by L. A. Witt
Let’s do your place this time. I should give my roommate some advance warning if we’re going to come here.
Fair enough, he wrote back. I have every other weekend off. Fri-Sun.
Must be nice.
I also work every other weekend, Fri-Sun.
I grimaced. Could be worse, right?
Could be. But that means I’m all yours for three days.
Wouldn’t take much for me to be there next weekend. My pulse was absolutely thundering now. I wasn’t usually this forward, taking the initiative and all but inviting myself to his doorstep. I just wanted him that bad.
Book a ticket, he wrote. I’ll cover half.
A second later, Looking forward to seeing you again.
Oh, I thought, you better be planning on doing a hell of a lot more than “seeing” me.
But all I wrote was, Me too.
As often as I woke up with my temples pounding, I should’ve been used to it. And maybe I was. I just didn’t like it. Sort of like I didn’t like waking up at stupid thirty to the shrill sound of—
Why isn’t my alarm going off?
Oh fuck!
I jumped out of bed so fast I nearly stumbled, and my head throbbed harder.
What time is it? I’m fucking late. Will’s going to—
Wait. Hang on.
I eased myself back onto the edge of the bed as reality crept in. Blinking my eyes into focus, I checked my phone. It was almost 0700, well past when I should’ve been at work, but under that . . .
Friday.
And it was my weekend off. My weekend to spend with that gorgeous redhead who was flying in from Denver this afternoon.
Releasing a relieved breath, I sank back onto my pillows and smiled. A few more hours, and I’d have Anthony here in my bed. If he’d been here right this second, wanting to jump my bones, I’d have had to pass. My head hurt too much, and while I wasn’t nauseated, I felt like I could be at any moment if I moved too quickly.
Slowly, carefully, I sat up. For almost a minute, I just sat there, letting the world stop rocking and my head stop thumping. I’d learned the hard way not to get up too fast when I was hungover, and patiently waited for my equilibrium to settle.
Hangovers sucked, but at least I had enough experience with them that I knew how to treat them as much as they could be treated. A lot of water. A hot shower. More water. Coffee. So much coffee. Some Visine to make my eyes look less incriminating, especially if I had to go to work. Still more coffee and more water. Maybe a little hair of the dog if it was really bad.
I’d eat once the nausea receded a bit more. There was plenty of time between now and when Anthony landed, and he had a couple of hours to drive after that. By the time he showed up, I’d have myself pulled together, and he’d never know I’d woken up red-eyed and groaning.
As I was halfway through my third cup of coffee, Anthony texted me.
Through security. Boarding soon. :)
I smiled. My head was still thumping, but there was time. And, hell, headache or not, I couldn’t wait to see him.
Fly safe, I wrote back. There was time. Plenty of time to get this aching out of my head and wake myself up so I was ready for him.
I hoped.
I was right. The throbbing in my temples stuck around for a while, but it had long since faded away by the time my doorbell rang. And in the time it took me to get from my sofa to the door, a very different throb was starting, and fortunately, its solution—not to mention its cause—had arrived.
Almost vibrating with excitement, I opened the door.
For a second, we both stood there, facing each other across the welcome mat. It was like seeing someone gorgeous in a crowd at the airport, losing them, and then finding yourself seated next to them on a plane. A second chance that didn’t seem remotely probable.
He was here. Anthony was here.
Still standing on my doorstep because I was an idiot.
I stood aside and gestured for him to come in, and resisted the urge to adjust the front of my pants as I turned to close the door.
God, he’s here. Finally.
I faced him again. “How was your—”
Anthony kissed me. Okay. Forget asking him about his flight. I wrapped my arms around him and opened to his eager kiss. Why had we waited this long before meeting up again? How long had it been, anyway? Because now that his erection was prodding my hip, and his fingers were combing through my hair, and his slim, strong frame was pressed against mine, it was like he’d never left in the first place.
“God, I missed you,” I breathed.
“Me too.” He let his lips graze mine. “Another week, and I was going to die of tennis elbow.”
“I don’t think tennis elbow is lethal.”
He moaned into a kiss. “I don’t think you understand how much I’ve been jerking off.”
I couldn’t even laugh. I was too busy kissing him, and too turned on by the image of him frantically masturbating like I’d been doing nonstop since he’d left. Especially since I’d watched him do it on the webcam enough times to have memorized his expressions and the sounds he made.
Bedroom. I need you in my bedroom now.
I pulled back and met his gaze, ready to suggest we move to the bed, but he jumped like I’d startled him.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked. “Your eyes are a little red.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” I curved my hands over his ass. “Allergy season.” I kissed him again, and he relaxed into it without missing a beat.
He dragged his nails up my back. “Surprised I didn’t have a hard-on the whole way here.”
I laughed, sliding a hand between us to cup his erection. “That might’ve made things awkward with TSA.”
“Probably.”
I rubbed his dick through his pants, and his gasp made my spine tingle. I grinned. “Bedroom?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good idea.” But then I kissed him again, and we didn’t get anywhere. He didn’t seem to mind. Not when he had his hands in my back pockets as he kissed me breathlessly.
Finally, though, we pried ourselves off the door and hurried to my bedroom. There, we stripped off our clothes as quickly as we could. As much fun as it could be to undress a guy while we fooled around, Anthony and I had never bothered with slowly unwrapping each other. I wasn’t about to start now. I’d been needing his body for too long to waste time. I wanted him against me, skin to skin, as quickly as possible.
The second I dropped my boxers on the floor, Anthony dragged me down on top of him, and it was definitely like we’d never been apart at all. We were right back to that week when we’d spent every available moment in bed together. Groping. Cursing. Making out. Making each other tremble. Making each other painfully hard.
For the next two nights, I thought, my head light and giddy, I get to have you like this. Finally.
Anthony rolled me onto my back. He stroked my cock, driving me wild, and then whispered, “You know what I was thinking about the whole way here?”
“Hmm?”
He squeezed my cock. “Having this thing balls-deep in me.”
I shivered again. “You know, for someone as toppy as you—”
“Is that a no?”
“Absolutely not.” I brushed my lips across his as I pushed my cock into his tight grip. “Just surprised you don’t want to be on top more often.”
“Didn’t say I wasn’t going to top the hell out of you tonight.” He bit playfully at my lower lip. “In fact, as soon as you fuck me and I catch my breath, I plan on plowing you into the mattress.”
“God, you’re dirty,” I groaned, and kissed him again, harder this time.
When he broke away, that sassy, demanding voice was gone, replaced by a soft, shaky plea: “I want you so bad.”
“Do you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Hmm. And what if I’ve been fantasizing about you on top?” I bent to kiss his neck, and he tilted his head back, exposing more skin and stretching it tig
ht. I continued down to his shoulder, and nipped his skin. “Nobody fucks like you do. It’s all I can think about when I’m alone.” I pressed my hard-on against him. “A toy isn’t the same, you know?”
“Mmm, you use a toy?”
“When I’m dying to be fucked, and the guy I want is three states away?” I bit harder this time. “You better believe it.”
“Oh, fuck.” He dug his nails into my shoulder. “You . . . you make a compelling argument.”
“Do I need to keep arguing?” I licked the spot I’d bitten, grinning when he swore. “Or are you going to be on top?”
He was quiet for a second. Mulling it over? Distracted? Hard to say. But then he slurred, “If I’m gonna be on top, I’m gonna fuck you till it hurts.”
I shivered. “Exactly how I like it.”
Anthony squirmed so hard and moaned so loud, I thought he was going to come just like that. But he didn’t, and he met my gaze with bright, lust-filled eyes. “Turn over.”
He made quick work of putting on a condom and lube. Oh, yes. Down to business. And I made a mental note to make sure he was good and fucked by the end of the night too.
Anthony knelt behind me and leaned over me. His teeth scraped my shoulder in the same instant his cock pressed against my hole. “You’re so fucking me after this.”
“You better believe. I’m—”
He took me roughly, and I loved it, crying out his name and God knew what else as he forced his dick inside me. His fingers dug into my hip, and he fucked me hard exactly like he’d been promising he would. It might’ve even been painful, but I was so lost in how good it felt, I didn’t care. As long as he didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t hold back.
“Fuck . . .” I let my head fall forward. “You feel . . . so . . .”
“Jesus Christ, this is so much better than my hand,” he groaned, and thrust into me harder. “Oh my God . . .”
I was out of words and the breath to speak them, so I just held myself up and enjoyed the ride. This was definitely better than taking care of things myself, whether jerking off or using a toy on my ass. My hand and my toys didn’t whisper my name in between growling “You’re so damn tight” and “You’re gonna make a minuteman outta me.”
I pressed my forehead into the pillow. I didn’t even need to touch myself—he was going to drive an orgasm out of me without either of us going near my dick. And, anyway, with as forceful as his thrusts were, I needed both arms to hold me up. Or at least hold me still.
“Gonna . . .” I heard myself say. “Oh God . . .”
“Don’t come yet.” Was he pleading? Commanding? I couldn’t tell. Couldn’t even be sure if he knew.
But he didn’t want me to come, so I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating on keeping my orgasm from taking over as he rode me hard and deep, as his voice grew to a low roar and his cock seemed to get even thicker.
He cried out, the helpless sound nearly sending me over the edge. “Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m . . .” His fingers dug harder into my hips, and my ass stung every time his skin slapped me, and then he was all the way inside me, buried there, his cock pulsing and his breath hitching until he finally exhaled and relaxed.
My whole body was throbbing from such violent sex, and it felt fantastic. After weeks of needing and wanting him, I finally had him, and I’d have the bruises to prove it.
Anthony pulled out carefully and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Get on your back.”
It took some work. My arms and legs had turned to liquid and weren’t quite connected the way they were supposed to be. But I managed.
Anthony had left the bedroom. The sound of water running in the bathroom explained his absence well enough.
Eyes closed, I stroked myself just to keep my neglected dick from driving me crazy.
I didn’t realize how long I’d been lying there, hand sliding up and down my hard cock, before Anthony said, “I could watch that all night.”
I opened my eyes, and found him grinning at me from the bathroom doorway. “Why watch?” I licked my lips. “Haven’t we done enough of that on the webcam?”
“Mmm, good point.” He crossed the tiny expanse of carpet, and in a heartbeat, he was on top of me. His hand pushed mine out of the way as his tongue pushed my lips apart, and I didn’t fight him. I loved how forceful and demanding he was, especially since I knew how easily he could turn around and beg to be pinned down and fucked. Switchy, feisty guys were my Achilles’ heel.
Anthony’s lips started down my neck and onto my chest. I bit back a frustrated curse. He was totally going to tease me by making a long, winding path of soft kisses all the way down before he finally put my cock in his mouth where it belonged, and if I let him know how much that frustrated me, he’d take ten times longer. Feisty and switchy somehow always meant an insatiable love of teasing.
Or did it?
He kissed his way down my breastbone in a straight, efficient line, not stopping to nibble my collarbone or fuck with my nipples. As he continued onto my abs, though, he paused to draw a circle with his tongue, which lit up my nerve endings like runway lights.
“Oh Jesus,” I breathed, arching off the bed as he continued down. He wasn’t wasting any time, and that made his brief tease that much more arousing. Those hot kisses were a turn-on in their own right, and more so as they led him straight to my erection.
He planted one kiss on my hip bone, and then steadied my cock with a hand around the base. He licked off all the pre-cum with a single swirl of his tongue around the head, nearly setting me off right then and there before he deep-throated me in one long, slow motion. One, two, three strokes like that, winding me up and making my toes curl.
And then there was nothing slow about it. His mouth concentrated on the head, and his hand furiously pumped the shaft, and in seconds, my vision was going hazy. He’d already fucked me nearly to oblivion, and his eager strokes and skilled tongue took me the rest of the way in no time flat.
I’d been moaning and gasping all along, but when I came, I didn’t make a sound. I probably tried, but the air wouldn’t move, and whatever—I was coming so hard, spurting inside Anthony’s talented, relentless mouth, that nothing else mattered. How the hell did he do that?
With a long sigh, I sank back onto the bed, wondering how high I’d actually levitated while he’d worked his magic, and panted as the dust settled.
Anthony came up beside me. I was breathing too hard to kiss him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He kissed my neck instead, which drove me wilder now that my skin was hypersensitive in the wake of such an amazing orgasm.
“Wow.” I wiped a hand over my face, and as he lifted his head, our eyes met.
Anthony grinned. “Your neighbors are going to hate me, aren’t they?”
Huh. Had I made a sound after all? Maybe. And he sure as hell had when he’d come.
“Well, they’ll get over it.” I combed my fingers through his sweaty hair. “And in case it’s not obvious, it is really good to see you again.”
I’d thought the first time with Noah had been hot. Hell, every time we’d been in bed—or on a couch, or in the shower, or wherever—had been hot.
But the first time after being apart for a while? Holy shit. It had been a good half hour since we’d collapsed next to each other, winded and satisfied, and I could still feel every thrust in my achy hips. I could only imagine how he felt—if my hips were feeling it, his ass must’ve been tender as hell. Mission accomplished. And it was only day one. I wondered if I should go ahead and send apology flowers to his neighbors. Then again, there’d been a dog barking in one unit and a baby crying in another, so I decided we were just one more set of voices in the chorus of Point Heights Apartments and made peace with it.
Beside me in his disheveled bed, Noah closed his eyes and released a long, blissful sigh. “I’ve been needing that so bad.”
“Uh-huh. Same.”
He shifted onto his side and smiled at me. “I cannot believ
e how crazy I’ve been going since you left.”
I grinned, running my hand up his chest. “Well, now that we’re back in bed, I totally get it.”
He chuckled. “Fair point. So I guess the question is . . .” He traced a single fingertip over my hip bone. “Is this a one-time thing? Or do we start signing up for frequent-flyer miles?”
My stomach clenched. This could be a minefield with some guys. And I’d already been the one to suggest meeting up again. Where was the line between horny and clingy? “What do you think?”
“I asked you first.”
“Um. Well.” I hoped like hell this didn’t make things awkward. God knew it could. Tentatively, I said, “I, uh, really wasn’t planning on getting involved with anyone anytime soon, and I don’t care for long-distance relationships, but that ship kind of sailed when we started buying plane tickets, you know?”
Noah laughed. “Yeah. I guess it kinda did.”
Oh thank fuck. “So, you’re not opposed to it?”
He smiled as he touched my face. “The idea is definitely growing on me.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m game to see where it goes. If it turns out we’re long-distance friends with benefits, fine. But I’m . . . open to more if it happens.”
My heart fluttered. “I guess we’ll see how it goes, then, right?”
“Yep. Fair warning, though—I haven’t dated anyone in a while.” He smiled kind of shyly. “I might be, you know, rusty at the whole thing.”
“You can’t be any worse than me.” I paused. “Define ‘a while,’ anyway.”
Noah’s eyes lost focus for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Couple of years, I think. I kinda lost track.”
“You ever been married? Lived with anyone?”
Noah shook his head. “I mean, I had some relationships that lasted a while. Dated my ex for almost three years. But we never lived together. Didn’t even live in the same state most of the time.”
“Wow, that must’ve been hard.”
“Eh, it’s kind of par for the course when you date military guys. One or both of you gets transferred, and . . .” He waved a hand.
“You couldn’t be out until recently either, could you?”