by E. S. Carter
“I uh, I wasn’t interested in continuing to be known just for my body. I wanted to change my career path and despite it being a great opportunity and a huge amount of money, it wasn’t what I wanted or needed at that time.”
“I get that.” His eyes connect and hold with mine, “And for the record, as amazing as your body is, I’ve always seen you as more than that.”
The air around us thickens. He’s making his intentions known and now is the time for me to succumb to it or end it once and for all.
“I want to get to know you, Flynn.”
His words snap me out of my internal war, and I once more lift my eyes to his intense hazel stare.
“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want you in my bed, but for whatever reason,” he laughs to himself and shakes his head before once more ensnaring me with his gaze, “I want to get to know you more. I could use a friend, I’m guessing you could too, so how about it?”
He holds out his hand to me, and I drag my eyes from his face to look at his gesture of friendship.
He’s right. I’ve been pretty closed off, only allowing Elaina into my inner circle, but could we ever just be friends?
My head lifts to his open and honest face. His ridiculously attractive face, and the decision is easy. He’s giving me a second chance, and I’m taking it with both hands.
So that’s what I do. I turn and fully enclosed Isaac’s large, warm hand between both of mine, giving it a firm shake.
“Friends sounds good.”
My agreement sets off a chain reaction.
His face breaks out into a genuinely happy grin, and a bolt of electricity passes between our joined hands at the touch of his skin on mine and the open joy on his face.
“Let’s drink to that. I spotted a pool table in the next room. What say we seal this friendship with a tournament? Winner pays for the drinks.”
“Deal. But get your wallet ready. I’m playing to win.”
A few hours later after successfully wiping the floor with Isaac and drawing almost the entire pub around the pool table after he proclaimed that drinks for everyone were on the winner, we take our leave. It takes us ages to escape the good natured ribbing he gets from the locals, many of whom ordered double and triple spirits when he got out his wallet.
“I guess that backfired. Having four brothers you’d figure I’d be better at pool.”
We walk side-by-side in the same direction, having found out during our game of pool that Isaac’s rented house is directly opposite mine.
“I did warn you I was playing to win,” I tease good-naturedly.
I haven’t had so much fun in ages, because despite his protests, he was playing to win, so the competition was friendly but fierce.
“That you did. I guess I’ll learn to heed the warnings next time. I mean the fact that I didn’t even pick up my cue during the first game should’ve clued me in to the fact that I was up against a fucking pool shark.”
A hearty laugh falls from my mouth and echoes on the quiet, empty street.
“Sign of a misspent youth. Growing up where I did you could either hang around the park and do drugs and booze or hit up the Snooker club. I’ve always been into sport so the park and its illicit poisons never really enticed me. Plus, my brother liked to play, so we used any pocket money we had to pay for tables.”
“Is he a pool shark like you?”
The question is innocent and a natural progression in our conversation, but it still jars me for a moment.
“He died when I was seventeen.”
Talk about how to put a downer on a good night.
He’s silent for a moment and I anticipate the usual response most people feel expected to give of ‘I’m sorry’, but instead he places his hand on my shoulder and quietly says, “That must have been hard for you.”
I’m not sure which part sends a rush of warmth through me, the touch of his hand or the concern of his words.
“Yeah. I kinda lost my way for a while. When I say ‘while’ I should really say it’s only recently that I’ve been getting my shit together.”
“There isn’t a time limit on grief.” He talks like a man who knows.
“I guess not.”
We walk a few minutes longer in silence and turn onto the entrance of our street. With each step, the air around us thickens. This is the part where we say goodbye and all of a sudden instead of feeling like this is the end of the night in the pub with a new friend, it feels like the end of a date. For a man who has only ever dated women, it’s a confusing thing to feel those butterflies towards another man.
“This is me.” Isaac stops walking outside a small, red gate and motions to a house similar in appearance to mine.
“And I’m just over there, so if you need to borrow a cup of sugar I suggest knocking the door of another neighbour because I don’t buy any.” I run my hand down over my broad chest and add jokingly, “My body is a temple.”
I expect him to laugh but when our eyes clash after he follows the movement of my hand, all I see his heat, hunger and a need so brazen that when his lips part slightly and I see just the tip of his wet tongue, my cock stands up and takes notice so fast that I experience a head rush. All the blood in my body drains from my extremities and pools in my groin leaving me light headed.
He blinks just once, breaking our intense connection and I see the shutters come down and the lust get covered with a mask of friendliness.
“Well… Goodnight, Flynn. I had a great night with a new friend.”
That word on his tongue sounds wrong.
Friend.
I’m going to blame lack of blood and oxygen to my brain for what I do next.
It takes just one step forward to put us toe to toe and the way his breath hitches in his throat tells me the move was both unexpected and welcomed. It’s a complete turn on.
Wrapping my hand around the back of his neck, our heights almost match meaning I only have to dip my head a fraction to bring my mouth to his but before I take his lips in a ferocious kiss I growl out, “Fuck friends.”
The rasp of my stubble across his smooth skin sends shivers of want down my spine. When his tongue thrusts through my parted lips, he’s not gentle or hesitant. He takes, he owns, and he pillages. Our mouths duel, chasing the need that pulses between us and I have never felt this level of desire for another person.
Which is why when I put both my hands on his firm chest and push him away, I curse myself for not just giving in and allowing him to take what he needs. What we both need.
“Stop. This-” I motion with my finger between us “-isn’t going to happen. Not again.” I pant out the words, my chest rising and falling frantically in an attempt to draw enough air into my lungs.
“I can’t do this with you again. Once, fool on you. Twice, fool on me, but three times makes us both as stupid as each other.”
He drops his hands and rams them into his jean pockets, his shoulders slumping and his eyes unable to meet mine.
“I’m sorry, I thought… I shouldn’t have…”
His embarrassment is palpable. The confused, hurt and ashamed expression on his face is almost my undoing. I don’t want to shame him or hurt him, but I refuse to be used and then tossed aside again.
“Listen,” I rest my hand on his shoulder, and he tentatively lifts his head to look at me. “I’m not going to lie and tell you that wasn’t the best kiss I’ve had in a long time because it was.” I smile softly and can’t help but lick my lips to taste him once more. “But we’ve been down this road twice before, albeit in different circumstances. I haven’t changed who I am, and I haven’t stopped wanting you, but I’m not an experiment, Flynn and I’m not your punching bag for whatever issues you have…”
“I wasn’t…”
I squeeze his shoulder and interrupt, “Please let me finish. I can see things are different for you and that you’ve changed but I’m still a man, Flynn, and you’re still attracted to women only.”
“I’m att
racted to you. Shit, it’s more than that, it’s always been more than that.” His eyes hold mine, and his face sheds his embarrassment to be replaced with a look of yearning. “I promise to try and explain and earn your forgiveness, and I do want to be your friend, but fuck if you don’t make me a little crazy and I can’t help but want to take this further.” He closes the space between us once more and hesitantly lifts a shaky hand to my face, his palm caresses my jaw as his thumb skims my cheekbone. Unbidden, I lean into his touch, wanting more of this, needing more of him, consequences be damned.
“Can we at least try? Because this thing between us is only getting stronger. I know you feel it. Can we be friends who maybe…kiss? And stuff.”
God, his shy goofiness, a direct contrast to the demanding kiss he just landed on me, begs me to take him in my arms and do more than just kiss and stuff.
Losing all of my common sense and falling deeper into his dark brown eyes and timid smile, I lean forward the few inches to whisper across his lips, “How about you come inside for a nightcap, and we can see if you still want to kiss… and stuff?”
His reply is to lean in further until our mouths seal in the softest of soft kisses. He exhales against my lips, his eyes remaining open and locked on mine when he says, “Invite me in, Isaac.”
Then we are a blur of lips, tongue and wandering hands. I stumble backwards, dragging Flynn with me refusing to break our connection as I fumble through my pockets for the door key. Our mouths remain fused as I try and fail to get it into the lock and with a deep chuckle Flynn grabs the key from my hand, places one last kiss on my lips and effortlessly slides it into the lock, opening the door within seconds.
His cocky, confident smile surges straight to my cock when he says, “After you,” and motions me in before him. The glimmer of the streetlight on his kiss-wet, swollen lips is almost enough to make me say ‘fuck it’ and continue this right here on my front doorstep. By the look on his face when he raises his eyebrow at me and smirks, I guess he can see my intention too easily. Where did the shy, geeky man disappear? Because the man leading me in through my front door is self-assured and assertive and it makes me want to force him down to his knees where I can wipe the smile off his face with my cock in his mouth.
Not a good image to have when you just more or less told him you’d go slow, Iz. Chill the fuck out, I mentally chastise myself as I walk through the house switching on lights and trying to ignore the warmth of the man only one step behind me.
“Did you want another beer? Or a hot drink?” I open the fridge and scan the contents while Flynn leans up against the counter behind me. I bet he’s checking me out. I hope he’s checking me out.
“I’ll take a water, if you have one. I’ve got an early start in the morning. It wouldn’t be good to show up on my second day with a raging hangover.”
Ah, yes. The film. The entire reason we’ve been thrown together again hasn’t entered my mind for the last few hours, but we both have important commitments tomorrow.
“True,” I say as I swing around, pushing the fridge door shut with my foot, a bottle of water in each hand. “It’s not Wicked Water, but I’m hoping it’ll do.” I smile to show I’m joking, but nerves flit across Flynn’s face before he does a good job of pushing them away and walks towards me. When I say walk, it’s more like he stalks towards me, his sights firmly set on my lips and not the beverage I’m offering.
“Thanks.” He takes a bottle from my hand and sets it down on the kitchen worktop, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’m not really thirsty for a drink.”
One more step and his strong hands tug me forward so he can once more claim my mouth.
This kiss is unlike the last few. It’s explorative, deep and slow. He uses his lips and tongue to memorise my mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft skin of my swollen lips before his tongue sweeps forward to soothe the sting. I can feel this kiss everywhere.
Not one to usually submit in these situations, I give as good as I get, mirroring his movements until the drinks are long forgotten, and our hands join in this sensual pursuit of getting to know each other better. In my quest to feel more of Flynn, and to touch more of his skin, I drop my full bottle of water on the floor and ignore the thud as it hits the tiles and rolls away across the kitchen.
My hands now free to explore, I use one to skim over the soft stubble on his head and the other to snake under his tight t-shirt until I feel the warm, firm skin of his lower back. With that initial touch, his entire body shivers and he drags me closer until we are chest to chest, thigh to thigh and groin to groin.
I can feel his thick erection as it rubs up against my rock hard cock and the groan that escapes my lips earns me a moan from Flynn followed by another shiver. Emboldened by his reaction, I test my luck further and rock up against him creating a delicious friction that will soon see me coming in my pants like a teenager dry humping his first date.
“Fuuuck. You feel too good,” he pants against my neck after breaking our kiss to drag in some air. My hips continue thrusting, and he meets my fervour, rolling his cock against mine each time and increasing the intensity of the feelings flooding my body.
I lick along the pulse point on his neck before nibbling it with my teeth eliciting a hiss of pleasure to fall from Flynn’s lips.
“Did I say…” he groans and sucks in a breath when I repeat the move, “kiss and stuff? I meant more. I need so much more, Iz.”
This man is going to be my undoing because against my better judgment I want to give him more. I want to give him so much more that if I think about it for too long, it would likely scare both him and me.
Pulling back, I look into his heavy-lidded, lust-filled brown eyes and can’t help but run my thumb over his plump lips. He reacts by taking the digit into his mouth and sucking it, hard.
“Fuck. I want to give you more. Let me make you feel good, baby.”
Baby? Fucking baby? Where the hell did that ridiculous pet name come from? In a blatant attempt to gloss over my slip of the tongue, pointless because Flynn’s eyes widened at the endearment falling from my lips, I run my hand down to the front edge of his t-shirt and drag it out of his jeans. Slowly, I inch the fabric up over his body, first exposing his lickable six-pack, up over his firm biteable pecs and swiftly over his head until he’s topless before me.
Flynn’s body is a sight for sore eyes. It’s a work of art, one I’d love to get in front of my lens again or even better, under my naked body.
Stilling my hands with his before they can reach the button of his jeans, he hesitantly licks his lips and says, “No. I want to make you feel good.”
Sweet baby Jesus. Like I said, this man is going to be my undoing.
“You don’t have…”
He silences me with a finger to my lips. “I want to, Iz. I need to. Let me taste you, let me make you come undone.”
Before I can protest- not that I want to, I mean how often does a Greek God of a man beg you to let him taste you? Not often e-fucking-nough let me tell you -he slides his way down my body until he’s kneeling on the hard ceramic floor at my feet.
The vision of the strong, powerful, sexy man on his knees for me and only me has my cock throbbing like a jackhammer. The thing is practically digging its way out of my pants.
With confident fingers, he makes quick work of the buttons on my jeans and then he’s sliding the denim off my hips and down my thighs, the backs of his hands skim across the hairs on my legs making my knees practically buckle. My boxers follow quickly until I’m standing above Flynn Phillips with the hardest cock I’ve ever had in my life.
He stares at it transfixed, his face reflecting a mixture of nerves, lust and a touch of apprehension.
I have to remember that although he’s seen a cock before he’s likely never seen another man’s up close and personal and definitely not one that is seconds away from spurting all over his handsome face.
I close my eyes to push away the image of Flynn Phillips’ gorgeous face painted in ri
bbons of my cum. Fucking hell, I’m about to make that vision a reality despite the fact he hasn’t even touched my cock yet.
“Fuck. You’re killing me here, babe.” I can’t help the groan of frustrated need that accompanies my words. I don’t want to push him, but I’m kinda standing here with my raging boner pointing right at his lips while he wears a look that is part deer caught in the headlights and part starving diabetic with a sweet tooth locked in a chocolate factory.
“It’s so fucking big.” His words are both flattering and laughable. I mean every guy wants to be told he’s massive but not when the person saying it looks a touch petrified. It’s not as if my giant cock is going to kill him. Well, it might if he doesn’t wrap his fat fucking lips around it in the next few seconds.
I huff out a small laugh and then fist my cock at the root, angling the tip in his direction.
“It doesn’t bite I promise, but it’s not too late to back out,” I whisper as I stroke up my length, then twist my hand over the head encouraging a bead of pre-cum to escape from the tip. I’m relieved to see him lick his lips at the sight and lean in a fraction closer, his eyes now showing more desire than nerves.
“I’m more afraid I might bite it, it’s not like I’m a pro at this,” he replies, his stare still fixed on the blush red head of my cock.
I tilt my hips forward a little until his lips are a hairsbreadth away and the heat of his mouth washes over my pulsing shaft. My body screams at me to take control and force my ridged length past his plump lips to sink into the wet heat of his hungry mouth. If he were anyone else, I would, but Flynn needs to take this final step. This is his choice to make and his last chance to back away.
My body feels coiled as tight as a spring, the pulse in my shaft an ache that borders on pain. Never have I wanted someone’s mouth on me as much I do his.
Suck my cock, Flynn. Take it. I mentally beg.
Between one blink of my eyes and the next, I am engulfed in tight, warm, wet heat. There are no explorative licks, no hesitant whispers of lips. He takes my cock right to the back of his throat and instinctively swallows tearing a string of expletives from my mouth.