by Hayes, Lane
“Hmph.”
“Still jealous?” Wes teased.
“No, I’m cold. Maybe we should go inside.”
“Jump in the Jacuzzi. It’ll warm you up. I’m going to turn on the lights in the pool house and get a bottle of wine.”
I swam diagonally toward the hot tub and slowly submerged into the water while I watched Wes move around the pool house. He opened the French doors, turned on the huge lantern hanging over a circular table in the entryway then disappeared inside. Classic jazz piped through the speakers just as he reappeared with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a corkscrew. Instant seduction, I mused.
“This is nice.” I sank farther into the warm water while Wes poured the wine. I smiled my thanks when he handed me a glass and waited for him to climb in with me. I chuckled at his over-the-top pained expression as the hot water lapped at his belly button.
“Give me a minute.”
“All right, old man. I will point out that I’m still naked, and though my dick might resemble a walnut at the moment, I’m feeling just fine,” I taunted as I raised my glass to sip my wine.
“Walnuts aren’t sexy.”
“I believe I’ve proven that my parts are in working order. How are yours?” I asked, nudging his crotch with my toes.
Wes caught my foot and then rubbed it against his swimsuit-covered dick with a wicked grin. “Mine are great…and nothing here resembles a walnut, baby.”
I barked a quick laugh and nodded. “Feels much more impressive than just a coupla nuts and a stick.”
“Ha. Ha.” Wes rolled his eyes then batted my foot away and sat on the built-in ledge across from me. I started to make another dick joke but the sudden intensity in his expression stopped me. “How long were you and your business partner lovers?”
I sighed heavily and took another sip. “Two years. But it ended a while ago. Eric’s a newly married man now. I’m happy for him and Zane. They’re good together. The weird thing is, I never saw it coming. Actually, it’s not all that weird. I tend to overlook the obvious when it comes to relationships. But we’ve all been friends since college. I didn’t think they were remotely each other’s type. Let’s just say that between my almost-wedding and their actual wedding, it’s been a strange year.”
“Amen,” he agreed.
“What about you? When was your last so-called or real relationship?”
“Ten years ago.” His expression was neutral but somehow tinged with a hint of sadness.
I swirled the burgundy liquid in my glass and considered him carefully. He looked stoic and fierce in the shadowy light in spite of the fact that he was lounging in a Jacuzzi with water bubbling around him. The contrast of soft and hard, light and dark spoke to me on a base level like a simple equation that was more complex than it seemed. I wanted to figure him out the way he’d said he wanted to do to me. But I also wanted to erase that crease in his brow and make him laugh.
“Name your pick for best disco artist of all-time. Mine is Donna Summer. Hands down.”
Wes grinned. “Okay. Sing your favorite song.”
“Sing it? I’m a terrible singer.”
“I don’t mind,” he said casually as he lifted his glass and took a sip.
“Uh, well…let me think of the words.” I closed my eyes for a moment and thought of the music and lyrics. Then I set my glass aside and made my fist into a microphone and did my best version of Donna Summer’s “On the Radio.”
I didn’t make it through the chorus before Wes was laughing too hard for me to concentrate. Success.
“That was…wow.” His grin was so wide it nearly split his face in two.
“Thank you.” I smiled as I reached for my wineglass and took another sip.
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Hey!” I kicked hard enough to spray water in his face and land in his glass. Wes scowled and set his wine aside. Then he yanked at my foot and pulled me to him. I yelped as I lost my balance and went flying forward, showering wine over both of us.
I blinked wildly and backed up a step to survey the damage in the semi dark. Red wine dripped from Wes’s chin and nose. He narrowed his gaze theatrically then crooked his finger, motioning me forward. When I shook my head, he raised his brow and repeated the gesture until I slowly made my way to stand between his open legs.
“I’d apologize, but it was your fault,” I insisted.
“Maybe. But it’s only polite to clean your mess.”
“Like this?” I bent to lick a drop of wine from his chin, then his cheek and his nose before focusing on his lips. I angled my head and pushed my tongue inside. God, he tasted good. Like grape juice and truth.
We jockeyed for dominance, grasping at each other in an attempt to control the kiss, though we both knew Wes was in command. He was rough and a little wild, and he demanded a like response. I straddled his thighs and raked my fingers through his hair as I pressed my hard cock against his stomach. His erection nudged my balls through the thin layer of his suit. I rocked my hips back and forth to meet that sublime friction as he plundered my mouth, licking and sucking until I was gasping for air.
He chuckled at my wanton expression when he slid his fingers along my crack. Then he flashed a wicked smile with a hint of primal intensity that drew me in like a spellbound kid watching a waking lion. I wanted to open the cage and unleash whatever lay inside even though I instinctively knew I was hopelessly outmatched.
“You like that, baby?” he purred as he tightened his hold around my waist and stood.
I slung my arms over his shoulders, my legs around his ass, and my tongue down his throat in my quest to get as close to him as physically possible. I wanted to crawl inside him and find the answers to every question and unsolved equation in my head. I wanted to consume and be consumed in equal measure.
Wes turned and set me onto the edge of the Jacuzzi. The cool early evening air on my back was a jarring contrast to the hot water and the sexy man hovering over me. Wes reached for my cock and stroked me with a firm grip.
“I—oh, fuck.” I arched my back, holding on to his shoulders as I pumped my hips into his fist. “That feels good.”
“I want to lick you, suck you, and fuck you, Nicky.” His voice was a low rumble I could feel in my chest.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Wes pulled my head back and licked a path down my neck while he worked me over with steady insistent strokes.
“Do it. Fuck me.” I yanked at his swim trunks, stopping to palm him as I ran my tongue over his right tit.
Wes stepped out of his suit in a hurry then stood so his thick flesh was inches from my mouth. No words were necessary. I dove forward and sucked him down greedily. Wes gasped at the sudden attack, but he recovered quickly, guiding me a little lower at each pass until my lips brushed his sac. I angled my head to swallow around his girth while I fondled his balls. He praised my efforts with meaningless nothings that would usually be reduced to static. But not now. Somehow being told I was a good cocksucker with a sweet, hot mouth was the biggest fucking turn-on imaginable. I was practically vibrating when he finally pushed me back.
“Bend over, Nicky. Show me your ass.”
I nodded like a puppet as I spun around and braced my hands on the cement edge of Jacuzzi. I glanced up in confusion when he got out of the water and walked over to the towels he’d brought out earlier.
“Where are you going?” I croaked.
He held up a condom and a small bottle of lube with a cocky grin. “Always a good idea to be prepared.”
If I wasn’t so strung out, I might have laughed at his waggling eyebrows and comical expression. But I couldn’t remember ever feeling this close to spontaneous combustion. If he didn’t hurry the fuck up, I’d be forced to beg. I made a mewling sound instead and buried my head in my arms as I swayed from side to side. He set the supplies next to my elbow and a towel in front of me then stepped in the water. He ran his hand along my spine and over my crack then hooked his finger and n
udged my hole. I moved out of reach and scowled.
“Go easy. It’s been a while.”
“Help me stretch you open.” Wes uncapped the lube and poured some into my hand before moving behind me.
I lifted my leg to get a better angle to finger myself but ended up falling sideways. Wes let out a huff of amusement as he caught me and deftly slipped a digit inside me. I cried out and was immediately silenced by a sharp smack on my ass. The sound echoed obscenely in the darkening skies, adding that unexpected element of naughtiness I loved.
“How does that feel?”
“Good, but…I can’t reach and—”
“Don’t worry. I got this.”
Wes removed his finger and batted mine away before kneeling behind me and spreading my cheeks wide. Then he licked me. I shivered with pleasure and closed my eyes. Fuck, that was hot. He brushed his thumb over my hole a couple of times then did the same thing with his tongue. Over and over. I gyrated backward losing myself in carnal bliss. I heard the rip of a condom wrapper just as he pulled away to replace his tongue with two fingers. It took a minute to adjust to the new sensation, but Wes seemed to know when I was ready for more.
He nudged his sheathed cock at my entrance and gently pushed. I clutched at the towel he’d left in front of me as my muscles tensed.
“Shh. Relax. I’ll go slow. I got you, baby. I got you.”
He kept up his steady stream of reassurances as he inched his way inside me. He didn’t stop until he was buried balls deep. I winced and tried to relax but he was big, and it fucking hurt. I pushed at his thigh and shook my head.
“I can’t.”
“You can. Breathe slowly and concentrate on me. I told you; I’m taking care of you now. You don’t have to do anything.” Wes nuzzled my neck then nipped at my ear playfully.
And then he began to move. Slowly, like he promised, but with bold, sure strokes that made my toes curl. The erotic glide was accompanied with tender caresses along my sides. He rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger while he moved at a languid pace then let one hand drift to stroke my leaking cock. Pleasure built and flooded my senses in time to the gentle lap of water around our knees. Everything he was doing was magic. But after a while, it wasn’t enough.
“Stop. I want to see you.”
When he pulled out, I spun around and kissed him hard before lying on my back on the towel. Wes shook his head and pointed at the chaise lounge closest to us. I scrambled out of the water and flopped onto my back. He smiled at my exuberance but paused to slick more lube on his rigid prick before pushing my thighs wide and plunging inside. He sealed his mouth over mine to muffle my loud groan as he drove into me relentlessly. I held my legs open and lifted my hips to meet him thrust for thrust. He grunted when I pulled his hair and immediately responded by upping the tempo enough to make the teak chaise creak under our body weight.
“Fuck, you feel good, Nicky. Think you can take it a little harder now?”
It took me a moment to process the question. I licked my lips and nodded, though I honestly thought he was already going hard. I was wrong. Wes pushed my legs over his shoulders and leaned in to lick my lips. He rolled his hips experimentally with a naughty grin. And then he let go.
His hips flew double-time to a jungle-like rhythm I knew instinctually. I bit his lips and clawed at his ass, urging him to give me more. Harder. Faster. More. Every word drove him closer to the edge. When his movement faltered, I knew he was almost there. I wedged my hand between us to reach for my cock. Wes beat me to it. The moment he licked his palm and then stroked my shaft, I knew I wouldn’t last. Not with him bucking his hips and looking at me like I was his favorite new dessert. It was too much. The tingle in my spine traveled like lightning through my veins and resulted in an epic explosion.
I came like a fucking fountain. Cum shot up my chest and hit my chin. Wes bent to lick me clean, but he didn’t stop moving until his own release claimed him a moment later. He clung to me while he rode out his orgasm with an intense fit of tremors. When he finally went still, I closed my eyes and hugged him tightly, melting into the feel of his weight and breathing. This was amazing. He was amazing. I never wanted to move again. This was where I was supposed to be.
Then, of course, I ruined the moment by laughing.
In my defense, it was a sort of life-affirming laughter associated with the kind of unexpected rush you get when you free fall on a rollercoaster with your hands high in the air. The kind that makes you say the first thing that comes to your head like…
“I wanna do that again.”
Except I’d never say anything quite that lame. Would I? Wes lifted his head from the crook of my neck and grinned at me.
“Me too, baby. Me too.”
* * *
We spent the rest of the evening sipping wine and dissecting our favorite Twilight Zone and Star Trek reruns while we played five games of chess. When I won the tie-breaking game and declared the match over, he’d chuckled good-naturedly and chided my competitive streak then put me to work chopping cucumbers for a salad while he made spaghetti. He rolled his eyes when I reminded him I had dexterity issues and told me to be careful and cut big slices.
Wes’s no-nonsense, brusque attitude turned me on almost as much as the twinkle in his eyes when he talked about the poetic genius of Rod Serling or Gene Roddenberry. He loved any and all sci-fi, and when he suggested watching a B-movie from the 1950s called Earth vs. the Flying Saucers, I felt a funny tug in my chest I couldn’t blame on the campy special effects or too much pasta. I didn’t know what it meant, but I liked it.
The morning began where the evening left off. He’d groaned his approval when I pushed him onto his stomach and nudged his ass persistently. Then he’d pointed at the lube and wordlessly suggested I get to it. The sex was amazing, but so was Wes. He was smart and funny, and he seemed to appreciate my quirks rather than overlook them.
I loved waking up next to him in his bed. And I loved his house. It was open and airy with high ceilings and rough wood beams at the tallest pitches. Arched French doors lined the living area and dining room as well as the master suite. Pulling back the pale green silk curtains to the majestic view of the sun casting a golden light over the vineyard and then stepping outside to appreciate it with a cup of coffee and a gorgeous lover with sex-mussed hair was…heaven.
So yeah…my weekend had been unexpectedly perfect.
Chapter 8
Balance wasn’t my strong suit. I was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. I’d always limited my extracurricular activities in order to concentrate on work. But after my weekend in Napa, the pendulum began to shift. I spent more and more time with Wes than at the lab where I should have been. I was close to a solution but something was missing, and I couldn’t figure it out. I was at a standstill I was able to ignore because I found someone more interesting to spin over.
Wes was all I could think about. I hadn’t been this attracted to a man since Eric. This felt different. It wasn’t just the thrill of being with a masculine man who was so comfortable and fluid in his sexuality that he moved from giving to receiving without batting an eye. There was something innately calming about him. He was frank about where he’d been, but he knew who he was and what he wanted now. I loved talking to him. It wasn’t unusual for us to spend an hour or more on the phone at the end of the day mulling over political intrigue and working on our all-time top favorite music lists. I forgot about my frustration with my unfinished project and my anxiety about winning the Byzantine deal. I just wanted to be with Wes.
Wes’s weekends were free once harvest season officially came to a close in mid-November. I’d made a couple of jaunts to his home in Napa in between. I arrived late enough to avoid the action in the tasting room and headed straight for Wes’s house. I didn’t want to share him with his employees, customers or Geordie. And I certainly didn’t want to risk getting recruited to pour wine again. I was thrilled when he said he was coming to San Francisco and wanted to take me out
to dinner and movie. Like on a “date.” A real date.
I hadn’t been on a date with a guy in…well, ever. Eric and I didn’t date. We hung out with our friends and pretended nothing was different between us. Dating was reserved for women. It could be fun but most of the time I found it stressful. Six weeks ago, I would have scoffed at the idea of getting dressed up to go out with a guy when what I really wanted was to be naked. But now…I could hardly wait.
Except those plans were jettisoned when I opened my door to the ruggedly handsome man wearing a leather bomber jacket and a mischievous grin. The first time he came to my place, we’d greeted each other with a peck on the cheek. I’d led him up the stairs to my spacious great room with impressive views of the Golden Gate Bridge and tried to control my racing heart while he’d complimented the modern décor and oohed and ahhed over the view. But the second our eyes locked, it was over.
We came together in a wild frenzy, ripping buttons off shirts and knocking over chairs in an effort to get to skin as fast as possible. Then we fell on the floor and fucked on the plush rug like animals. I rested my forehead on his shoulder, gasping for breath, thinking the madness was manifested in stress release and pent-up sexual energy after too much time apart. But it didn’t explain why I couldn’t keep my hands to myself afterward or why I couldn’t seem to look away.
As far as dates went, it was really freaking awesome. It wasn’t dinner and a movie; it was a whole weekend. Every bit of time together felt…special. I loved having him in my space, leaning against the counter while I made bagels or sitting across from me with his elbows on the table, studying the chessboard while I studied him.
When the clouds parted and the rain finally let up, we ventured outside, dodging joggers and dog walkers as we traversed the length of Crissy Field. Eventually, we stopped for coffee and made our way to a park bench overlooking the Bay. I leaned into Wes’s side and let the low timbre of his voice move through me as he made idle conversation about the unusual number of boats out on the water on a cold autumn day.