Why We Fight (At First Sight Book 4)

by TJ Klune

  But then I was distracted when the group from the leather bar began to dance along too, and it took me a second to realize this was the stupidest and most wonderful thing in the world: a goddamn flash mob.

  It was… well. Coordinated. Mostly. They’d obviously practiced at least a few times, but no one was exactly a professional dancer. Even Charlie and Robert were moving, though a bit slower than the others, and Charlie was scowling at everyone. I gasped as confetti cannons blasted off, shooting rainbow streams across the dancing group.

  And as the beat picked up, the leather men parted, and there, in all his ludicrous glory, was Jeremy Olsen.

  He… still couldn’t dance. Like, at all. I’d seen a couple of his moves at Phoenix House and again at Jack It, and the best thing that I could say was that he looked like he was auditioning for the lead role in a movie about a college professor/leather zaddy who was in the throes of having the demon within him exorcised.

  I was completely and utterly gone on him.

  Especially when I could see him frowning in concentration with each of the choreographed moves, mouthing along with the words as he tried to keep up with everyone else. And it was while he was mouthing about being addicted to me, but he knew I was toxic, that I realized this probably wasn’t the most romantic song in the entire world.

  But fuck, I didn’t give a shit.

  I laughed until I had tears in my eyes when he moved forward, throwing his hands in the air as everyone gathered behind him, dancing toward me. I could barely breathe when they all started snapping.

  And then I couldn’t breathe for other reasons.

  Because as the song came to an end, Jeremy was panting heavily, sweat dripping from his brow. But that didn’t stop him from marching up to me.

  And because I was a human train wreck, I blurted. “Are you fucking proposing to me? Because as sweet as that is, I really think we need to date first—”

  His eyes bulged. “Proposing? No, I’m not proposing! What the hell! Why would you even—”

  “Oh, don’t you start with me! I’m not the one who just performed in a fucking flash mob—”

  “And so that automatically means a proposal—”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know what the hell is going on! You’re the one—”

  “Jesus Christ, you think I would—”

  “Then what are you doing? Because it looks like—”

  “I’m fucking trying to tell you that I love you!” he shouted.

  Have you ever been standing in the middle of a Pride parade after having just witnessed a flash mob dancing to Britney Spears and then a man in leather tells you he loves you for the first time?

  Me neither.

  So I sniffed and said, “Oh. That makes more sense than the proposal thing.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Probably.”

  “Song choice could use some work. You know. Since you meant certain overtures.”

  “That was all Paul. Any other critiques you’d like to give?”

  “Ah, no.” I squinted at him. “So. You love me, huh?”

  “I might be starting to question that right now,” he threatened.

  “Well. Don’t.”

  He took a step toward me. “No?”

  I shook my head. “No.” My throat felt tight, but I pushed through it. “I don’t want you to question that. Ever.”

  “Yeah?” he said, and he was right in front of me. “Why is that?”

  And the reason we fight for all we believe in was for a moment like this: when I could stand in the middle of a street, surrounded by friends and family and strangers alike, and say to the dork in front of me, “Because I love you too.”

  I felt his smile more than I saw it, because I was being kissed within an inch of my life. It was hot and wet, mostly because he was sweating profusely, but I didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up. And as my feet left the ground, as I kissed him with everything I had, the crowd exploding around us, I thought that maybe the future wasn’t so scary after all.

  “YOU’RE SO fucking stupid,” I gasped as he shoved me against the front door of his house and attacked my neck. “Like, you have no idea.”

  “Like, totally,” he muttered before biting sharply near my throat.

  “I mean, you won’t hear me complaining—”

  “You’ve done nothing but—”

  I gripped his hair and pulled his head back. His pupils were blown wide, and his lips were wet and shiny. “I am trying to show you my appreciation.”

  “And I am trying to seduce you—”

  “Seduce. Oh my god, you’re so fucking stupid. Why did you stop?”

  He growled at me and reached behind me to shove the key into the lock. I helped by sucking on his ear. He groaned and arched against me. Those leather pants weren’t doing much to hide his excitement. To be fair, we’d both been keyed up for the past couple of hours, looking for an excuse to escape being proud with our community and get right to the important thing.

  The boning.

  It eventually came to a head when Robert looked at both of us and said it would be best if we left because he didn’t want to see the look his son was giving me ever again.

  Jeremy was horrified.

  But since we were given an out, I took it, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from our friends and family, telling them it would be best if no one bothered us for at least six hours. Helena called after me that I was being stunningly optimistic, which was probably true. I thought I was going to explode.

  Jeremy didn’t think much of my idea of pulling behind a McDonald’s so we could get this show on the road. I told him that Darren had eaten Sandy’s ass for the first time next to a dumpster, so if it was good enough for them, it was good enough for me.

  I will never forget the look on his face.

  Let’s just say he wasn’t very impressed.

  I told him to get off his high horse because I was about to get all up on that.

  No, it wasn’t one of my proudest moments.

  Whatever.

  Somehow we made it home safely, even though Jeremy accused me of trying to kill us both, seeing as how my hand was firmly resting on his dick the entire ride. I pointed out that I’d made the magnanimous offer of road head, but he’d declined. After all, I said, what’s the point of a slut machine if you didn’t actually do anything slutty in it?

  So it was his fault when he finally managed to open the door. The fact that he had me pressed against it apparently never crossed his mind. And when the door opened, there was nothing left holding me up.

  And since one should never fall alone, I made sure to hold on to him tightly.

  He weighed more than he looked. Or at least that’s how it felt when he collapsed on top of me, causing me to wheeze.

  “You’re the worst,” I managed to say. “Seriously.

  He sighed and put his forehead on the floor near my right ear. “I swear this isn’t the first time I’ve ever done this.”

  “Oh, gee. Thanks for talking about other people you’ve fucked when you’re trying to seduce me. So romantic.” I tilted my head back. “Huh. I’ve never been to your house before. It’s nice.”

  “Shut up,” he snarled at me. He pushed himself up off the floor. He grabbed my arm and jerked me up.

  “No, I’m being serious! Love what you guys have done with the place. Oooh, you have hardwood flooring? I’ve been trying to convince Sandy to get rid of the carpet at our house—hey! You’re not going to even give me a tour? What kind of host are you?”

  “This is the living room,” he snapped over his shoulder as he dragged me through the house. “That’s the kitchen. That’s a closet. That’s the bathroom. See that door at the end of the hall? That’s my dad’s room.”

  “I can’t appreciate anything if you don’t let me look at it! Christ, the hardwood goes throughout the entire house? That’s—”

  “I’m trying to show you my hard wood, so if you don’t mind, I’d li
ke to get on with it.”

  I burst out laughing. “Yeah, I changed my mind. This is over.”

  He scowled at me as he stopped in front of a closed door. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Oh, it is,” I assured him. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

  “I’m not flustered.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Sure you’re not. I’m flustered, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. I’m really attractive.”

  “You have a feather sticking out of your hair.”

  I reached up and pulled it out. “Underage teenagers made it for me. Now, how about we do the sex?”

  He looked up at the ceiling as if praying for strength. Since he didn’t seem to be inclined to do it on his own, I pushed open the door.

  His room was bigger than I expected. There was a large bed that I hoped was ready to have its springs tested. A chest sat at the footboard on top of a gray rug. A large set of windows looked out to the backyard that had a patio with a table and chairs—

  “Okay,” I announced. “That’s enough of that.”

  He frowned at me. “That’s enough of what?”

  “Never mind. Take off your pants!”

  He squawked loudly when I tackled him again, wrapping my legs around his waist. He staggered backward a couple of steps but stayed upright. His hands came down to my ass, holding me up as I kissed him while trying to undo his tie. I mostly made a mess of it (both the kissing and the tie), and he started laughing against my mouth. “Why did you have to wear all of this?” I muttered while he kissed my cheek and forehead. “Especially if you knew we were going to be doing this later.”

  “I’ll remember to dress accordingly for sex in the future,” he promised, and I really liked the sound of that.

  “See that you do. Off. Off!”

  He threw me down on his bed, my legs hanging off the edge. I bounced up and down as I watched him pull off his tie. My mouth went dry as he started unbuttoning the leather dress shirt. The hair on his chest and stomach was slick with sweat, and that absolutely was not a problem for me. And the motherfucker knew it, because he arched an eyebrow at me as he proceeded to strip slowly, sliding his shirt off his shoulders, the muscles in his chest and arms flexing as he dropped it to the floor.

  “This is a good day,” I breathed.

  He snorted as he crawled over me, knees near my hips, hands on either side of my head. He looked down at me, gaze heated. I reached up and ran my fingers through his beard, wondering how good that burn was going to feel when he rubbed it against my skin.

  His expression softened. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “You good?”

  “So good.”

  “You up for this?”

  “In more ways than one.”

  He hung his head. “Yeah, I get the hard wood thing now.”

  “I’m glad. It was terrible of you to say. You should be ashamed.”

  Chances are I would have kept on going (who the fuck knew laughter during sex was quite possibly the greatest thing in the world?), but he leaned down and kissed me again, swiping his tongue against my lips. I groaned as I opened my mouth to him. I started to wrap my arms around him, but he grabbed me by my wrists, pressing them down above my head against the bed. He was stronger than I expected.

  And I was just fine with that.

  I managed to kick off my shoes without kneeing him in the balls while he licked the side of my neck. I squirmed underneath him, trying to pull away and get closer all at once. I gasped when he bit down again, and there was a dirty, nasty part of me that hoped his teeth would leave an impression that would last for days.

  My eyes rolled back into my head as he reached between us, gripping me through my jeans. I rocked against his hand as he squeezed hard.

  “Fuck,” I grunted. “Less clothing. Less clothing!”

  He took that to heart as he let go of my dick and lifted my shirt up to my armpits. I couldn’t get it all the way off because he was still holding my wrists in place. He proved to be quite flexible (I loved learning new things about him!) as he bent over and licked up my stomach to my chest and nipples. He rolled one gently through his teeth before pulling back and blowing on the wet skin. I writhed underneath him, suddenly at a loss for words but needing more.

  And then his weight was off me, my hands free as he slid off the side of the bed to his knees on the floor. I lifted my head to look down as his hands went to the front of my jeans. He hesitated before he unbuttoned them. “Still good?”

  I was touched. No one had kept asking me that before, and while I thought it would have been irritating, it really wasn’t. There were certain boundaries in place, but we were good now. I nodded furiously. “Still good. The best, even.”

  He grinned. “I’m going to suck you off now.”

  I was probably going to keep him forever. “I approve of this plan.”

  He unbuttoned my jeans. I lifted my hips as he pulled them partway down to my thighs. He laughed at my underwear (rainbow printed), but before I could retort, he pulled them down too. My cock slapped against my stomach as he lifted my balls, settling the waistband of my underwear underneath them. That created an almost unbearable pressure, and I reveled in it.

  I watched with wide eyes as he licked up the underside of my dick, tongue flicking just underneath the head. I groaned as he swallowed me down expertly, though he wasn’t able to get all the way down before he started choking. That didn’t deter him, though, as he redoubled his efforts.

  I groaned as he tugged on my balls, throat working around me. He looked up at me with hooded eyes, something I’d only ever seen in porn. I’d always thought it ridiculous, but now that it was happening to me, I couldn’t for the life of me think why. His cheeks hollowed as he worked me over, his beard rubbing against my nuts.

  “This,” I managed to say, “is going to be over real soon. I’m sorry about that. If we were going to move on to—what the fuck!”

  He pushed against my legs, raising them up and over me, folding me in half. My legs were still trapped in my jeans. He pushed up against my underwear, exposing my ass. I knew what he was about to do before he did it, but I still cried out as he slapped two fingers against my asshole before pushing my cheeks apart, exposing me. For a brief moment I felt his hot breath against my skin before his tongue brushed over my hole. And then again. And then again.

  My hands tightened into the comforter as I squeezed my eyes shut. His nose pressed against the underside of my balls as he fucked his tongue into me. I pressed down against him, wanting more but unable to articulate it.

  I didn’t know how long it went on, but my eyes felt glazed by the time he sat back, letting my legs fall back again onto the bed. I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as he stood. “Ten out of ten,” I said in a high-pitched voice. “Would recommend.”

  “Still good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Still good.”

  His hands went to the front of his leather pants. I got with the program quickly and kicked my own jeans and underwear off. I lifted my shirt over my head before tossing it aside. I lay back, propped up on my elbows. He was staring down at me, a look of awe on his face.

  Instead of saying something sexy, he said, “You look good here. In my bed.”

  “Christ,” I muttered. “How the hell did we not do this months ago?”

  He shook his head. “It’s the right time.”

  “It is?”

  “Yeah, Corey. It is. I think it’s better this way.”

  I shrugged. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay. You should fuck me.”

  That got his attention. He snapped his head up at me. “You sure? I can be the one who—”

  “Next time. Pretty sure I’ve got an awesome recovery rate. We should test it out, though, just to make sure. Rigorously.”

  He fumbled with his pants. They fell open, and I groaned when I saw the tops of his pubes. “Of course you weren’t wearing unde
rwear. You planned this whole thing!”

  “Right,” he said dryly. “That’s exactly it.” He started to pull his pants down but frowned when he barely got them over his hips. He pulled them again. They barely moved.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked sweetly.

  “I wore leather pants in September in Arizona,” he said.

  “Yeah. Didn’t think that through, did you.” And since I was still magnanimous, I sat up on the bed, deciding I should help him. I tried not to laugh as we both jerked on his pants to no avail. “This is amazing.”

  “Shut up,” he muttered.

  “No, really. It is. Here, lay on the bed.”

  He sighed as he did. I stood up in front of him and pulled his legs up, grabbing the bottom of the leather pants near his feet. I grunted as the muscles in my arms tensed as I tried to jerk the pants down. “Help me!”

  “I’m trying,” he growled at me, pushing down the top of the pants. I knew we were getting close when his dick popped out, pale and slender and lovely. I ground my teeth together as I pulled as hard as I could.

  I should have known that they’d come off. I had my heart set on it, after all. But imagine my surprise when they shot off and I fell backward onto the floor, leather pants slapping against my face and landing on my head.

  “So,” I said in the silence that followed, unable to see anything. “Can we pretend that was very erotic and you’ve never been more turned on in your life?”

  He started bellowing laughter.

  What a jerk.

  I pulled the pants off my head and dropped them to the floor. He was rocking back and forth on his back, arms wrapped over his stomach as he held his sides. The fucker had tears in his eyes, he was laughing so hard.

  “Y-y-you should s-see the l-l-look on your face!” he howled.

  “I hate you so goddamn much,” I mumbled as I pushed myself up off the floor. His laughter was cut off as I crawled up on top of him. His skin was heated and sweaty, but I liked the way it felt. He was smiling as I put my face near his. He reached up and cupped my cheek as I settled on top of him, my cock against his.