“Let me kiss you properly,” I said, flashing my most devilish smile. “As a thank you for helping me practice.”
“Oh, is that what it’s all about?” Charles asked with a sassy eyebrow raise. “You thanking me?”
“Uh-huh. I mean, whoever my partner turns out to be probably won’t be as fly as you, but I feel less like I’m gonna screw up when I demo it tomorrow.”
Charles was nodding slowly, eyelids lowering as he studied me. He’d relaxed against my body, one arm around my waist and the other draped over my shoulder. “Why don’t you know who your partner will be?”
“’Cause my usual partner is moving away.” I kissed Charles again, this time at the corner of his mouth. “So, it could be anyone from a fat booty twink who is used to twerking at the club to someone who dances professionally. We get all kinds.” I dragged his lower lip into my mouth and sucked for a moment before releasing it. His hips jutted against mine, and I groaned. “Too bad it’s not you. You’d make me look so good up there.”
“You look good on your own,” he said, voice huskier than it’d been a moment ago. “Maybe you could just make it a solo dance. Punch Drunk Louie becoming Out and Proud Louie instead of it being a whole queer-for-you seduction dance.”
“Because it’s meant to be with a partner.” I backed him against the wall, moving slow and careful, and giving him ample time to escape me. “Why? Don’t want anyone else seducing me but you?”
Something flashed across his face as I pressed him to the wall. A brief narrowing of his eyes, and a hint of a frown that looked a little too much like dismay. Which, no. No no no. We weren’t having that shit tonight. There were times when I realized I needed to watch my mouth when it came to Charles, or he’d haul ass away from me like I was on fire and he couldn’t be assed to put me out. Now was one of those times. I could already feel him retreating.
“Let me thank you,” I said again, pitching my voice lower. “Come on, papi.”
His fingers clenched and released, over and over again before answering. “How?”
“However you want. No strings. No nothing.” I grinned and held his serious gaze. “Just me showing you how I express my gratitude when someone comes through for me.”
Charles’ breath came faster, blowing across my sweaty face as his heart beat against my chest. “You’re a good kisser for such a cocky asshole. We could leave it at that.”
“But then my superior kissing skills will get you all worked up, and you’ll go home with blue balls.” I stuck out my lower lip, feigning a mournful expression. “Pobrecito…”
The remoteness fled his expression. Charles smiled with another of his big eyerolls. “You’re an idiot,” he said, turning away from me.
“But am I lying?” I pressed my front to his back and jerked his hips back against my crotch. “I love your mouth, but I can also get you off so you don’t have to do it all by yourself every night.”
Charles went still. “You…can…”
“Hear you?” Oh fuck, could I. It had been breezy and cool enough to leave the windows open after our heatwave, and since his bedroom was right above mine, the low sound of his urgent moans would sometimes float down and into my own bedroom. “Sometimes I get off to the sound of you coming. Is that creepy?”
“Um. No.” Another thing I loved about Charles? He was so honest. “That’s fucking hot.”
“You sound fucking hot when you nut,” I rumbled in his ear, hand stealing down to brush over his crotch. His dick was practically trying to burst through his tights. “Do you jerk off, baby? Or play with your ass?”
Charles moaned so loud it sounded closer to the way he cried out when he came. I practically growled in his ear, humping his ass with serious intent.
“You’re evil,” Charles gasped. “I thought we were both fine with the teasing and flirting?”
“I am, but tell me anyway,” I pleaded. “I’m so fucking horny. Throw a dude a bone.”
He turned his face, probably to speak, but I licked at his mouth in a fit of keen desperation. Charles moaned again, and wound an arm back so he could grip my head and keep my face against his. We kissed with the same hungry swiping of tongues and clashing of lips and teeth as our first frantic make-out in the basement. There was no rhyme or reason to this kind of sloppy hunger, and there was no more thinking or talking or cajoling. There was only his ass grinding back on my dick, and then me jerking him through his tights.
“Oh God, yes.” Charles’ hesitance slid away, dripping down to the floor like the sweat we’d rained on it earlier. He was simultaneously licking at me frantically, grinding back on my cock, and wiggling his hips so I could get his tights down. “Grab it.”
“Hell yeah.” I trailed kisses down his cheek then widened my stance so I could support him with both hands dropped down to play with him. “Tell me what you want.”
“Just touch me,” he breathed. “It’s been so long.”
“How long?”
Charles shuddered as I gripped the base of his dick. He bucked into it, not doing a thing to tamp down on his dangerously sexy pleading sounds. “Like almost a year.”
“Fuuuck…” I started jerking him in earnest. My gut coiled at the feel of his throbbing dick and the precum gathering at his tip. I’d give anything to suck him off. To watch him fall apart while he came down my throat. “You been missing this, baby? Having someone take good care of you?”
Charles nodded, but his eyes were closed and I doubted he even knew what the fuck I was saying. I was jerking him with purpose, not teasing or drawing it out. He needed to come to someone else’s hand, and I was gonna give him that. Judging by his trembling knees and sharply keening cries, it was gonna happen really soon.
“What else do you miss?” I whispered in his ear.
“I don’t know,” he breathed.
“Since what?”
“Since…” Charles arched his back and shoved his hips against my hand. “Oh fuck, don’t stop. I’m right there.” His voice filled the apartment, probably spilling out the open windows like it usually did.
“Tell me,” I urged, pumping him faster.
“It’s been so long since someone fucked me who actually wanted me,” he gasped.
My body went cold even as he went bowstring tight. He cried out, hoarse and surprised, right before he spilled all over my hand. He closed his eyes and laughed breathlessly, a dreamy smile on his face. I wondered how long it would last before he remembered what he’d just revealed to me.
North Shore ch 13
Chapter Thirteen
Charles
Orgasms turned me to lead. It was the only explanation for the sluggishness I experienced after blowing my load. That sluggishness was the primary reason I wasn’t squirming away from Luis and making a break for the door after my pathetic admission.
Maybe he hadn’t noticed.
His hand slid away, fingers dragging along my length. Another shudder went through me, but I managed to stand up straight without a stagger. I told myself it was my amazing skills at performance arts that allowed me to keep the pleased smile on my face, but in reality it was desperation to keep this thing between us normal. And easy.
“Well…” I tossed my hair out of my eyes and turned to face him. Luis was still slumped against the wall, his head tilted back and dark brown eyes heavy lidded. “That was definitely one of the better shows of gratitude I’ve ever received. Congrats on you’re A plus hand job skills.”
Luis nodded slowly, still gazing at me from beneath the wreath of his lashes. His dick wasn’t as hard as it had been only a moment ago, and for some reason his lack of arousal sent panic racing up my spine. Not only that, but the look on his face. Serious. So serious. And he was studying me like he was trying to figure me out. Since our first fucked up meeting, I’d never seen him still or eerily silent like this. Not even when I’d cursed him to hell after finding him in bed with Landon.
The urge to flee heightened. I needed to be away from the silence and
that steadily watchful gaze. I took a step back, smile fading, but he snapped out a hand to grab my wrist. Defensiveness surged through me, and I yanked my arm away with a snarl. The fact that he snorted out a laugh was the only thing that kept my feet rooted to the floor.
“You the only motherfucker who can be two secs off decking me in the face while your jizz is still all over my hand.”
I looked down and saw the evidence on his fingers. Forget his laugh. The absurdity of the entire situation grounded me in this reality and not the horror movie my fucked up brain was trying to produce over a flicker of an expression. My mouth twitched, and I couldn’t fight the hysterical laugh welling in my own throat.
“I’m a fucking disaster, Luis.”
“Nah, you’re cool.” Luis wiggled his eyebrows and proceeded to lick my cum off his fingers. “Taste good too.”
“Ugh, you’re so fucking dirty. It’s like my kryptonite.”
“Yeah?” He winked. “Then let me fuck you.”
“Uh. No.” He stuck his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, and I yanked him in for a quick kiss. “I’m pretty cool with this weird time warp back to being a teenager who makes out in laundry rooms and gives random handjobs.”
“You didn’t give me shit,” Luis reminded me. “You busted in my hand then tried to stab me.”
Another laugh bubbled out of me. I pressed my face into his neck, trying to control myself, but laughed even harder. It didn’t help that he started rubbing my back like he was soothing a baby.
“You’re such a dumbass,” I gasped. “God. I swear. Only your silly ass self can get me snapping back from a freakout with barely any effort at all.”
“Part of my charm.”
He kept rubbing my back, palm steady between my shoulders. I relaxed against him until our half-assed embrace turned to a full-on hug, with my arms wrapped around his neck and his around my waist. I almost forgot why I’d panicked. It all seemed ridiculous now. Why would my lack of self-esteem freak him out if seeing me screaming and crying and breaking my own shit hadn’t?
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “Really. I ruined it and literally turned you off.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But I kinda expect that shit at this point.”
I bit the side of his ear and smirked when he groaned softly. “Really, though. I’m just… Weird. I get freaked out easily, and I try to hide it so I don’t scare everyone away. But shit just pisses me off, and I want to run before people can tell I’m mad. As you know, it’s not pretty once I lose my temper.”
“I get you, but let me ask you a question.” Luis tilted my chin up and gave me one of his adorably inquisitive sideways glances. “What made you mad?”
“The way you were looking at me.”
Luis said nothing, and I bit the inside of my cheek. I sounded like a basketcase. He knew it, I knew it, and I kept expecting him to say it, but he didn’t. He watched me and played with my hair, probably wondering why he was wasting time on some pain-in-the-ass like me when there was probably easy ass and pussy being thrown at him after every performance.
A sizzle of fire scorched through my veins, and I recognized that burn as jealousy.
“I got mad at myself,” I said. “About admitting nobody has wanted me. I’ve been trying to keep this whole thing light and easy instead of dragging it back to my drama shit, but it’s hard. Ninety percent of my brain is constantly focused on emo drama shit, and it’s easy to say too much around you. So I got mad.”
“At me?”
“No. Not really.” I shrugged and eased away from him. “Go wash your hands, cum-fingers.”
“I licked it off.”
He laughed at my withering stare at pushed away from the wall to go to the bathroom. I followed, checking out the tattooed stretch of his back and the shape of his ass beneath his sweats.
“All right, well, now that it’s established that it’s okay for you to drop some random drama emo shit—your words, not mine—can I ask about what you meant?” Luis shut off the water after scrubbing his hands, and leaned against the sink. It reminded me of that first day we met, and the way he’d held me as I’d cried. “Were you talking about the cruise or even with Landon?”
“Even with Landon.” Why was it so embarrassing to admit this? Because I’d known all along and stayed anyway? Another lingering sense of I have to make this work. I’ve wasted so much time trying that it just has to? “He’d been fucking other people for ages. I suspected it but never had proof. What first tipped me off is that he’d stopped wanting to touch me or be close to me unless we’d just had it out and the adrenaline had pumped blood into his dick.”
Luis’ head jerked back, and a sneer marred his face. “He didn’t fuck you unless it was after a fight?”
“Correct.”
“Yo. I’m just saying right now? If I ever catch that dude around here again, I’m fucking him up.”
How messed up was is that his promise had me grinning? Pretty messed up, I bet. But still so goddamn pleasing. “No, you’re not.”
“Oh yes I fucking am.”
“You’re a professional box—”
“Former amateur boxer,” Luis corrected. “My fists aren’t registered as a threat to anything but your dick.”
“Wow.” I was laughing again, so loud the people down the block could probably hear my guffaw. “I swear to God, you’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it. But for real. He’s getting fucked up. I’ve been pretty tight lipped about him because it’s none of my business, and I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it but…” Luis’ gorgeous face became a hardened mask, dark brown eyes shooting sparks and mouth twisted down. I imagined this was what he’d looked like in the ring. It would have been intimidating if I didn’t know how kind and sweet he was beneath the layers of tough guy arrogance. “Regardless of whether you gave as good as you got, he had no fucking business putting his hands on you. But I’ve met dudes like him before. Motherfuckers who think they can hit another guy and it doesn’t count as abusive.”
“Did someone…”
“Not me.” Luis kissed my forehead. “But I’ve met more than one dancer who showed up bruised because of a jealous boyfriend who doesn’t like them dancing.”
“I bet those boyfriends don’t mind spending the money, though,” I said bitterly. “Landon was that way. He hated that I was barely home, but he never worked and spent all my money.”
“He never worked?”
“Well… He did ‘freelance’ writing for random blogs, as if anyone needs his white boy hot takes on the Internet, and barely made any money. I’m all about pursuing your passions but if all the burden falls on one person while you’re out chasing a dream, that’s just selfish. I think he knew I felt that way, so he started selling pills on the side to make some pocket money but he still didn’t contribute to the bills or rent.”
“Why—” Luis shook his head. “No. Let me just stop.”
“What? Just say it.”
He exhaled through his nose. “I just keep wondering why you were with him. What you saw in him. But I don’t want to sound patronizing.”
“You’re not. After everything, it makes sense to ask.” I shook my head, full of scorn for myself, and stepped over the side of the tub so I could sit down. Luis glanced at the door, probably wondering what was wrong with the perfectly good living room or kitchen that possessed actual chairs, but wound up sitting in the tub across from me. “So, when I met Landon, he was a writer and I was a dancer, and I thought that meant we were both creatives who would understand each other. We were sexually compatible too, so it helped. And because I was desperate, I fell so fucking hard for him. That he was possessive as hell just… made me think he really loved me.”
Luis put a hand on my knee and stroked it while watching me intently.
“Anyway, it took a while for me to realize that what I thought was love and him being protective, was him being controlling and manipulative. He didn’t want me around anyone else, b
ecause I think he was worried I’d find someone who treats me better and leave him, which meant he lost his cash cow. Or that other people would see our relationship for what it was and like… advise me to leave him. Which is why he hated all my friends.” I leaned against the cool tiles, extending my legs so they were up over his bent knees. When he slid his hands over my thighs, I closed my eyes and kept talking. “I didn’t realize any of this shit until we were deep in it,” I said quietly. “And even then I just… I don’t know. I didn’t want to believe yet another person didn’t really give a fuck about me. Or that I as being used. I didn’t want to believe I was stupid enough to let someone use me.”
“You’re not stupid. He’s just a fucking snake.”
“Yeah…”
Luis gripped my knees. “When did he first hit you?”
“The first time we fought, I hit him first.” My sigh filled the bathroom, and I avoided looking at him. “We got into this horrible argument. He was telling me my friends only came to hang out at the bar with me so I could give them free drinks. Making me doubt them and myself. The usual. But he was being worse than usual about it, I think because he’d just met Michael in person for the first time, and he was super threatened by this gorgeous gay teacher who was kind to me. Like, Michael wasn’t fucking into me. We were just friends, but it didn’t matter to Landon. He needed me to distrust everyone but him, so he kept driving the point home that I was an idiot who doesn’t see how people just use me. I started got angry and started crying, and he laughed at me.”
Luis’ breath hissed out. “I’d have flipped.”
“I did,” I said with a dark laugh. “I smacked him in the face, and he smacked me back hard enough to make me see stars. We tussled a little, and somehow wound up… fucking. Thinking back, it’s really twisted. Like so twisted. And it kept happening. He’d try to trigger me into snapping because he knew how to push my buttons, or we’d argue and he thought he had free reign to grab me or shove me or whatever. But the first time we had a really bad fight was when me and Caleb got close.”
North Shore Page 14