left to do was floor it and hope against hope.
Chapter 20
He had no idea what he’d done to deserve this. He didn’t know who he had crossed or offended for this to happen. He didn’t know any of it. He just knew he was running for his life, thankful for all the wrong reasons that the man chasing after him didn’t have a gun. He did, however, have a baseball bat that was wrapped in chains and barbed wire. For all intents and purposes, that might have been even worse. At least a bullet would be a clean, swift death.
I can’t believe I was so happy just this morning and now I’m wishing for death. Jeremiah’s lips twisted but they couldn’t hold their position as ragged, explosive breaths burst up from his lungs again and again. He was sweating profusely, his clothes soaked and dragging at him. His arms ached. His legs ached. His lungs were absolutely on fire. He didn’t even know where he was. Street signs and other identifying marks flew by him without rhyme or reason and he couldn’t stop to look at them all, not when he could practically feel hooked metal tearing into the soft flesh on the back of his neck.
Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to rid them of the salt dripping into them in a steady stream, Jeremiah twisted around away from the main road and into another alley. No passersby would dare try to help him, even if they understood why he was running; he didn’t blame them, because he certainly wouldn’t have risked his own life to intervene in the life of someone who was being chased by a mugger. They would both wind up dead that way!
And he hoped that the cops might be called, but so far all the sirens were distant and no one found him. Not even Chris.
“I’m gonna getcha!” the man chasing him cackled. Why he didn’t seem to be tiring, Jeremiah didn’t know. Were all muggers in such good shape? Jeremiah hadn’t met one before to ask.