Making It Work

by Cari Z

  “You’re so incredible, I can barely stand you sometimes,” I told him honestly. “Let’s go to your office.”

  Actually, first we stopped by the bedroom for supplies and almost, almost got waylaid by the bed. It was a big bed, way too big for one person, and it looked lonely there by itself in the middle of the room. Lonely and soft, like we could sink into it, like I could just be surrounded by covers and Beau and die happy. Later, I promised it, we’ll despoil you properly.

  We hit another little snag once we got to the office, although “snag” didn’t really carry the right connotations. More like “big sexy jealous fit,” and I loved it.

  His desk here was even nicer than the one at work, obviously an antique, made of mahogany and with an embossed leather inlay. It was uncluttered, just the way Beau liked his things to be. I wondered if it would hold my weight, but Beau didn’t seem to have any doubts as he lifted me up— actually lifted me— and set me down on it. He helped me out of his jacket and then got started on the polo. “Where’n God’s name did you get this thing?” he murmured as his lips traced the line of my jaw.

  “Mmm… from Aaron.”

  Beau pulled back to glare at me. “Why’re you wearing Aaron’s clothes?”

  “Do you know your accent gets thicker when you’re turned on?”

  “Eric.”

  “I went over to his apartment last night,” I said, slowly undoing Beau’s tie as I talked. “To get him ready for you.” I unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, taking my time to look and touch. His chest hair was the same silver color that I loved, crinkled and gorgeous, and his nipples were just begging to be played with. “Because otherwise he would have shown up tonight looking like me, and,” I chuckled, “I didn’t want that for you.” I kissed his collarbone and the divot at the base of his throat as I pulled his shirt out of his pants. “I drank too many beers, slept on his couch, missed my alarm and had to borrow something of his for work. That polo was the closest to fitting.” I brushed my fingers across his bare stomach, and then trailed them down to his belt buckle. “And then you got a fashion disaster anyway, because you somehow ended up with me.” I glanced up at him, a little nervous. “What happened with Aaron?”

  “He showed up,” Beau said, pressing our bare chests together. He was so warm, it made me sigh. “We talked for a few minutes. Figured out what was going on, I thanked him for his time, he told me there were no hard feelings, and then I texted you. I didn’t want it to be anyone but you with me tonight.” He slipped his hand inside my pants and gripped my cock through my boxers, making me bite my lip to keep from whimpering. “I just want you.”

  “Me too. You. Me too, for you… oh, fuck!” In one smooth motion, Beau had jerked me forward and pulled my pants down past my hips, and now he was getting down on his knees and oh my God, this sort of thing just didn’t happen to me, there was no way Beau Montgomery was about to suck my cock, because my life had never been so—

  His lips closed around me. I shut my eyes and held onto the desk with both hands, gripped it hard enough to bite into my skin, anything to keep me from coming right then and there. Then I had to open my eyes, because there was no way I wanted to miss watching this. He wrapped one hand around the base of my cock, the other one teasing between my legs as he slid his mouth down my shaft, his tongue pressing and licking. When he pulled off with a faint pop, I was almost relieved, because I was really close.

  “Lube,” he said, holding out a hand. I dazedly looked around for the bottle he’d brought in, handed it to him and watched with fascination as he slicked up his fingers. Usually I liked to prep myself, I knew what I could take and it was just easier, but Beau was special. I wanted him in me, any part of him I could get, and his hands… I’d spent hours staring at his hands. Days, probably, over the total length of our relationship. They were gorgeous, and I wanted them.

  The first finger entered me, and oh, it was perfect. Not too slow and hesitant, like some blushing virgin who didn’t know what he was getting into, and not fast and furious either, like someone getting right down to business. He fucked me smoothly, stretching me, spreading the lube and teasing my prostate and sucking my cock all at once. This time, I did have to keep my eyes shut because I was so close I could feel my body fighting to break free and orgasm. No, I insisted, not yet. Not yet not yetnotyetnotnotnot…

  “Please,” I begged, at some point, it could have been seconds; it could have been half an hour later. “Please, Beau, I need to come.”

  “Not until I’m in you,” he said. His voice was a gravelly husk, raw from taking my cock, raw with want. He pulled his fingers out— fingers? When had they multiplied? —and let go of me, and I almost screamed with frustrated desire.

  “Don’t touch it,” Beau warned me as my hand twitched downward. “That’s mine, remember? I’ll take care of it.” He grabbed a condom and held it out to me. “You can touch mine, though.”

  “Oh, thank God.” I went to drop down, but he stopped me. “If you fuck me right now, I’m not going to last long,” I warned him.

  “You think I am?”

  “And I really, really want to give you a blowjob.” Did I ever want to, holy shit. Beau’s cock was about as long as mine, but it was thicker, rigid and hard, and I wanted it in my mouth so badly I was salivating.

  “Later,” he promised me. “Later, Eric.” And later would have to do.

  He felt like velvet under my fingertips, warm and smooth. I stroked him a few times, then a few more times, and then he growled and took the condom back, tore it open, and rolled it on himself. He turned me around, pressed my body down until my chest was flush with the leather, then leaned over me. His cock was right there, right there, and I tried to squirm back, but he held me still with his weight. Beau kissed the base of my skull, then the back of my neck, a moment of tenderness that I hadn’t expected. “You ready?” he asked me.

  “Yeah,” I said, all my smart-assery gone as I contemplated the fact that the man I’d been hopelessly in love with for the past two years was about to fulfill one of my most enduring fantasies. “I’m ready.”

  He pressed into my body, and we made the same desperate noise as he slid home. I felt so full, and my ass throbbed a bit as I adjusted to his size, but my cock was resolutely hard. He held still until my breathing evened out, then started to move. Slow at first, then quicker, harder. Beau was careful to hold my hips steady so my erection didn’t bang into the wooden drawer in front of it, but he pummeled me despite that. I fucking loved every moment of it, every pull, every thrust. I clawed onto the far side of the desk and held there, saying God knows what stupid, porny things, as I got closer and closer to the edge. I wasn’t going to last, I couldn’t, even without being able to touch myself, I couldn’t, and I must have been begging because then Beau’s hand was there, closing around me, jerking me in time with the movement of his cock inside of me, and—

  That was it. Done. Fucked so good I saw the white light, an orgasm so hard that I trembled like a colt as it washed through me. Beau came as well, slamming in deep and staying there, groaning in my ear, holding me, kissing me and touching me. He stayed inside of me as the swell receded, stayed on top of me, both of us slick with sweat. We laid there for a few minutes, just catching our breath and basking in the afterglow, before I remembered that I was on a desk, and it was kind of hard.

  “Bed?” I asked weakly.

  Beau laughed quietly and pulled back. “Bed,” he agreed.

  His bed was just as soft as I’d imagined, just as cozy and welcoming. Stress and sex made me sleepy, and we barely had time to do more than wipe ourselves off and lay down before we fell asleep. I woke up once in the middle of the night, the kind of shocked, jerky awakening that you only got in unfamiliar surroundings. Where was I again? Who had I…?

  “Mmm, Eric.” Beau slung his arm around my waist and stroked my hip. “Relax.”

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly, turning to face him. “I forgot where I was for a second.”

  “
S’fine, I understand,” he said. Even in the darkness, I could see his grin. “I can remind you, if you like.”

  My cock woke up right along with the rest of me. “Uh, yeah. That’d be great.”

  Round Two was less intense, but much sweeter. It also came with a shower, which we both needed by that point. I slept better after that, and in the morning, we got dressed— Beau’s clothes fit me much better— and ate cold pizza at his kitchen bar for breakfast.

  I was definitely in love.

  Not even Lorna’s extremely loud, excessively triumphant “I knew it!” when we arrived at Carrie’s birthday party could diminish my good mood. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I’d ordered Carrie a light-up, song-playing, bubble-blowing princess wand for her birthday. Her parents could look forward to listening to those tunes for months, which was probably about as long as it would take Lorna to stop crowing.

  There were logistics to figure out, roles to be established, and hurdles to overcome. As happy as I was with how things had turned out, I knew that in some ways, we didn’t have an easy path ahead of us.

  “Here,” Beau said suddenly, jolting me out of my reverie. “Eat this.” He pushed a bite of chocolate cake into my mouth, and I smiled even as my eyes rolled back in my head, because damn that was delicious.

  I had Beau. He had me. We’d figure out the rest.

  The End

  Author Bio

  Cari Z. is a Colorado girl who loves snow and sunshine. She’s been published with Dreamspinner, Less Than Three and Storm Moon Press among others, but her stories for the Goodreads M/M group events have been some of her favorite writing projects. This is her third year picking up a prompt, and it just gets more fun each time. Cari hopes that you enjoy reading what she’s put out there as much as she enjoyed writing it in the first place. Follow her blog, Twitter or Facebook for info on upcoming projects and recent works.

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