by CORY CYR
I suppose I could just sit here and have my own private pity fest, but I wasn’t going to bring down Trina on her wedding day. If things were different, I would just go back to New York—there was nothing holding me here. My best friend wasn’t enough to tether me to this place—Trina was married now and had Quinn. I should just sell the house, but I had no place to go. I couldn’t go back to New York even if I wanted to, not with Garrison most likely waiting in the wings to hurt me. At this point, I almost felt homeless.
It was almost eight o’clock by the time the reception died down. Trina had her suitcase packed and was getting ready to leave in a limousine to the airport. Quinn was taking her to the Fiji Islands for their honeymoon. I walked her to the limo and gave her a hug.
“I called you a taxi, and it’ll be here in twenty minutes,” Trina looked at me, her eyes suddenly teary. She handed me an envelope. “Ryan, please read this after I leave,” she said, squeezing my hand.
I hugged her and quickly released Trina to her husband, smiling to Quinn as she got into the backseat. I watched them drive away. I walked back into the reception to wait for the taxi. The busboys and wait staff were busy cleaning up. I opened the envelope that Trina gave me and pulled out a note in her rounded script.
Ryan,
Thank you so much for being my maid of honor. I know it was a lot to ask, considering everything you’re going through with Garrison and with Andrew. It wounds me more than I can say to see the two people I care about most, hurt so badly. You are so stubborn, Ryan. I know you feel something fierce for my brother; I see it in your face when you look at him. Andrew would wait forever if he thinks there’s a chance. You two obviously mean something to each other. Ryan, who cares about the age difference? You? You’re the only one, no one else would. You babysat him? So what. Somehow, you have to get past that because I can see it’s eating you up inside. Please for me, and give Andrew a chance. I know you won’t hurt him. I know you. If I thought this would end badly, I wouldn’t be begging . . . and I am. It’s tearing me up inside to see you two deny each other. Go to him, Ryan. I know you want to. I’m giving you permission. Be with him. I gave the taxi company his address. I need you to do this. It’s not for me . . . it’s for you, Ryan, and for Andrew. I know you are supposed to be together.
Trina
I stood there with my hand clutching the envelope, my body feeling disconnected from my brain. I was actually going to see Shea . . . I was going to his home. Is this something I really wanted? I wasn’t sure how I felt at the moment, and I felt like I was in a lucid dream state. I almost wished for an out of body experience so that this body could tell the other one what to do. Trina had basically given me the green light to bang her baby brother, and here I was, stunned as I tried to wrap my head around that revelation. Once I got to Shea’s apartment, what was I going to say? I could go over there with good intentions, but everyone knows the road to hell was paved with those. I couldn’t hurt him anymore than I had. It was making us both miserable. I was used to heartbreak, but Shea was still young, and he had quite a few years to rack up relationship anguish and pain. Maybe we could be friends—maybe we could start there.
I ran my hand through my hair. Whom was I kidding? Shea had brought me to orgasm in his car and I basically had fondled him with every intention of giving him a blowjob in a restaurant bathroom. He and I had already planted the seeds of desire in each other. Kissing him was the most euphoric pleasure I’d ever known. He was a master with his lips as well as his fingers, and there was no doubt I wanted to explore his other talents.
Just then, the taxi pulled up. I grabbed my bag and decided that I was going to my destiny.
Chapter FOURTEEN
By the time I arrived at Shea’s apartment it was a little after nine. I tried to pay the driver, but Trina had taken care of everything. I thanked him as he handed me a slip of paper with 24C on it . . . I guess that was Shea’s apartment number. The darkness had a snowy chill to it—it had to be below freezing. My cheeks felt rosy and cold and I was sure my lips would eventually turn blue if I didn’t find 24C soon. Of course, it ended up being quite a hike and towards the back. Thank God Trina had told the taxi cab driver which apartment was Shea’s and the driver got me as close to it as possible.
Even though the complex Shea lived in was small, it was spread out with lots of trees. The apartments looked kind of rustic and they were all single story. I could smell the pine trees that surrounded the complex. The sky was so dark that all the stars were bright enough to light the walkway. New York never had a sky as beautiful as this Alaskan sky. My nerves began to rise to the surface the closer I got to his door. I had contemplated the possibility that Shea might be pissed enough that seeing me at his home wasn’t something he even wanted now.
I tapped on the door quietly. I could hear soft music coming from inside. I stood there, almost dizzy from anxiety; I tapped again, using my knuckles. I heard the music stop abruptly, and then the door opened. Shea stood there, in nothing but his tux pants. I was suddenly caught somewhere between loss of oxygen and hyperventilation. His eyes went wide when he saw me, and he blinked a few times as if I were a mirage. He stood there, all six feet, five inches of a bare foot, bare-chested, tattooed specimen of hot male. Holy . . . fuck me . . . those tattoos. His pants hung low on his hips and his abs were indented and cut. Shea had a very serious looking six-pack. His hips narrowed into a sexy “V” with a line of dark hair that trailed beneath his waistband. His chest was smooth and chiseled, along with muscular arms, and . . . He had tattoos. How did I not know Shea was hiding this perfect work of art beneath his clothes?
I felt my breath hitch and my mouth go dry. My purse and bag slipped out of both hands and fell to the walkway. I’d seen hundreds of tattoos in New York, but I had never seen any like this. It looked like a large vest of intricate tribal lines woven together in black and gray, so tightly inked that it appeared almost like. The tattoo went half way down his chest, covering his pecs, coiling around his shoulders, and curving onto his back. The pattern also extended over his bulging biceps, right down to his forearms. I’d never seen anything so beautiful. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it and I had to fight myself from reaching out and licking each line. The tattoos were hypnotizing. I just stood there and stared.
Shea looked carnal and all male. I felt my nostrils flare slightly and suddenly I became territorial. I hardly recognized the emotion; I had never felt it with anyone. He was mine, and I wanted him to possess him. The silence was deafening and the cold was paralyzing. I finally looked up from his chest and our eyes locked. He reached for me, his arms circling my waist and picking me up. As his lips crashed into mine he let out a moan, and I greedily sucked on his tongue, inhaling him into my mouth. He moaned again as his tongue probed every corner of my mouth, and I could feel his hardness against my belly.
As he held me, he closed the front door with his foot. He set me down, frowning slightly as he cracked the door back open, grabbing my purse and bag, then closing and locking the door securely. Taking a quick look around, I was surprised to see that Shea’s apartment was not what I expected. I thought it would be some single guy’s lair, but it clearly was a home. Everything was orderly and clean. The living room had a nice sofa set with a flat screen and sound system. There was a rocking chair off in the corner. Family photos decorated the walls along with sports memorabilia. There was even a small fireplace, which Shea was currently using. Out of the corner of my eye, on the rocking chair, was a cat—a big, fluffy, orange cat.
“That’s Pandora,” Shea said as he walked over to the cat and began stroking its fur.
“I didn’t know you had any pets,” I mused, walking over to him. I could hear Pandora purring loudly.
“Well, I do work for a vet. Saving animals is what I plan to do with my life,” he stated as he walked into his kitchen. “You want a beer?”
“Not a beer, but if you have anything else warm, that would be good,” I said, shivering as I moved int
o the kitchen behind him.
“Irish coffee?” he asked as he opened a cabinet, getting a bottle of whisky down.
“I’m so cold, so maybe just the whiskey,” I chuckled as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, trying to circulate blood back into them.
He poured me a small glass of whiskey. I took it gratefully, and then watched him walk back into the living room to throw another small log into the fireplace. He then moved over to his stereo and turned the music back on, which was classical jazz. I sat down on the sofa, sipping my drink, realizing that I really didn’t know anything about Shea the man. Everything I had based my decisions on had been because of him as the eight year-old I used to babysit. Thirteen years later, Shea was an intelligent, hardworking, and wickedly sexy man. He was kind, funny, and charming—he was the kind of man that any woman would want. Shea sat next to me, Indian style, on the sofa. His height and his leanness made his body look perfect. He had not one ounce of body fat, and as he sat there, I could see that everything from his shoulders to his abdomen looked rock hard, smooth skin stretched over heavily defined muscle. Inches of tattoos swirled and blended into his strong chest and arms.
“Are you still cold?” he wondered, his eyes drifting to my coat.
“No, I’m finally beginning to warm up,” I replied. In all honesty, I still felt a little chilled, but I was raging hot at the same time. Between the drink and Shea’s scantily clad body, my pulse spiked, and I felt the thumping in my neck, my wrist and in between my thighs. Shea looked at me, his eyes sensual and intense. I felt my body quiver as my breathing quickened.
Shea moved his hands over to the front of my jacket and began undoing each button. Once they were all undone, he positioned me so he could remove the coat. I was still wearing my maid of honor dress.
“I really like this dress,” he remarked and pressed a kiss to my bare collarbone. I blew out a breath and the touch of his warm lips on my body made me shudder. I felt like this was my first time with a man because I was so nervous and excited.
“Did I tell you how much I like this dress?” he repeated as he pressed small kisses over my shoulders and neck. Each kiss made my nipples stiffen into hard points, pressing against my bra, heightening their sensitivity. I closed my eyes and licked my lips as his hand drifted to the back of my dress, and I stilled as the zipper came down, softly scraping my sensitive skin. His breathing sounded slightly shallower, and faster, as he took the glass out of my hand, placed it on the nearest flat surface and stood up. As he pulled me up in front of him, my dress slid down to my ankles, and I stood there, in my strapless bra and panties, while his stormy blue eyes took in every inch of my bared skin. I gingerly stepped out of the tangled fabric at my feet and slipped off my shoes.
Removing my heels now made him over a foot taller. It amazed me how that simple difference in height increased the shivers running up and down my spine, ramping up my need double time as I stared at this truly gorgeous man. I gulped when he reached towards me and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand, his knuckles whispering across my flushed skin.
“Jesus, you take my breath away,” Shea murmured. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You don’t get out much, huh?” I joked nervously. He pulled me into his body, our flesh flush against each other. The incredibly close contact with his warm body had me trembling as he held me, and my panties dampened with wanton need as his granite-hard cock—a formidable bulge that threatened to split his pants wide open—pressed into my belly. He bent his head, and the moment his plush lips met mine, sealing our hunger, my arms reached around him, my hands busily stroking, caressing, every inch of his muscled back and shoulders. I couldn’t help it—Shea’s kiss stunned my nerve endings, right down to my toes, and I writhed in his arms, desperate to satisfy the ache that was steadily building in my groin.
Without breaking our languorous kiss, Shea walked me backwards into another room, and I figured out pretty quickly that it was his bedroom when we finally landed on his bed, so big and soft with lots of quilts. Shea broke the kiss with a teasing nip to my lower lip—fuck, I loved that nibble!—and tossed half of the linens that were on the bed onto the floor. I sighed at his actions, already missing the comfortable warmth those quilts would have promised.
Shea stroked my cheek. “I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry,” he promised, rising from the bed. “I just don’t want anything between us.”
I watched with unbridled lust as Shea took off his pants. I stared as his cock stretched into full view. Holy fuck . . . what a view it was. I had felt it in the restaurant bathroom and had quick glimpses of it, but I had not seen it in its full glory. When I had held him in my hand, I could tell he was pretty thick, but nothing prepared me for this visual assault on my senses. His long cock jutted out proudly in its swollen, erect state, but I sucked in my breath when I glimpsed the girth of his staff. My mouth dropped open—his thick, wide cock fascinated me as I gaped openly at the naked perfection before me. Between the size of his cock and the tattoos, he looked sexually lethal.
Licking my lips, my thoughts turned to tasting him, and savoring every single enticing inch of him—he owed me that much since he had denied me the pleasure at the restaurant. I watched him walk over to a small lamp, naked and intensely masculine, and then he pressed a button that allowed a sliver of light to pierce the soft darkness of the room. He lay back onto the bed, pressing his body against mine.
“You do realize you have on too many clothes, right?” he questioned, frowning. My skin was so hot and tight from anticipation that my bra and panties felt constricting and quite useless, especially since creamy fluid pooled in my thong, drenching it, and my nipples hardened to crushing points in my bra.
I looked up into his mesmerizing eyes, and then I lost all restraint—desperate need took over me.
I didn’t reply with a comment, I just scooted down to his waist. As I began licking around his belly button, I ran my hands over his chest. Shea groaned when I ran my tongue over his abs and on each side of his “V,” stopping just above the hairline to his cock. As I laid my head on his thigh, I traced a finger along his cock and felt him stiffen even more as I saw a drop of pre-cum bead at the tip of the crown. He threaded his fingers in my hair, leaving his hand on my head as if he needed to anchor himself for the pleasure I was giving him. I grasped his length in one hand, pumping it up and down slowly from root to tip, and I gently cupped his balls with my other hand. Shea’s moans increased in frequency when my tongue snaked out of my mouth and I licked the bead of fluid from his crown, then trailed my tongue along each side of his cock. When I came to the base, I gently lapped my tongue over his balls and then licked my way back up his shaft.
I let out a small growl as I engulfed his entire length with my mouth. He was very close to losing it, between his breathing and the throbbing in his cock, and he was on the verge of coming. As I continued to suck and lick, Shea released my head and slipped his hands down to my ass, squeezing my cheeks that were exposed by my thong. Between that and his steel cock I was devouring in my mouth, my body began to buzz with anticipation as I felt my juices coat my inner thighs. Worshipping him so intimately was sharpening my arousal, elevating me to the edge of ecstasy. The deeper I sucked, the more Shea’s cock swelled, and he was so hard and thick right now my jaw began to ache, along with my sex.
“Baby, let me pull out. I’m going to come,” I heard him say between ragged pants.
Since I had my mouth full, I really couldn’t speak. I wanted him to come—I wanted to taste him, to have him saturate my throat with his release. I needed him to fill me everywhere. I could feel Shea trying to struggle away from my mouth, but my need to keep him in there and his approaching climax made him bend to my will. Seconds later, he surrendered with a guttural cry and flooded my mouth and throat with his hot, salty release. I swallowed, over and over, until I had all of it and licked him clean. As he began to soften, I took him from my mouth and lay back on the bed. Shea sp
ooned into me, his breathing still labored.
“Baby . . . that was . . . amazing,” Shea croaked.
“I’m sure you’ve had blowjobs before,” I said, softly panting, moving to sit up.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t from you, and not like that. Jesus . . .” Shea said, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Be right back,” I whispered, jumping out of the bed.
“Hey, where are you going?” he asked as he reached for me, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom. He smiled hungrily.
“Just getting my drink . . . do you want me to get you something?” I asked as I sashayed to the door, flaunting my sexy bra and panties. Hmm . . . maybe they’re not so useless after all.
“Grab me another beer, please,” he asked, his voice strained. I chuckled.
I strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a beer for Shea, and then I picked up my drink from the coffee table. I took a few sips, swishing it around my mouth. I actually loved the taste of Shea—I just wasn’t sure he’d be so gung-ho about tasting himself on my lips and tongue. I was laughing softly to myself when I came back into the bedroom, where he had propped himself up on two pillows, looking wicked and rakish. Seeing him naked with all the tattoos started making me wet all over again, but I needed to put my lust on the back burner for the moment. I handed him the beer and sat on the bed.