No Such Thing (The Belonging Series)

by A. M. Arthur

  “Then why are you way over there?”

  Way over there was less than six feet, but they were usually on each other the moment the bedroom door shut. Instead, they were facing off across an expanse of dark blue carpet. “Because I want to ask you for something. To do something.”

  Instead of worried, Alessandro looked immediately intrigued. “Okay.”

  Jaime realized he was biting his lip and quit, only immediately to lick them. He seriously needed to get a grip and just say the words. Alessandro was going to think he was an idiot if he couldn’t even ask for it.

  “What’s up, Jaime? You can ask me anything.”

  “I want to fuck you,” Jaime said in such a rush it sounded like one word.

  Alessandro’s eyebrows went up. Then his entire face softened, his eyes brightened and he grinned. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Yes. Today, um, if that’s okay.”

  He sauntered across the room with a sexy hip-wiggle that Jaime remembered from their night out dancing. “That’s more than okay,” Alessandro said in a voice made entirely of seduction.

  “You know I’ve never done it, so I may completely suck—”

  “Jaime?”

  “What?”

  “Stop overthinking this before we even start. We’ll go a step at a time, and if you ever want to stop and switch back, just tell me.”

  “Okay.” He let out a heavy breath, and some measure of calm came with it. “Okay, great.”

  Kissing was easy. Jaime loved kissing Alessandro, and he made sure to do a thorough job of it while they both shimmied out of their shoes and clothes. Alessandro deliberately bent over to move his briefs out of the way, giving Jaime a fantastic view of his exposed ass. The small glimpse of his anus sent Jaime from “into it” to “must have it now,” and he tried to put all of that into making love to Alessandro’s mouth.

  They tumbled onto the bed together—yet another part still familiar and simple. They kissed and nuzzled and stroked, each exploring places the other liked. The only slight difference was that Alessandro remained somewhat passive, allowing Jaime to lead. He followed Jaime’s cues until he was on his back and Jaime was sucking his cock into the back of his throat. His own dick was hard, his stomach a knot of anticipation and he channeled that nervous energy into pleasing Alessandro.

  “Gotta prep me,” Alessandro panted, looking down his body at Jaime. “It’s been a while.”

  Jaime didn’t want to ask how long a while was, so he reluctantly released Alessandro’s erection and yanked open the nightstand drawer for supplies. He wasn’t usually the one pouring lube on his fingers. He was usually like Alessandro—flat on his back, knees drawn up, offering himself. Seeing Alessandro laid out like that sent a bolt of lust straight through his abdomen.

  Jaime mentally threw out everything he’d ever seen or read about this part of sex, and he focused on what Alessandro always did. He warmed the lube with his fingers, just enough so it wouldn’t make Alessandro jump. He rubbed the pad of his middle finger lightly against Alessandro’s entrance. The simple touch earned a soft, strangled noise that Jaime liked hearing, so he pressed a little harder. Pressed and rubbed until that puckered opening began to yield, and then his finger slid inside gripping heat.

  Alessandro groaned and pressed down. Jaime tried hard to look everywhere at once—to watch his hands and also Alessandro’s face, and he couldn’t manage both. But the glimpses of Alessandro, the hints of bliss in his expression, buoyed his confidence. Jaime worked his finger in and out, mesmerized by the way Alessandro’s body opened for him, pulled him in and seemed to protest his leaving. The muscle around his finger amazed him, energized him, and he couldn’t wait to know what that felt like around his cock.

  “Two,” Alessandro said when his body offered one finger little resistance.

  It took Jaime a moment to manage two, and then the heat and pressure was incredible. His dick wasn’t huge, but it was larger than two fingers, and he didn’t know how this ever actually worked. He understood better why Alessandro had taken such care with him the first time.

  With two fingers inside of Alessandro, Jaime leaned down to suck on the head of his cock. Alessandro gave a little shout and his hands grabbed at the bedspread. Jaime didn’t relent until Alessandro pushed his head away with a huffed, “You’ll make me come.”

  “That’s kind of the point.”

  “I want you in me first. How do you want it?”

  Jaime blinked. Of all the things he’d considered about this, he hadn’t given hard thought to the position. “What do you like?”

  “Hands and knees. Not as intimate, but damn it feels good.”

  “Okay.” Jaime was pretty fond of that one, too. He was reluctant to stop touching Alessandro long enough for them to arrange themselves, as though his courage would magically evaporate without contact. He fumbled the condom just trying to open the wrapper. He’d helped Alessandro put one on several times, but—”I’ve never worn one before.”

  Alessandro smiled at him over his shoulder. “Just make sure you leave a little room at the tip.”

  “Right.”

  Rolling down the condom when he was this hard was agony. He didn’t know how he’d manage to not blow his load before he was actually inside Alessandro. He spread more lube on the condom. Alessandro spread his legs a little more, opening himself up, looking at him the whole time with perfect trust in his eyes. He was beautiful like that.

  Jaime tried to not think about the way his heart was pounding or his insides were rumbling. He focused on lining up the head of his cock with Alessandro’s opening. He focused on maintaining constant, steady pressure, on the soft grunts from Alessandro that both scared and encouraged him. He nearly yelped when the head of his cock popped inside and was immediately squeezed by that perfect, smooth heat.

  Alessandro reached back and grabbed his thigh, pulling him forward, and his dick sank in a little deeper. The hand pushed away, and Jaime slid back out a bit. He picked up on the rhythm, on the signals from Alessandro, and he slowly worked his way deeper on each stroke, until he was thrusting into a grip of perfect heat.

  “Holy crap,” Jaime said. “Oh my God.”

  The sputtering sound Alessandro made might have been laughter. It cut off on a moan when Jaime thrust harder, deeper. He held Alessandro’s hips in his hands, fingers splayed across his stomach, and gave another thrust. He’d never felt anything like it, never imagined it felt so amazing to be the one doing the fucking.

  His orgasm was building too fast. He tried to warn Alessandro, tried to do something to help him find release, too, but then his balls drew up and his mind went white. Electricity coursed through him and he slammed his hips against Alessandro’s ass, burying himself deep as he came.

  He couldn’t move again for a long moment, and even then he had just enough brainpower to hold the condom while he withdrew. He collapsed onto the bed next to Alessandro, boneless and exhausted, but also somehow completely energized. He’d done it. Sure, he hadn’t fucked Alessandro long or particularly well, not like Alessandro probably wanted, but he’d tried. He’d tried and mostly succeeded, if the goofy grin on Alessandro’s face was any indication. A grin that turned to pleasure as he flopped onto his back and jacked himself until he came.

  “Was that okay?” Jaime asked when he found his voice again.

  Alessandro chuckled, a low and sexy sound. “It was fantastic.”

  “We didn’t go very long.”

  “It was your first time. It happens. Next time will be better.”

  Jaime both wanted and feared a next time topping. “Maybe some time.”

  Alessandro turned his head to study him, his dark eyes curious and still oddly aroused. “Not a fan?”

  “Oh no, I really liked it.” He rolled again so he could face Alessandro. “I think I like being the one getting fucked best, though.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. I’m pretty fond of fucking you anyway.”

  “Good, because you’re fabulous
at it. Be right back.” As the one doing the topping, Jaime went to dispose of the condom and returned with a damp washcloth for Alessandro. After they cleaned up, they tangled back up together in bed, ending with Jaime’s head resting over Alessandro’s heart.

  “So I guess that’s another box checked off the gay-sex-education worksheet,” Alessandro said.

  Jaime laughed and traced swirly shapes over Alessandro’s abs with his fingertip. “Guess so.”

  “How long have you been thinking about doing that?”

  “Since Saturday.”

  “Because of Ezra?”

  “Kind of.” Jaime liked that they could talk about this stuff afterward, because it was too hard to say in the moment.

  “Not everyone is a switch, babe. Some people would rather only top or only bottom. It’s perfectly fine to like one more than the other.”

  “Do you?”

  “No. Mostly depends on my mood. Now someone like Ezra? He’s only a top.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yup.” Alessandro’s fingers skated down his shoulder and circled back up in a lazy motion that threatened to send Jaime to sleep. “Romy? Total bottom.”

  “Huh.” He kind of got that vibe from Romy last weekend, and it made him wonder what sort of vibe he’d been sending to the other men in the bar. Or if they’d looked at him with open curiosity because he’d been so unreadable, so unsure of himself and his own preferences. He was pretty sure he preferred to bottom. As he lay in Alessandro’s arms, he missed the familiar ache in his ass after a good fucking—the reminder that Alessandro had been there, inside him, pushing them both to orgasm.

  The heart beating under his ear increased so subtly he would have missed it if one of them was talking, but Jaime noticed. He raised his head. Alessandro was staring at the ceiling, an odd expression on his face. Confusion, maybe, or worry. Jaime couldn’t place it, and then Alessandro blinked and looked down at him. Smiled.

  “What’s up?” Jaime asked.

  The smile flickered. “Nothing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Something in his eyes said no, he wasn’t sure. “It’s nothing to do with us. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it right now.”

  “But you are. Want to talk about it?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Okay.”

  Except it wasn’t okay. They’d talked about so much, shared so much, that to see Alessandro unwilling to discuss something that was bothering him kind of hurt. No, it did hurt. And in its own way, drove home the point that this was all about instruction for Alessandro. He was helping Jaime experience things. He didn’t want a deep, meaningful relationship. Even after everything they’d shared, he wanted them to be casual boyfriends who had amazing sex without strings. Jaime smashed back all of the tender feelings for Alessandro that he’d allowed to surface. Those feelings would get him hurt even more in the long run.

  Now that his seduction was over, Jaime wanted to be alone to process things. He couldn’t do it when he was lying in Alessandro’s arms feeling like they were ten miles apart. He slid up to kiss Alessandro, putting both a thank you and a goodbye into it.

  “I should go.”

  Alessandro glanced at the alarm clock. They still had an hour before the bus arrived, but he didn’t say anything. “All right.”

  Jaime dressed methodically, careful to not rush when he just wanted to get the hell out of there. When he finally sat down to tie his shoes, Alessandro slid up behind him and ran fingers through his hair.

  “Are you mad?”

  “Why would I be mad? This is just fucking, right? We aren’t required to share everything that’s bothering us.”

  “Jaime—”

  “Forget it. I’m not mad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Alessandro didn’t look like he believed him. He didn’t argue, though. Jaime left, and for the first time since they began their afternoon hookups, he understood where the term “walk of shame” had come from.

  * * *

  “You are so fucked, Silva.”

  Alessandro glared at his bedroom ceiling, stomach in knots, as frustrated as he’d ever been. Everything had been so great between them for a little while. He’d been insanely turned on when Jaime wanted to fuck him. Despite a little initial clumsiness, it had been fantastic. Way better than his own first time topping had gone. Jaime had been an adorable mix of confident and terrified, and Alessandro had been so wonderfully content afterward, body aching with the memory of Jaime inside him.

  He wanted to keep Jaime and protect him. And then Alessandro’s traitorous brain had circled to Justin and those nebulous threats. Jaime had noticed. Alessandro brushed off his concern, and he’d seen the flash of hurt in Jaime’s eyes. Jaime wasn’t good at hiding his emotions; it was one of the traits that made him so damned appealing. That hurt stabbed him in the heart like a needle.

  And Jaime couldn’t leave fast enough.

  Alessandro almost chased him down and explained. He couldn’t do that, though, without telling Jaime what he’d ignored and why all those years ago, and he wasn’t ready to see that in Jaime’s eyes. He wasn’t ready to see the hurt and anger and disgust, and he wasn’t ready to lose Jaime. He’d have to let him go eventually. That had always been the plan.

  “Not yet. Please just a little longer.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alessandro stared at the colorful rows of children’s cold medicine products, lost as to what to buy. Molly was coughing a lot, yes, but Eunice also said she had a fever and runny nose. The symptoms had come on quickly after dinner that night, and by bedtime Molly was miserable. Hence Alessandro’s quick trip to the pharmacy.

  He picked up a bottle of green syrup and read the treated symptoms. Was she congested, too? He wasn’t sure. She didn’t have a sore throat.

  Why were there so many choices?

  “You look really confused,” a female voice said.

  He glanced up from the bottle array and into a startlingly familiar face. He blinked hard, sure he was imagining her. She did a double take, too, eyes going wide.

  “Oh my God, Alessandro?”

  “Brittney.”

  Her hair was shorter, her makeup heavier, her shape a little rounder, but Brittney Mattson was very much standing with him in the cold medicine aisle at Walgreens. He hadn’t seen her since senior year. She hadn’t attended graduation and the reason for that was standing behind her, clutching a blue shopping basket with both hands. The five-year-old boy had his mother’s hair color, but everything else about him resembled someone else.

  Alessandro swallowed hard against the sudden need to vomit.

  “I didn’t know you were back in town,” Brittney said. She watched him warily now. She remembered the wild asshole he’d been in school and had no reason to think he’d changed. “Oh, wait. I’m sorry about Mr. Deforio.”

  “Thanks. I’m helping Eunice with the kids for a while.”

  “Oh. This is my son Kyle. Honey, this is Alessandro. Mommy went to school with him a long time ago.”

  Alessandro squatted down to shake Kyle’s midget hand, surprised by the kid’s steady grip. He watched from his mother’s side, intent and curious. Something about the boy was so damn familiar and Alessandro’s long-ago promise to someone he hated charged to the forefront of his memory, along with other recollections. When Brittney had gotten pregnant senior year she’d refused to name the father, and it had earned her a horrible reputation, hence her skipping graduation.

  “Someone sick?” Brittney asked.

  “Yeah.” He glared at the medicine as he stood back up. “They make way too many choices.”

  He described Molly’s symptoms. Brittney helped him pick one of the syrups, as well as a bottle of Children’s Tylenol for the fever. They didn’t talk about themselves, didn’t ask each other questions the way old friends would. She seemed just as uncomfortable as he was.

  “Thank you for this,” he said. “I’d have been here for hours.”

&nbs
p; “You can always ask the pharmacist for advice, you know.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, well, Kyle and I need to get home. Take care, Alessandro.”

  “You, too.”

  He watched her turn down the next aisle and disappear. He exhaled deeply, his pulse racing all over the place now that the moment had passed. Kyle was a cute kid, but damn if he didn’t look a lot like Justin Maddox. Only Justin and Brittney never dated. They didn’t move in the same social circles. Brittney was poor and Justin had money, and those worlds didn’t mix. And he was positive Justin’s name never surfaced in any of the serious father rumors.

  “A hundred bucks and you never saw me or my truck on this road tonight.”

  His guts twisted into icy knots.

  One Saturday night a month before senior prom, Alessandro had been riding his bike home from his weekend job at Sol’s Pizza and he got a flat. He’d had to walk the bike all the way home, which took close to two hours. In that time, Justin had driven by him twice, going in two different directions. The first time he had a female passenger. The second time, he’d stopped, offered to give Alessandro and his bike a lift home and then handed him the cash once they got to the house.

  “You never saw me.”

  He’d taken the money. He had no reason not to take it, or to tell anyone he’d seen Justin that night. He spent the money, studied just enough to make sure he graduated, and didn’t think hard about the passenger in Justin’s truck until the rumors about Brittney’s pregnancy started. Whoever that passenger was, she’d been slumped against the passenger window, drunk or passed out he didn’t know. He hadn’t cared.

  But damn if Kyle didn’t look a lot like Justin.

  Justin’s threats to keep his mouth shut about the past started making a lot more sense. Alessandro managed to pay for the medicine and get out to his car before he started shaking. He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel, breathing hard, terrified he was about to hyperventilate. No, he was just making guesses here. He needed answers before he made himself crazy with wild theories.