Properly, this time.
I’m not really a romantic person, but I swear, music soars, birds sing, and colors explode. His lips are so soft and warm and wet, and his body against mine is nothing but temptation. Neither of us shaved today, and the friction of our morning beards is the sexiest thing I’ve felt in a long time.
By the time we break apart, we’re both breathing hard, and I’m flushed hot all over. His cheeks are pink and his eyes glassy. It’s a great look on him, and I love that I made him look that way.
“No kissing, no sex, no anything in the office,” I pant.
He stares at me blankly, then nods. “Only outside the office.” He hesitates, then surges forward to kiss me again.
This time when we break apart, I can barely remember where we are.
“Uh… were you working on something important?” Please say no.
“Nothing that can’t wait.” His lips are puffy. I made them that way.
“Do you want to…?” I jerk my head toward where our cars are parked, this time hoping he says yes.
“My place. Your brothers were still unconscious on your couch when I left.”
Oh hell. I forgot about them. “I’ll follow you,” I promise, literally doing so as he begins walking. My eyes are on his ass, so I nearly run into him when he stops abruptly. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to stop at the drugstore.”
Being an intelligent man, I catch on quick. “Oh.” I guess that makes sense—he’s only been in town a month, and he’s been working all hours. I have stuff at my place, but if I stop by there to grab it, my brothers… well, let’s just say, I’ll never hear the end of it. “I’ll go,” I offer, “and meet you at your place.”
Three minutes later, I’m in the car and on my way to the store. It’ll take me two minutes, tops, to get in there and grab what I need. Even if there’s a line at the register, I should still only be five or six minutes behind Jason. We can be naked a minute after that.
So of course I run into my grandmother and sister at the store.
“Dimitri!”
I get called Dimitri by my grandmother, occasionally an employer, or when I’m in trouble, so even if I didn’t recognize the voice, I would have known who was behind me. I close my eyes. Running into Gram does not bode well for my plans to be naked in the next ten minutes—or for my erection.
Turning with a very fake smile pasted on my face, my spirits dive even further when I see Sienna with Gram. “Hi,” I say and bend to kiss Gram’s cheek. “How are you today? Not too tired from yesterday?” Gram is a force of nature, but she’s nearly ninety-two. She didn’t stay for the whole party, but it’s still been a busy few days. I’m actually surprised Mom didn’t try to stop her going out today.
Although, knowing Gram, Mom probably did try to stop her—and failed.
Sure enough, she waves her hand as if my question was ridiculous. “What are you doing here? You said you were working today.” It’s almost an accusation, and I immediately feel guilty.
“Yes, I, uh, just need to pick up some things and then Jason and I will be… brainstorming for the rest of the day.” I mentally eviscerate myself but keep a bland expression on my face. I can’t show weakness in front of Sienna—or Gram, for that matter.
Sweat trickles down my spine.
“We won’t keep you, then,” Gram declares. “You work so hard.”
Could she have said anything to make me feel worse?
I muster up a sickly smile. “Thanks, Gram. I’ll see you on Monday. You too, Sienna.” I’m actually a little afraid, because Sienna hasn’t said anything yet.
She knows.
Impossible. How could she?
She meets my gaze, and the wicked gleam there is all the proof I need.
“See you Monday, Dimi.”
I give a weird little wave and stroll away as nonchalantly as I can. Now I have to somehow get what I need and get out without running into them again, because I do not want Gram to realize what I meant by “brainstorming.”
By the time I make it out to my car, I’m sweating profusely and having flashbacks to the time my mom walked in on me watching internet porn when I was fifteen. I’d just decided that being gay was no longer a possibility but a definite when she opened the door. Needless to say, I came out to myself and to her that day.
It’s something I still occasionally have nightmares about.
I drive to Jason’s feeling a lot less sexy than before, but sure that just seeing him will help get the mood back.
Until I walk into the lobby of his building and see him talking to Mrs. Henshall.
Or rather, trapped by Mrs. Henshall.
I sigh, then wade into the fray.
“Hey, Mrs. Henshall.”
She looks up as I join them and narrows her eyes. It makes her dark brown skin wrinkle even more than it is already. “Dimi, what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk shop with Jason—and to say hello to you. I barely got to see you yesterday, you were so popular.”
Her expression tells me I’m not fooling her, but she sniffs and nods. “It was a lovely party. Your mother and the committee work so hard.”
“They do,” I agree, because it’s true. It takes a shitload of effort to pull it off, but the community party is an essential part of Joyville.
We chat for a few minutes more, and then she says, “It’s time for my show. I’ll see you boys soon. Don’t go causing any trouble.”
The look Jason gives me over her head is agonized, but we merely agree, wish her a good day, and then watch in silence as she shuffles with her walker into her apartment. The door closes, and Jason grabs my arm and drags me to the elevator. Neither of us say a word until we’re in and the door is safely closed, and then we collapse in fits of laughter.
“I’m fifty-three years old,” he gasps. “What the hell kind of trouble am I going to cause?”
The elevator door opens, and we get ourselves under control enough to exit and get into his apartment.
And an awkward silence descends. We stand there, looking at each other. What is wrong with us? We’ve both had sex before.
Screw it.
I grab the front of his shirt and yank him to me. Our mouths collide, and suddenly the awkwardness is gone. Everything is right.
Jason loops his arms around me, and without pulling away from the kiss, tugs me back—presumably toward his bedroom. Or the couch. Or a bare patch of wall. I’d be fine with any of the above, because I have my hands and mouth on him, finally. I yank his shirt out of my way and fumble with his belt. We stumble, and our mouths break apart for a second before he pulls me back in.
It might be a minute or an hour later when we collapse sideways onto his bed. I’ve managed to get his pants open, and he’s stripped off my shirt and is currently licking his way across my chest. I’ve always had sensitive skin, but I feel like I’m on fire right now. I thread my fingers through his thick hair, trying to resist the urge to clench a fist, and he moans and lifts his eyes to my face.
“Get naked.”
I jackknife off the bed and get my clothes off so fast, it leaves me dizzy. When I look back at Jason, he’s still lying there, a startled and impressed expression on his face.
“I think I’d throw my back out if I tried that,” he muses.
“Less thinking, more stripping,” I order, and he grins and rolls off the bed.
“Did you get what we need?” he asks, and I look around. Where the hell is the bag from the drugstore?
“Yes. Wait.” I leave him to get out of his clothes and retrace our path from the front door. Sure enough, I dropped the bag right around the time I grabbed him. By the time I get back to the bedroom, Jason is naked, sprawled on the bed, and stroking a mouthwatering erection.
I take a flying leap toward the bed, making him yelp and s
cramble to get out of the way.
“What is wrong with you?” he scolds, but he’s laughing as he slips a hand behind my neck and pulls me down for a kiss.
We get distracted for a little while—he just tastes so damn good—but then the bag crinkles beside us, and he breaks the kiss and reaches for it. A second later he tosses the box of condoms to me.
“We should probably have discussed this before, but top or bottom?”
“Anything that will have us both coming,” I declare, gaze fixed on his nipples. His chest hair is surprisingly sparse, given how thick the hair on his head is, and his nipples are dark pink and hard and look like little candies I want to suck.
“You’re versatile?” he asks, and I hesitate, because… not really. But I don’t hate bottoming, and I really will do anything this afternoon if it means being with Jason.
He’s watching me now with a sneaky smile on his puffy, delicious lips. “What’s your preference?”
“Topping,” I admit. “But I don’t mind bottoming occasionally.” Fuck, this really is something we should have discussed. Jason’s used to being in charge at work, just like me—does that carry over into his sex life?
“Good, because I love to bottom.” He nods to the condoms. “Get one on,” he commands, bossy bottom that he is, opening the bottle of lube, but I’m frozen, watching with my mouth open as he pours lube onto his fingers and slicks himself up.
He’s. So. Fucking. Hot.
It’s not until I feel myself beginning to drool that I snap back to reality. He wants me to do him. I want to do him. What the hell am I just sitting here for?
I tear into the condom box and get myself suited up in record time. Jason’s eyes are on me as he fucks himself with his fingers, and I’m so hard I almost can’t bear it, but there’s one thing I want—really want, desperately want—before I fuck him.
I lean down and lick his dick.
His groan is deep, guttural. “Don’t,” he warns. “I’m so close, and if I come, I’ll be too sensitive for… and I really want you to….” He seems unable to finish sentences, and I love that.
“I just wanted a taste,” I promise. “There’s plenty of time for more later. We have all day.”
His movements falter, and a shadow crosses his expression.
“What?” I ask, concerned. “What’s wrong?”
He hesitates, and I move back a few inches and straighten.
“Do you not want…?”
“No, I do,” he hastens to assure me. “But… I’m not thirty anymore. You said we have all day, but it might be all day before I can….”
Oh.
Is that all?
“Then we spend the day kissing and fooling around until you can,” I say, shrugging. “It still feels good, right, even if you take longer to—”
“Yes,” he interrupts.
“Right, so I can still lick you all over. It’s better this way, actually, because I’ll have time to really explore and get my fill. I love the taste of you and—”
This time he cuts me off with his mouth on mine.
I’ve said already how amazing kissing him is, but it bears repeating. I honestly don’t care if he goes off like a rocket right now, because it means I can spend a couple hours kissing him until he’s ready to go again.
Although….
I break the kiss and bend again to lavish some attention on his hard, leaking cock. It’s a little longer than mine, not as thick, maybe, and leans a little to the left. It’s also the best thing I’ve ever tasted, except maybe for Jason’s lips, and I can’t get enough, licking around the head before taking it into my mouth for a couple of hard sucks.
The noise that explodes from Jason makes me feel like a superhero, and I’m seriously tempted to keep going… but he’s already slicked himself up, and I also want desperately to be inside him. There are going to be plenty of opportunities to suck him dry. This first time we’re together, I want to be buried in his ass.
I give him one final lick and draw back. He’s panting, lips parted, eyes glazed, looking hot as fuck. “You got a preferred position?” I don’t care how I do him.
He blinks a couple times, then draws his knees up and opens them wide, displaying everything he’s got.
I swallow hard. His hole is pink and glistening with lube, and I’ve never seen anything so inviting.
Leaning over, I steal another kiss from his lips, then kneel between his legs and position the head of my cock at his opening, tracing along his crack. His indrawn breath is like music to my ears.
Slowly, so slowly because I want to savor every second of this, I breach him, feeling the initial resistance and then the give as I slide inside. He’s hot and tight, and it’s honestly everything I can do to keep myself from coming right this instant. I keep my movements slow, both because I don’t want to hurt him and because I don’t want to go off too soon.
“Dimi,” he grits out through clenched teeth, “I’m not a virgin and I’m not delicate. Get a move on.”
Huffing a laugh, I adjust myself, draw back a little, and thrust home.
We both groan, and it feels so good that I do it again.
And again.
Soon I’ve established a nice rhythm that has us both panting and moaning. I alternate between the incredible sight of my dick sliding in and out of Jason’s ass and the incredible sight of his face as I fuck him. I’m a convert to the missionary position, because watching his every reaction while he’s wrapped around me is hotter than anything else, ever.
Except maybe…
“Touch yourself,” I gasp. I’m not going to last much longer, and I want to see him come.
He opens his eyes and focuses on me for a moment, and something he sees makes him smile, a secret, smug little smile. He reaches between us and grabs his cock, squeezing, his eyes rolling back, and suddenly I feel him tightening around me.
“Ungh… Jason,” I manage, and he lets out a breathy chuckle, then moans when I change angles and nail his prostate.
Moments later, he’s spraying cum over both of us, and just the sight of his O face is enough to make me lose it.
***
I’m lying half on Jason, half on the mattress, sated, sweaty, and drowsy, enjoying the repetitive stroke of his fingers through the hair at my nape, and I think I’ve been ruined for sex with anyone else, ever.
That must have been a fluke, right? A one-off thing as a result of the weeks of slowly escalating tension between us and the adrenaline of the day?
Maybe we should go again to make sure. I can make good on my promise to lick him all over.
As soon as I can move again.
“Dimi?”
“Mmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
I stir and roll a little reluctantly off him and turn so I can see his face. Soon we’ll need to go clean up, but I like this quiet time with him. “Sure.”
“It’s about your name.”
That gets my attention. I don’t know what I was expecting him to be thinking about right now, but my name isn’t it.
“What about my name?”
He moves, propping himself up on an elbow, and blinks lazily at me. “I like it, but none of your brothers and sisters have names like it.”
Oh. Is that all? I smile at him. “My great-grandfather’s name was Dimitri. He died about six weeks before I was born, and Gram asked my parents if they’d give me his name as a middle name or something to show respect. They liked the name, so….” I shrug. “The shortened form is because Patrick and Cait were too lazy to say it properly when I was a baby, and it stuck. My siblings’ names were all just picked from a baby name book or whatever TV show Mom was watching.”
Jason looks fascinated. “So your gram is, what, Russian?”
“Ukrainian,” I correct. Gram’s quite sensitive about that.
“Her father, who I’m named after, was some big deal diplomat in Berlin in the years after WWII. Gramps was stationed there with the army at the time, and he and Gram met. This was before East and West Berlin were so strictly separated. They fell in love, and by the time he was due to come back to the States, they’d already been married for months.”
“So she came with him and said goodbye to her family?”
“Yeah.” I always feel a pang when I think how Gram must have felt, leaving behind everything to come to a new place where she knew only one person. “They didn’t know then how difficult it would become to stay in touch with her family. At the time, they planned to visit back and forth—not often, of course, but a couple times a decade, maybe.”
“But the Cold War got in the way?”
I nod. “Gram never got to see her family again after she left Germany. They managed to exchange letters for a while, so she knew they’d moved back to Kiev, but things got sketchy for a long time. They did make contact again after the end of the Cold War, and she spoke to her parents on the phone quite a few times before they died.”
He lies back down. “I wasn’t paying a lot of attention to politics back then, but I still remember what a big deal it was when the wall came down.”
I say nothing. I literally wasn’t born then, so I have no story about where I was when I heard and what it meant to me. I asked Patrick once—he was nearly ten at the time, and even though he was too young to realize what it really meant, he knew that Gram had family he’d never met because of the Cold War, and he was aware of how excited Gram and Gramps and Mom and Dad were.
Jason seems to realize why I’ve gone quiet, because he turns on his side and his gaze searches my face. “Is it weird for you that I was partying and beginning my career when you were an infant?”
I actually take a minute to think about it, because before this moment, it never occurred to me exactly how many years there are between us.
“No,” I say finally. “I hadn’t thought about the fact that your growing up experiences will have been very different from mine, but couldn’t that be the case even if we were the same age?”
Follow My Lead: A Joy Universe Novel Page 10