Something’s wrong. There’s a tightness along his jaw that’s not normally there. I sit up in concern. My first instinct is to go to him, but I hold back. “What’s wrong?”
He looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. Just some news from back home.”
That doesn’t sound good. “Did something happen?”
“It’s fine now. My sister’s going to take care of it.”
Elusive and secretive. He lays down and throws an arm over his eyes, the other flat on his stomach. I watch his chest rise and fall in fascination, my gaze tracing the contours of his body, from his shoulders to his feet. I’ve never been one to look at a man’s feet, but Austin has some nice toes.
I’ve seen him in these moods before. I can recall a few times back in high school when something had happened, I’m guessing with his family. He never told me what was wrong. I’m wondering if it has anything to do with his mother.
Steeling myself, I move over to his bed. As soon as the mattress dips down, Austin shoots up, mumbling, “Gonna take a shower.” He makes a beeline for the bathroom and shuts the door. And this time, I hear the lock.
What I definitely wasn’t going to do was take advantage of Austin during his state. Was that what he thought I was going to do? Fine. I’ll just wait for him on his bed.
The shower hisses beyond the shut door. I stare at it, thinking. Yes, I wanted to touch him, but to comfort, not to arouse.
After talking with Jaden from the bar, it’s never been more clear that I’m attracted to men. But as soon as Austin walked through the door, I was really fucking happy I didn’t go home with Jaden. Austin, well... he’s home.
After probably the longest shower known to man, the bathroom door opens. Austin steps out with a billow of steam. He’d changed into sweatpants and a shirt. I kind of wish he’d come out with the towel around his waist. Oh well.
As soon as he sees me sitting on his bed, he goes still. He looks to his bed. Then mine. He’s probably thinking he doesn’t want to do anything that will sway me to hooking up again. But he’s wrong. I look at him and my throat feels a little dry, my cock stirring between my legs. Whatever we’ve done for the last two nights, I want to keep doing it.
I scoot over and pat the space beside me. He pads over, then lays down, still tense.
Turning on my side, I face him. He looks to the ceiling and closes his eyes.
Knowing Austin, he won’t want to talk about whatever it is that’s bothering him. If you push, he pulls away. As evidence of the fact that for nearly two years after high school, I continued to text him with no response.
I decide to go for a different route.
“Breakfast in bed, huh?” My voice is light. “I should give you blowjobs more often.”
His mouth gives the barest twitch. That’s progress.
“You were gone when I woke up though.”
His body seeks deeper into the mattress, and he lets out a breath. “I had a lot to think about.”
My stomach pitches itself off the bed. That doesn’t sound good. “Like what?”
He doesn’t respond, but I know it’s about everything we did last night. I want to know where we stand. I want this, want to continue doing—whatever this is. Exploring each other’s bodies. Having fun. Getting to know my best friend on an entirely new level. But I need to know if he wants that too.
I rest my hand on his stomach, right next to his. He freezes beneath my touch. Leisurely, I trail my fingers back and forth across his abdomen. I half expect him to push me away, but when he doesn’t, when he instead relaxes, the tension around his mouth smoothing away, I know that’s the green light.
Shifting to straddle his legs, I grip the waistband of his shorts and start tugging them down his hips. He helps me, and now it’s just his boxer briefs separating us. His proud erection tents the soft fabric. My mouth is watering.
Austin removes his arm from his eyes and now stares at me with so much heat I expect my skin to blister off. There’s heat, but also turmoil, hurt, fear. Whatever it is that’s bothering him, I want to take away that pain. If only for a short while.
Smoothing my hands up his powerful thighs, I gauge his reaction. His green eyes deepen as desire overtakes him, and the tension in the room ratchets up a notch.
“Take off your shirt,” I tell him.
He does, tossing it to the floor.
Last thing. I tug down his boxer briefs, and his cock juts out like a telephone pole, thick and proud, ruddy and thickly veined, a bead of moisture having gathered at the tip.
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I tell him, kneeling between his thighs.
And now? It’s mine.
Chapter 15
Austin
The moment Logan puts his mouth on me, I am in flames. All the blood in my body rushes south, to the point of contact between his tongue and my aching dick. A moan flies out of my mouth, and I don’t care who hears me. It’s dark out anyway. If someone happened to walk by our door, they’d probably think one of us was hooking up with a French girl. How wrong they’d be.
I claw at the sheets as I fight the need to thrust, push myself deeper into his mouth. It’s good. It’s so, so good. It’s unreal how much I want this, but more than that, how much I need this. Yes, the sex, but more than that, the man currently in bed with me right now. The one person who I trust completely aside from my sister.
A growl resonates in my chest as he laps at the moisture beading from my slit. He goes at it with more enthusiasm, and my hips start canting off the bed. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I’m not too ashamed to admit that a small whimper comes out of me. I can’t help it. He touches me, and I lose all sense of control. When he returns to sucking, I murmur, “Harder.”
He gives it to me. A bolt of pleasure strikes me in the pelvis and radiates outward, coalescing in my balls. Right as I’m about to combust, he pulls back, mouth wet, and watches me with an intensity that makes me nervous.
“I already know you have a dirty mouth on the field,” he says, leaning forward to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along my shaft. “But what about in bed?”
My mind is a haze of heat and tension. A fog of pleasure has descended over me, but his question manages to pierce through. I think he’s asking if I like to talk dirty in bed. And the answer is yes, I do. But I’m having a hard time putting two and two together.
At another suck, I moan softly. My hips twist. My palms are sweating, the sheets damp from it. My skin feels feverish.
“I’m not giving you what you want until you give me what I want,” he says, laughter in his voice.
“What is it—” My voice breaks off as he starts swirling his tongue along the head. My throat works. “What is it you want?”
“You, talking dirty. To me.”
I wonder if Logan thinks his request is out of character for me, but it’s not. Something happens when I have sex. It’s like my usual placid tendencies vanish, and in their place is someone forward, dominant, but always giving. Logan wants dirty talk? I’ll give him dirty talk.
I move so fast he doesn’t know what’s happening until he’s on his belly, legs splayed, with me leaning over his back. “You want dirty talk?” I murmur into his ear, nibbling along the edge. A shudder rolls through him as he groans, the sound muffled by the pillow. My hand smooths down his spine. I could touch him all day.
He says what might be a “yes.”
I smile, my hand moving to the taut cheeks of his ass. Then I smack one cheek with an open palm.
He jerks. “Christ.”
“On your knees,” I tell him. “Now.” That’s pure command in my voice.
He pushes his ass into the air. I can’t help but admire it. Logan has a spectacular set of buns.
Hunched over his back, I curve one hand around his waist and find his cock, curling my fi
ngers around its jutting length. Logan bows his head. “I never told you back in high school,” I whisper against his neck as I nip along his skin and soothe the sting, “but I loved having your cock in my mouth.” I jerk him extra slow. After last night, I know Logan likes it fast, so I’m going to have fun torturing him. “I love hearing how you whimpered. Was that the first time you’d ever had a blow job?” From the intensity of his reaction, I’d wondered. At the time, I’d only ever hooked up with one guy, and the first time I received a blow job, I had almost the same reaction Logan did.
I squeeze him until he whimpers. “Yes.”
My heart gives a little happy dance at that—being his first. I kiss his cheek. “I could tell.” I resume my hand motion. It feels like I’m high. Like I’m floating. God, this guy drives me crazy. “You didn’t know it then with your blindfold on, but I was jerking myself as I sucked you off.”
Logan begins to tremble. “Fuck, man. You’re too good at this.” He swears as I tighten my grip once I near the base. “The dirty talk. But also th-that.” His hips give a hard jolt. “Don’t stop talking. Don’t stop touching me either.”
He doesn’t have to worry about that. Touching Logan McGregor is all I’ve ever wanted to do.
“Did you—” Another moan where his voice pitches higher. “—jerk off to the thought of me other times?”
My hand stills, my confidence faltering. Dirty talk is great, but now it’s getting more personal than I’m comfortable with. “You really want to know?”
“Why’d you stop, asshole?” He wraps his hand around my own and resumes the back and forth motion. Then he answers, “Yeah, I do.”
I’m silent for a moment, needing to gather my thoughts. I almost lie. I don’t want Logan to know just how deep my affection for him runs. But our friendship was never built on dishonesty, so I settle with the truth, even if it makes my face heat. “I did.” Morning, night, didn’t matter. He was always on my mind. “Sometimes I even jerked off to you in the locker room showers.”
“Wait, seriously?”
Seriously. I was a sick fuck. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be around Logan all the time. He was the worst sort of drug, and I needed my daily fix. “I also thought about pounding into you.” The hand that’s not jerking him wanders back to his ass. “Here.” I touch the very top of his crease, and that’s when Logan goes absolutely still.
Shit. I’ve gone too far and scared him. This is why talking dirty is dangerous. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control what came out of my mouth.
Pulling back, I think of how best to handle the situation. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward.
Logan turns around. His face is flushed. His pupils are so large they nearly swallow his eyes. We stare at one another for a long, stretched out moment. I wish I had the strength to turn away, but I don’t.
He licks his lips. “What’s it like?” he wonders. “To—you know.”
My throat bobs. I think I know where he’s going with this, but I have to be sure. “Be fucked up the butt, you mean?” That’s still my dirty talk going.
He chokes out some laughter. “Um.” The word quavers. “Yeah. That.” There isn’t disgust in his gaze. Merely curiosity.
My face flushes. I can’t forget that Logan is most likely straight, and his question makes me feel like I’m under a microscope. “At first you just feel a burn. It takes a while to loosen up. But once you hit your prostate, it’s like your top three best orgasms all rolled into one mind-blowing orgasm.”
“Really.” Not a question. His eyes dip to my mouth, and his lips part. His gaze glitters with raw, banked need. “Sounds like it’s up my alley then.” His focus returns to my face. “Maybe we could start slow first. Like a finger. To see if I’d, uh, like it or not.”
Holy shit. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. I crack a joke. “You’re telling me to want to experiment with butt stuff?” I laugh. “Brown town?”
He laughs too, and it’s not forced. This is how it is between us—easy. Even when it’s fumbling and awkward and new, it’s easy. “Butt stuff. I like the sound of that.”
Okay, I’m pretty sure I once had a dream about Logan where he said those exact words. So this is literally like a dream come true. “Have you ever watched gay porn?”
I expect him to say no, but he surprises me by saying, “A few times.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline. “Really?”
“First time was a dare.” His shoulders shift as he sucks in a breath. “Second time I was curious, honestly.”
“So you’re telling me you voluntarily watched gay porn.”
He gives me a long look. “Yes.”
“And what did you think?” I’m trying not to show too much enthusiasm.
He sniffs and looks elsewhere. “It was fine.”
I crack a laugh. So there may be a small chance that Logan enjoyed himself watching two guys fuck. I can only hope.
I stare into his eyes and ask, “Do you trust me?”
“I trust you.” No hesitation.
“Flip onto your back.” I want to see his face.
He follows my instructions, and I lean over him, my hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his head. I trail one hand across his chest, down his abs, brushing the place I know he wants me to touch. The muscles of his abdomen contract, and I can see the indentations between the muscles, the slight shadowing. I follow my hand with my mouth, licking a pathway through the muscles, dipping my tongue into his belly button. He relaxes into the mattress.
Tracing the sharp bones of his hips, I track a course down to the junction between his thighs. I’m glad he’s letting go of the tension. This will be far more comfortable if he’s not stiff as a plank of wood.
My bag is by my bed. I reach into it for the lube. It was meant to be used for a random hookup abroad. I didn’t intend for that guy to be Logan.
I dribble some onto my fingers and go back to stroking his cock, the glide liquid smooth. His eyes are bright as he watches my hand move up and down. Then he reaches for me. “Let me help.”
He puts some lube on his hand as well, and now we’re both stroking one another. With each upward motion of his hand, I grow stiffer. It’s taking a lot of willpower to rein in my orgasm, but I hold off. This is about Logan. Showing him there’s nothing wrong with finding pleasure in your own body.
Gradually, my hand wanders to his balls. I play with them, stroking the delicate skin of the sack. He makes a humming sound in his throat.
“Do you like that?” I ask.
He nods, mesmerized by my hand on him. “Feels good.”
It’s about to feel even better.
Since he’s focused on me, I use the chance to rub circles on his taint. He squirms, wanting more friction. I skirt around what he wants though. My slick fingers trail further downward, until I brush the rim of his hole. Logan flinches.
I go still.
“Uh.” He laughs and rubs the sides of his mouth. Blinks a few times. “Took me by surprise, that’s all.”
I give him another tentative rub, circling the puckered ring of muscle. The touch is soft, so it should feel gentle to him. A mere probing. Once his skin turns sensitive, all those nerve endings will start to go haywire.
While I’m loosening him up, I lean forward and take his mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. I love being sexual with Logan. I love touching him and making him come, but this is my favorite part: kissing him. I would happily do this, and only this, for hours and days and weeks. There are so many ways to kiss a mouth, and I find myself growing bold, swallowing the soft sounds he makes as my finger strokes his hole, rubbing along the textured skin. I trace his teeth with my tongue. His plunges into my mouth, over and over. We’re fucking each other with our mouths.
When I feel him relax again, I breach his hole, swallowing his gasp down. I l
ean back, checking to see if he’s still okay with this. His cheeks are redder than they were a moment ago. “How does it feel?”
“Tight.” He chuckles, albeit self-consciously. I press another kiss to his mouth, and he smiles at that. “It burns a little.”
“That’s normal.” I continue the breach, circling around and around. It’s slick down there. I push my finger up until the first knuckle, slow. Logan’s body adjusts, getting used to the sensation. “I mean, it feels fine. I don’t really know what the big deal is—”
Curling my finger toward his belly button, I brush the walnut-sized organ, and he goes rigid. A broken moan flies out of his mouth. I know how it feels. The first time I had my prostate stroked, I came in two seconds flat. It’s nothing but fierce, obliterating pleasure. So good it feels as if you could die and come back to life.
“Don’t know what the big deal about it is, huh?” I ask him in amusement as I watch sweat bead on his upper lip. He licks it away and stares at me, panting. Logan has no idea how fuckable he looks right now.
“Oh, my God. Austin.” One of his hands squeezes my wrist, hard enough to crack bone. He’s shaking. Not small trembles, but enough to rattle the bed. “If you stop, man, I might have to kill you.”
Just to mess with him, I slowly pull my finger out.
“No!” He tries to follow me, shifting his ass as if it’s attached to my finger by a string. “Please. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t stop doing that.”
I laugh. I feel so happy right now. “Fine.” I decide to put him out of his misery—or maybe back into misery, because as I resume stroking the ridge inside of him, he tosses his head to the side in abandon.
“Yes,” he whispers to himself. His eyes flutter shut. “Yes.”
I increase the pressure of the strokes. He begins to move with me. He’s fucking my finger, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter in my life. His erection sticks straight up, and I shift my other hand there, stroking him with two hands, doubling the pleasure I’m giving him. But what he doesn’t know is that the pleasure’s only just begun.
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