by Jay Hogan
“Goddammit, if you don’t fuck me now, Rawlins, I’m gonna blow my load in your sweet mouth, and it’ll be all over.”
Josh let Michael’s cock slide from his lips. “I don’t think so.” He gave the butt plug a firm tug, dragging it over the man’s prostate, watching Michael’s eyes fly wide. With his jaw clenched and his hands fisted around the couch cushion, he was clearly only just holding on, and Josh took a second just to drink in the sight.
He’d done that. He’d brought this sexy man to his knees, begging to be fucked. His chest swelled, and he dropped a kiss on Michael’ groin. “Nah, you won’t blow your load, because you want my dick deep in your arse right now, more than you want to breathe, right?”
Michael mumbled something unintelligible.
“Use your words.”
“Maybe,” Michael hissed through gritted teeth.
“Maybe what?”
Michael levelled Josh a murderous glance. “Maybe I want your cock in my ass more than breathing, wolf-man. But I would remember whose turn it is next, mister. Payback and all that. Just saying.”
He had a valid point. Josh slid the plug back, leaving it sitting just inside the rim as he ran his fingers over Michael’s balls.
“Come on, I’m dying here,” Michael groaned.
Josh sympathised. He was struggling not to just unload all over the guy that very minute himself. He took a shaky breath and positioned himself between Michael’s legs, lifting both his knees. “Take ’em high,” he said. “I want a front-row seat.”
“Pervert,” Michael grumbled but grabbed his thighs and pulled them up to his chest, exposing himself completely.
Jesus Christ and fucking hallelujah. Josh had to grab the base of his dick to stop himself flying over the edge at the mere sight. This sexy, smart-as-fuck man spread out like a damn candy store just for Josh’s pleasure. And front and centre, one red-white-and-blue butt plug pulsing gently, half hanging out of that tight, sweet hole.
He rasped a breath and pulled the plug free.
Michael hissed. “Finally.”
Josh grabbed the condom and lube, then slid two slicked-up fingers into that trembling hole, and watched them glide in and out.
Michael whined. “No more… fucking prep.”
“Shh,” Josh soothed. “It’s not prep. I just love being in your arse. It’s a goddamn furnace.” He slid his fingers out, took Michael’s legs around his waist, and breached him gently, summoning all his control to not blow his home run on the very first stroke.
Michael groaned. “Thank. Fucking. God.” He ran his hand around Josh’s neck and pulled him down for a blistering kiss as they both took a minute to adjust. “About fucking time.” He then shoved Josh away and gripped the couch cushions. “Now fuck me like you goddamn mean it.”
My pleasure. Josh didn’t need to be told twice. He hoisted Michael’s legs up onto his shoulders, building quickly to a demanding tempo.
“Right. Fucking. There.” Michael sputtered. “So… close….”
Thank God. Josh was barely hanging on by his fingernails himself. He secured Michael’s hips with a punishing grip that was sure to leave bruises and let fly, stroking hard and fast into his tight heat. It wasn’t long before his balls drew up and that familiar promising tingle spread from the base of his spine.
“Come on, babycakes, come for me,” Josh encouraged, holding back, waiting for a sign of that telltale tension in Michael’s body. That hitch that let him know Michael was about to explode. And… there it was.
With his head thrown back, mouth open, and eyes closed, he was a goddamn sight to behold as he fell apart in spectacular fashion. And with that, Josh let go, allowing his own orgasm to erupt in a wave of pleasure, keeping up a slow in-and-out glide until they’d ridden out the last of their tremors through to stillness. And for a few seconds, all was quiet.
“Fucking hell,” Josh gasped, doing his best not to collapse on Michael’s injuries, although the man’s current consciousness appeared up for debate. Michael lay motionless, eyes closed, quick shallow breaths offering the only sign of life. Josh released his legs but kept his softening cock tucked warmly inside Michael’s arse as he licked the splashes of cum from the man’s chest.
At length Michael lifted his head to watch, and Josh reached up to catch his lips with his own, sharing the taste. Michael’s arms wrapped around him as the kiss lingered and became tender. His fingers traced soft lines along Josh’s spine, adding twirls and delicate brushes. He seemed equally as unwilling to end the embrace, and Josh’s chest tightened at the thought. It felt like so much more than just sex between them. But therein lay the hope of fools and far, far too much danger for Josh’s heart.
The thought was enough to break the spell and have Josh lift his lips and a few walls as well. “Mmm,” he nuzzled Michael’s jaw. “I love the way you smell. You are one sexy-as-fuck man.”
“Is that right?” Michael nipped Josh’s earlobe. “Well, you’re not too shabby yourself.” He pulled back and glanced down meaningfully to where Josh lay still in residence in his ass.
“You thinking of signing a lease?”
Josh grinned widely. “Now there’s an excellent idea.” He withdrew and tied off the condom before dropping it to the floor. Then he shifted sideways and squished himself alongside Michael on the narrow couch, throwing his leg over Michael’s thighs.
“I’m thinking of hanging a Home Sweet Home shingle on that sweet piece of real estate….” He froze. Fuck. “Sorry, that sounded… I mean… I know we aren’t….”
Michael put a finger to Josh’s lips and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “It’s all good, wolf-man. We’re just having fun, right?”
Josh hesitated just a second. “Exactly. Fun.” Something flickered in his belly at the words.
Michael pulled him close. “I have to admit that was a sweet ride.” He played with a curl of Josh’s hair. “And a first for me.”
Josh lifted his head and stared. “Exactly what first are we talking about here? The doing as you’re told part, or the getting spanked part?”
A blush stole the edges of Michael’s cheeks and drifted down across his throat, leaving Josh wanting nothing more than to track its path and bask in the unexpected innocence it betrayed.
“I think I’ll plead the Fifth on that.” Michael smiled softly. “Let’s just say I don’t like handing over the reins.”
Josh gasped dramatically. “No, say it isn’t so.”
Michael punched his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Not like you don’t have any control issues.”
“True,” Josh admitted. He took Michael’s free hand and attended to each finger with a kiss, keenly aware of the man’s scrutiny. “But you’re okay with it, right?” He caught those sapphire eyes and held them.
Michael grinned. “If you call ‘pretty fucking blown away’ okay.” The blush spread northwards.
Fucking adorable. Josh planted a kiss on Michael’s chest, swiping his nipple with his tongue, enjoying the startled flinch it drew in response.
“I do have one bone to pick with you, however.” Michael spun a swathe of Josh’s hair into a tight ringlet and gave it a tug.
“Ow.”
Michael narrowed his gaze. “What’s with the whole cutesy name shit? I mean, babycakes? Really? I lost enough of my male mojo tonight, giving it up like I did, without needing the extra therapy hours, thank you very much.”
Josh slid his arm around Michael’s waist and hauled him closer. “It’s a deal… sweet cheeks.” He laughed all the way until his butt hit the floor, with Michael straddling his chest in reverse, diving straight for Josh’s knees.
Josh threw himself back in defence. “No way, ah… stop… please… no… horse bites… stop,” he begged, as Michael reduced him to a mess of squirming flesh. A few seconds of exquisite torture later, and Michael stopped, hands poised above Josh’s knees.
“Give in?”
Josh lifted his head to run his tongue up Michael’s butt cr
ack.
“Hey.” Michael’s cheeks clenched.
Josh laughed. “Me give in? Not on your life, snookums.”
“Bastard.” Michael squeezed both knees, and Josh bucked, grabbing on to the other man’s arms. “Okay, okay, okay. I give in…. Jesus.”
Michael looked down at him, eyes twinkling. “Say you’re sorry.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He freed his arms and tried to pull Michael down for a kiss while attempting to grope that delicious arse still staring him right in the face.
“No cheating.” Michael twisted in a feeble attempt to escape until Josh slipped a finger into that still-slick hole, and then a second, upon which Michael instantly froze. “Fuck.” The man’s eyes rolled back. “Maybe just a little cheating.” He pushed back, forcing Josh’s fingers deeper.
“In that case,” Josh murmured, quietly working his fingers in and out, “I’m more than happy to apologise.” He pulled Michael down and took his lips. “How about we take this to the shower?”
Michael instantly nodded. “Lead on.”
THEY ORDERED pizza an hour later, after a lengthy shower and a seemingly longer debate over toppings. The resolution involved ordering three completely different pizzas, only one of which could be shared.
Josh was an idiot, Michael determined very early in the heated discussion. There was no way in hell mussels and whatever the hell kumara was should ever be allowed within a country mile of a New York pizza crust. Was the man insane? What the fuck was wrong with this country?
He was still musing on this abomination while wrapped in Josh’s arms, watching the end of the rugby game that the man had suspiciously had the foresight to record. He wriggled in close. Josh was a goddamn furnace, radiating heat against the skin of Michael’s back, skin that he’d been forbidden to cover after their shower, making him also a pervert of the highest order.
Hidden from Josh’s eyes, Michael was free to ignore the game and think. He’d reciprocated the clothing-optional demand onto Josh, so he really had no basis for complaint. Shifting in his seat, he rubbed deliciously against Josh’s bare chest and all but purred. Christ. He barely recognised this version of himself, damn near drooling over a hunk of ass, albeit gorgeous ass. Okay so not just the ass—he wasn’t stupid. Josh was a hell of a nice guy. But neither of them wanted more. Yeah, right. Did Michael really still believe that? He wanted to say yes, but he now knew that for the lie it was, at least on his side. Not that the knowledge changed anything. He still doubted Josh would see him as ideal boyfriend material.
The chemistry between them had thrown Michael in a life-rearranging kind of way. He’d not just surrendered control but damn near thrown it at the man wrapped and tied up in a big red fucking bow. For a guy who bottomed rarely and begrudgingly, he’d allowed himself to be dominated and ordered around, and loved every mouthwatering, stupefying second of it. Best. Sex. Ever.
It scared the shit out of him. But while his mind screamed “what the fuck,” his dick was on board with every damned order and slap. Oh, and by the way—the slaps—hot damn, who’d have guessed? Worst of all, as much as he’d waved the “my turn next” flag, all Michael really wanted to do was drop to his knees and beg for a repeat performance.
So much for being fuck buddies. He stole a backward glance, and Josh kissed his nose. The cuddly, touchy stuff, nose kisses included, that was just Josh, right? And even if, and that was a big if, Josh might be considering more with Michael, he didn’t yet know all about Michael’s dodgy fidelity past, or his drinking, or any of the rest of it, and Michael wasn’t kidding himself that learning about all that would go down well. Cue someone like Brent, the “solid” option. Well, fuck.
When the pizza arrived, Michael sidestepped the offer of a beer in favour of a Pepsi with little more than a curious glance from Josh. They ate on the couch, then cleaned up the kitchen mostly in silence, moving around each other in a strangely comfortable domestic dance. Halfway through, Josh fielded a call from Sasha. Michael waved him away to talk and finished cleaning up. But keeping a side-eye on the man, he saw Josh’s brows knit in concern, obviously less than pleased at whatever was being said. Josh then wandered into the living room out of earshot. Michael shrugged it off. It wasn’t any of his business.
“Things okay?” he ventured when Josh returned.
Josh headed for the fridge and another beer, not meeting his eyes. “It was just Sasha.”
Well, okay. Michael could take a hint with the best of them. But then Josh surprised him by walking across and brushing his lips across Michael’s. “Grandparent problems. They, um, don’t appreciate my ‘lifestyle.’ Nothing I want to think about right now.”
It was an explanation he didn’t need to give and had Michael rethinking once again if maybe Josh would consider something more between them. Maybe it was worth talking about at least. If Josh turned him down, so what? Michael was a big boy. He’d deal.
Josh took his hand and led him back to the couch, stepping over Paris to drop Michael into the cushions at one end while he took up position at the other. He looked like he had something to say, and Michael tensed, another ripple of nerves crossing his belly.
Paris spread his body over the newly arrived feet and cranked up a good snore. Michael scrunched his toes into the shepherd’s fur, looking for a distraction, and Paris groaned in appreciation. If Josh wanted to talk, Michael would wait.
“He likes you,” Josh commented.
Michael snorted. “You mean he sees me as a soft target.”
Josh laughed. “That too. Still, police dogs are pretty standoffish with strangers as a rule, but from day one, he’s been good with you.”
“So, I should take it as a compliment?”
“Absolutely.”
Michael dug his toes deeper into the shepherd’s neck. There was something uncannily reassuring about that trusting warmth, so accepting of him, no questions, no judgement. He thought of Scout. Yeah, maybe it was time for an animal in his life. The dog rolled to his back, redirecting Michael’s attention to his stomach. He laughed. “God, wish I had that effect on everyone.”
Josh sent him a wink. “You only need it with those who count.”
Okay, so maybe nothing bad, then. “And you’d be one of those, I take it?” he fished, so sue him.
Josh answered with a huge smile. “Yeah, I’d roll over and offer you my belly any day.”
He crossed the space between them and pressed his lips to Michael’s. The kiss was tender, soft and lingering with just a brush of tongue. It stroked and whispered and fluttered with a hundred wished-for promises. And it filled every one of Michael’s deeply empty spaces.
With all the sex they’d shared, why it was this one kiss that finally collapsed his walls, Michael didn’t understand. But the why didn’t matter. What did matter was that he could no longer deny that this “thing” between them had gone a million light years past just sex, at least for Michael. Yes, he wanted the sex. But he also wanted the cuddling, the talking, dates and movies and walks and fuck, fuck, fuck. This was so very, very not in his plans.
He jerked away and dropped his gaze, choosing to focus on Paris, anything to avoid the man who was so systematically and ruthlessly shredding his defences. “Yeah, well I’m more an ass man myself.” He refused to look up.
Josh laughed, kissed his neck, and returned to his end of the couch, seemingly oblivious to the devastation he’d just wreaked in Michael’s heart.
“So,” Josh said, “you know a fair bit about my coming out and my fucked-up life. How about evening the playing field?”
Nope. Not even a little bit. Michael sighed. He wanted to tell Josh everything, God how he wanted to, but what if he took it badly, what if it meant that this was it, the last time they saw each other? Did he risk it? Would it be better to just enjoy tonight, and then back off with some dignity before someone got hurt, namely Michael? Fuck.
Eventually he answered, “All right but go easy on me.”
His family was pretty accepting once the initial shock wore off, so all in all, he’d been pretty damn fortunate.
Josh managed to pin him down once about Simon, God knows how that happened. But Michael had managed to keep to the bare details, omitting the full ugly truth about his part in the breakup, alluding simply to the work pressure of two doctors trying to have a relationship. He volunteered a bit about his training—why he’d chosen it—because his dad was a doctor, and that he genuinely liked the adrenaline rush of the emergency room. But after that, conversation got tricky.
“So, I noticed you don’t drink,” Josh said out of nowhere.
Michael froze. “Oh, you did, did you?” he snipped.
Josh raised his palms. “Hey, it’s okay. None of my business.”
Michael sighed. The guy was a cop, for Christ’s sake—of course he’d noticed. “You’re right,” he said. “It is none of your business.” He pinned Josh with a glare that softened. “But yeah, I don’t drink. There’s a fuckload of stress in ER medicine and a lot of that shit follows you home. Let’s just say I learned from experience that using alcohol to deal with it was less than smart, so I stopped altogether.” It flew close enough to the truth to pass, and Josh simply gave a brief nod, and the conversation moved on.
Michael released the breath he’d been holding. It was the most he’d said to anyone about his brief train wreck with alcohol other than those who had to know. But this was Josh, and somehow that fucker just drew this shit out of Michael like pus from a wound. Still, it had gone better than he’d expected, so maybe Michael could risk telling him the whole story. Maybe. Tomorrow, if he felt the same, he would.