Bad Boyfriend

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Bad Boyfriend Page 3

by K.A. Mitchell


  “If you’re coming with me, get in the car,” Quinn said and disappeared behind the door.

  But if Eli didn’t get in the car, he might never get another chance with a guy this hot.

  He yanked at the door handle and jumped in.

  “About time,” Quinn said and pulled away from the curb.

  “Wait.”

  Quinn stomped on the brake and looked over.

  “My seat belt.” Eli tugged it around him. “Okay.”

  Quinn turned and looked out of the driver’s window, like he was checking for traffic, but Eli could see his shoulders shake. He was laughing at him.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “Is everything always life or death?”

  “Yes. I mean, just because it isn’t at the moment, it could be. Don’t you ever watch disaster movies? Zombie apocalypses?”

  “That actually makes some sense. Are you sure I’m not drunk?”

  Eli could stand being laughed at if it meant the sex was going to be as good as he knew it would be. Just see if Quinn could laugh when Eli deep throated him. “Where do you live?”

  “Mount Washington.”

  Eli wasn’t sure he had cab fare on him to go that far into the suburbs.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll bring you back,” Quinn said. “But it is a long ride. I don’t want you to get bored and change your mind. Unzip.”

  “What?” But his hand was already on his zipper.

  “Open your pants and take out your cock.” Quinn accelerated up the ramp to the expressway north.

  Eli’s dick didn’t need much coaxing to want free of his tight black jeans.

  “Move your hand. Let me see what you’ve got.”

  Quinn’s approving groan echoed in the car and along Eli’s bones. “Sweet-looking cock. Looks wet. Are you that hard for me?”

  “Yes.” God, Eli could get off on nothing more than that voice telling him what to do.

  “Let me taste it.”

  Eli’s hips jerked as he rubbed his thumb across the head and offered it to Quinn. Even though Eli expected it, the wet heat of Quinn’s mouth made Eli jump like it was on his dick instead of his finger.

  Quinn checked his mirrors and then whispered, “Give me the rest of your fingers.”

  Eli fed them to him, knew when Quinn soaked them with warm spit from the stroke of his tongue what he would say next.

  “Now jack yourself. Don’t come, but I want to hear you panting.”

  Cars streaked by them, white and red lines of light, and Eli closed his eyes as his hand closed around his dick. It wasn’t wet enough, and it was his left hand, but doing this because Quinn told him to had him groaning in just a few strokes.

  “Faster.”

  Eli gave in to it, the coil of heat in his belly snaking through his balls.

  “You look so good like that. Anybody in a truck going by is going to see it too. See you jerking yourself off, mouth open and begging for a cock in it. Maybe someone will follow us. Maybe I’ll let him fuck your mouth while I fuck your ass.”

  Eli bit his lip, abs starting to strain because fuck, he was close already.

  “You get off on people watching, huh?”

  He didn’t. At least he never did before. But now, with Quinn in this dark, quiet car, nothing but the hum and rush of wind, Eli wished he dared to open his eyes and see if anyone was watching while driving next to them, staring at his dick as he stroked it. His breath caught in his throat and he gasped.

  “Don’t come.”

  The command snapped through him, leaving him hanging on the edge.

  “Put your hands on your thighs and look at me.”

  The air in the car was so heavy Eli could barely breathe. He rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to soothe the ache sinking down from his balls. He opened his eyes.

  Quinn’s gaze flicked over him and then back to the road. “Christ, you’re fucking hot. Let me taste you again.”

  If Eli touched his cock, he was going to come. If Quinn sucked on his fingers again, Eli was going to come.

  “I thought you were good, come on.”

  Eli clenched his jaw, his ass, his thighs, his abs and ran a finger over the slit, a hiss breaking through his lips.

  Quinn didn’t wait for him but lunged onto his finger, sucking it deep. “That’s it. Put your hand on your dick again.”

  “I’ll come.” And he almost never came without something in his ass, but this was fucking torture.

  Quinn didn’t say anything, and Eli tried a light stroke. The ache, the need, came roaring back, shaking loose inside.

  “Don’t,” Quinn growled.

  “Please. I’ll get hard again. God, please.”

  “No.” Quinn’s voice shook, and he slammed to a stop at the bottom of a ramp.

  Eli opened his mouth, and Quinn leaned over and kissed him.

  “Put it away now. We’re almost there.”

  Eli let his teeth scrape Quinn’s jaw. “Please, Daddy.”

  “Shit.” Quinn’s breath whistled sharply, and he jerked back. “No.” There wasn’t anything but heat in his smile now. “Be a good boy.”

  Chapter Three

  When Quinn had approached the little group at the edge of The Arena’s dance floor, he only had Jamie’s plan in mind. Get the very obvious gay guy with the goth hair and the eyeliner to come with him to the baby’s christening so they could all stop dancing around the word gay. If Chrissy hadn’t figured out by now that Peter and Quinn hadn’t just been roommates for ten years, Quinn showing up with Eli wouldn’t tell her any different, but at least the rest of the family could stop walking around on eggshells.

  All Quinn had meant to do was find out if Eli was free tomorrow and arrange to pick him up if he wanted to go along with the plan. Not in any permutation of said plan was having the twink look up at Quinn like he was the answer to all Eli’s prayers. That kind of admiration had gone to both Quinn’s heads. Still, Quinn hadn’t meant to do anything but use the attraction to convince Eli to come with him tomorrow, but then Eli had rubbed Quinn hard and grinned up at him with those light eyes ringed with black and called him Daddy.

  That was a game Quinn would have never pictured himself playing until a rush of arousal hit him like a punch to the gut, and he had to stop himself from dragging that smiling mouth down onto his cock in the middle of the dance floor.

  But what was hot and fun in the club and flying up the expressway in the dark looked different in the warm light of his front hallway. He shut the door behind them. In the club, Eli had fit. Here…he had on black nail polish and a long silver chain hanging to right between the nipples showing through the mesh of his shirt.

  Eli stopped under the hall light, and that only made it worse. Quinn wouldn’t go so far as saying Eli looked as young as the ninth graders Quinn taught world history to, but he didn’t look too many years older. Christ.

  Eli’s lip curled and then he stepped into Quinn, pushing him against the door. One scrape of teeth against his jaw and Eli dropped to his knees with the kind of graceful motion that said he’d done it way too many times to have earned a label of cock tease.

  Now would be a good time to ask how old he was, but Eli already had Quinn’s belt unlatched and his fly down. When Eli rubbed his face into the cotton stretched tight over Quinn’s dick, Quinn forgot everything but that there was someone hungry for his cock.

  “Can I get a taste?” Eli looked up.

  “Yeah.” Quinn’s hand brushed Eli’s hair out of his eyes, though Quinn would have sworn he only meant to urge Eli closer. The hair was softer than he’d thought it would be, not gelled hard. In this light, Quinn could see it wasn’t a true dyed black, but a brown as rich as fresh coffee.

  Pulling Quinn’s dick free of the fly, Eli used his lips in quick sucking touches around the head. Quinn forgot all about the hair in his hand, leaning back, bracing himself against the need spiraling through him, against the next whispered Daddy to push him to the edge of control.

 
; Quinn let his head thunk against the door as Eli’s tongue curled around the rim in a slick caress before he pulled off.

  “Can I have some more, Daddy?”

  Quinn rubbed his thumb across Eli’s lips. Something in Eli’s voice, in the light eyes that stared up at him, said he sensed Quinn’s hesitation. Maybe Eli was falling back on their game as a way of pretending diffidence in case Quinn was about to throw him out.

  Quinn wanted to tell him to relax, that it wasn’t so much Eli as Quinn’s tendency to think too damned much that had put a chill on the heat they’d created in the car.

  Tightening his grip on the long hair, he tapped his cock against Eli’s cheek. “Don’t get greedy, boy.”

  Eli grinned and they were back on script. He waited, lips soft and open while Quinn rubbed his dick across Eli’s face. When Eli tried to catch a taste with his tongue, Quinn shoved forward, then hung on a sweet edge as the pressure of Eli’s throat tried to work him in deeper. With a hard yank of hair, he tipped Eli’s head back and away.

  “Bedroom?” Eli whispered.

  That would be good. Except there was a question Quinn kept forgetting to ask with that mouth so close to his dick.

  “Eli…”

  Eli sat back on his heels, lips twisting in a wry smile. “Twenty-two. I’ll be twenty-three next month.” He reached back into his pocket.

  The condom he slapped into Quinn’s hand wasn’t a surprise, but the wallet was. “I get carded at R movies.” Eli flashed a real smile and then his face stilled. “I don’t go bare. Ever. That goes for coming in my mouth too.”

  Quinn couldn’t help himself, he had to check the ID. Eli’s license—hair swept away from his face and a wide-eyed stare at the camera that made him look twelve—said he’d be twenty-three on November 18, next month, like he’d said. “Okay.” The matter-of-fact way Eli had covered his age and safety issues with a patience born of repetition made him seem twice his age. The guys Quinn had been with since Peter had either covered the issue quickly with a “Got one?” or tried to tell him they wouldn’t need it.

  Eli tucked his wallet away and reached for his front pocket. “I’ve got lube—”

  “I have that.”

  Eli’s quicksilver mood shifted again, lower lip sliding out in a surprisingly sexy pout. “Can I show you how good I am now, Daddy?”

  Quinn pitched his voice as deep as he could. “Get your ass upstairs and we’ll see.”

  Eli had no trouble finding Quinn’s bedroom since he was leaning back on the bed, legs spread wide, wearing nothing but his mesh shirt, jewelry and a pair of tight black boxers by the time Quinn came through the door. The bedside lamp warmed Eli’s pale skin.

  “Lie back.” Quinn shucked his jeans, briefs and shirt before stepping to the side of the bed. “And get over here.”

  Eli slid, spine and hips rippling like he was dancing as he moved his head where Quinn wanted it, hanging over the edge of the mattress. He stretched his neck to put his tongue on Quinn’s balls, a growl in his throat as Quinn rocked close enough to let him get his lips on the sac.

  “Suck,” Quinn gasped, but he was pretty sure Eli didn’t need the instruction. With his hand, Eli managed to feed both balls inside stretched wide lips and gave a sweet, spit-sloppy tug.

  Eli reached back and held on to Quinn’s thighs, the pull on the sensitive skin sending pulse after pulse of blood to make his cock lift toward his stomach.

  “Good boy. Knew you could use your mouth for something besides pouting.”

  Eli let go and took a deep breath, using the point of his jaw to outline the shapes under the wet skin, burying his nose at the base of Quinn’s dick.

  The way Eli made no secret of how much he wanted Quinn, loved the sweat and smell and taste of another man, dredged up an unwilling comparison to the man who’d acted like he’d been humoring Quinn’s needs for too long. Anger with himself for letting Peter still get to him, especially here and now, forced a rougher demand than Quinn intended. “Gonna take it all, boy? Are you a good little cocksucker?”

  “Please. Give it to me.” Eli licked around the base, lips tugging on hair, sucking the skin.

  Quinn rolled his balls across Eli’s chin again, and Eli licked the skin behind, tongue flicking up, a teasing shock as he brushed Quinn’s hole.

  He stepped back. “Did I say you could have my ass?”

  Eli gave him an upside-down smile and then faked an apologetic pout. “Sorry, Daddy.”

  Quinn wanted to erase that cocky grin. Erase every other guy who’d played Eli’s game and let him win. Wipe away both their histories in a flood of come until Quinn and Eli were the only people in this bed. Until Eli couldn’t say Daddy without seeing Quinn there instead of one of any of those other tricks.

  “Stop talking and do it.” Quinn laid the tip of his dick against Eli’s lips.

  “Want a condom?” Eli twisted his neck to try to see Quinn’s face as he asked.

  “Don’t worry. Daddy’s not coming until he’s deep in your ass.”

  Eli moaned and opened his mouth. Smooth lips, hot tongue, hard slick bone at the top, then the soft twitching pressure of Eli’s throat closing around him.

  “Let me in, honey. I won’t choke you.”

  Eli straightened his neck, and Quinn moved deeper. The flutter of muscle as Eli worked to swallow him down made Quinn have to grab hard onto his own ass to keep control. Eli swallowed again, and his lips brushed the hair at the base of Quinn’s dick. They both groaned, the vibrations against Quinn’s skin peeling another layer off the thin hold he had on the need to fuck into that yielding flesh, batter Eli’s throat and drown him in cock.

  Quinn slid back to give him a chance to breathe, and Eli grabbed for him. Quinn pushed the hands off his thighs. “Daddy’s driving.”

  Eli’s chuckle teased the head of Quinn’s dick, and he thrust forward to stop it. Eli took him in, swallowed and let Quinn fuck his mouth. Pleasure curled tight and hot in his belly from the sensations, from the knowledge that he finally had all of Eli’s focus at the moment. Quinn shuddered, felt the echo in the man underneath him and opened his eyes to find Eli’s briefs down, hand busy on his cock.

  He pulled out and slapped Eli’s forearm. “That’s mine, boy.”

  Eli twisted his head until he could see Quinn’s face, scanning it as if he doubted Quinn was serious.

  Quinn might have been surprised by the new kink in his sexual repertoire, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give it everything he had. He pitched his voice as deep as it would go. “You don’t come until Daddy says so.”

  Eli groaned and lunged back for Quinn’s cock.

  Quinn moved around the bed, scooping lube and a condom from the drawer in the nightstand and tossing them on the bed. Eli kicked his briefs the rest of the way off, but before he could pull off his shirt, Quinn reached out and pinched a nipple peeking through the mesh.

  Eli jumped and then moaned.

  “That’s why you wear that, right? You want people to think about this.” Quinn leaned in and sucked hard, tongue flicking over the tight bud.

  Eli’s fingers threaded through Quinn’s hair, breath making quick pants in his ear that turned into a whine when Quinn used his teeth.

  Quinn pulled off when he heard the whine shift from pleasure to pain.

  “Shit.” Eli panted and looked up at him, something less self-assured, less practiced in his eyes.

  “Roll over.”

  In a flash, Eli was on his knees with his ass in the air.

  Quinn bent over him, shoving the shirt up over Eli’s head, kissing along the bony spine to give him another press of teeth in the thicker flesh of his shoulder.

  “Oh yeah.” Quinn slid his hand over the sharp bones of Eli’s hip, wrapped a fist around the hot skin of his cock and held on tight enough to feel the vein pulse with blood. “Those two little words get you hard and dripping like nothing else.”

  Eli groaned, head thrown high, hair soft against Quinn’s cheek.

>   Quinn straightened and pressed his other palm against Eli’s ass. “You grind this ass against all the guys, wanting someone to throw you on your knees and fuck you blind.”

  “Yes. Please. Fuck me.”

  “You like to get done, boy. And you think because you can suck cock and take it up your ass you can make guys crawl for you.”

  Eli shook, trying to get pressure somewhere, but Quinn’s hands weren’t moving and nothing Eli did earned him any friction. “Come on.” The words were wrapped in a soft whine.

  “And that makes you want a Daddy to tell you how to take it?” Quinn took his hands away and shoved his cock against Eli’s balls.

  “Yes. God, Daddy, please.”

  Quinn shifted again so his dick slid up along the crack of Eli’s ass, letting his chest settle along Eli’s back, putting his mouth right next to Eli’s ear to growl, “Not good enough, boy. You want to get off tonight, you’re going to have to work for it.”

  “Fuck.” The word seemed to jump out of Eli, followed by a low laugh. “You’re killing me.” His voice was still full of hunger, but Quinn thought he was hearing the real Eli.

  Quinn slicked two fingers and rubbed them over Eli’s hole, slowly increasing the pressure until Eli rocked toward him.

  “That the kind of work you mean?” The self-assured grin was back in Eli’s voice.

  “Not even close.” Quinn gave in to the desire to chase the smugness away with a hard slam in.

  “Oh, shit.” Eli’s breath rushed out in a gasp as his muscles clamped around Quinn’s fingers.

  Quinn started to pull them back.

  “Don’t apologize,” Eli said quickly.

  “Not planning on it.” Quinn twisted his fingers. “You know how to take it, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes.” Eli relaxed around the motion.

  Cock tease or not, Eli was tight, even with his ass no longer crushing Quinn’s fingers. Turning his wrist, Quinn moved his knuckles inside, rubbing and searching for the right angle.

  “Yeah.” Eli’s muscles fluttered in time to that satisfied grunt. “Want your dick now, please.”

 

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