"I will." He sighed, rocked Jenny slowly, and hung up, searching for Jeannie's number. The baby was sleeping, and he thought she felt cooler to the touch.
Please, let the antihistamine work.
***
Drake tucked Maggie in, and kissed her forehead. "Sleep tight, sweet girl."
Her eyelids fluttered, but she was all but asleep already. Thank God. He'd been basically running the show for two days while Slayde dealt with Jenny and he was utterly exhausted. How had Slayde done this with three all on his own for just weeks before he'd shown up?
He headed downstairs, hoping Slayde had felt well enough to get something better than hot dogs together for adult supper. Poor fucker was covered in fire ant blisters.
Slayde was at the kitchen table, phone and a cup of coffee in front of him. "I ordered Chinese."
"How are you doing, man?" He sat down next to Slayde.
"Good. Everyone sleeping?"
The man had huge bags under his eyes. Mindy had taken one look at Slayde over Skype and just burst in to tears.
"Yes. It's time to relax. Maybe go to bed early after supper." God, why did everything he said to Slayde sound dirty?
"Yeah. We'll see. I'm drinking my coffee."
They still hadn't talked, even once, about that night in the backyard. It made him a little crazy. At the same time, the longer they didn't talk about it, the more he could pretend it didn't happen, that he was still safely in the closet. He couldn't even say that he worried Slayde would out him. The man was decent, honestly decent. He just wasn't used to anyone knowing, especially someone he saw every single day.
A knock came to the door and Slayde stood, moving slow toward the front door.
"Sit down, Slayde." Stubborn fucker. "I'll get the damn door."
"Yeah? Thanks." Slayde made it through to the couch and sort of collapsed down.
He shook his head. Super Nanny had to figure out when to let things slip a little. He paid for their food and grabbed a couple of plates before going to the living room. Slayde was sprawled out, coffee balanced on his belly, sound asleep.
He put the supper stuff down on the table and grabbed the coffee, looking down at Slayde. Even with the blisters Slayde looked… sexy.
Bright eyes blinked up at him. "Hey."
"Hey. Supper's here."
"Oh. Oh, sorry. I'm dozy."
"Eat first and then you can go to bed, yeah?"
"Oh, I need to get some stuff done. I haven't even looked at emails, anything."
"You know the world's not going to fall apart if you take the night off." Slayde worked too fucking hard. "It's been a rough few days."
"No shit on that." Those poor blistered hands worked to open the containers. God, that had to hurt.
He grunted. "Let me." And if the words came out more growly than he intended, it wasn't because he was mad at the man.
"I'm sorry. I'm just a wreck."
"You're allowed. You've got back up now, right?" He opened the containers and handed over a fork.
"Thank God." Slayde smiled at him. "You're a life-saver, man."
Oh. Oh, damn. That felt good to hear. Their first week together, he'd thought Slayde was gonna hate him forever. He grinned and gave Slayde a wink. "Good, good. It's on my job description."
"It sort of is, isn't it? Huh."
"Yep. I might not be on the job right now, but that kind of thing is ingrained." He sat, grabbed one of the open boxes at random and grabbed another fork; he'd never gotten the hang of chopsticks, which Mindy had always given him shit about. Of course she was his sister -- she gave him shit about everything.
Slayde ate slowly, carefully.
"We got stuff for those blisters?"
"I put vinegar on them, but they're busting."
"Sounds nasty. You need me to go find something at the drug store?"
"I don't know what to put on them, to be honest."
"They've got that allergy cream." He gave Slayde a wry look. "I chased a perp through some stinging plant a few years back."
"Oh, man. Ow."
"Yeah, it wasn't pleasant. But I could get you what I used."
"After we eat, maybe. I won't make you miss out on… What is that?"
"Uh…" He looked at it. "Something orange."
Slayde snorted, obviously trying to fight the laughter.
"Fuck off, man. You're the one who ordered, I'm just eating it."
"Listen to you! I'm going to tell Christian you cursed."
"Shit no, my abs still hurt from the other day." He patted his belly. He was getting out of shape.
"I bet. You had a lot to do."
"It's gonna take me time to remember not to cuss."
"Yeah. It's a challenge." Slayde nibbled at the crispy chicken from his dish.
"That looks good." He reached over and forked a piece of meat from Slayde's box.
"It is. Crispy. Spicy."
"It's good." He stole another piece.
"It's mine." Slayde winked, but didn't pull the container away.
"You won't share?" He snagged two more pieces. "I'll share mine."
"Is yours good?" Slayde stole a bite.
"You tell me." He fed Slayde the next one.
Slayde's eyes went wide, cheeks going pink. "It's tart." Oh fuck, look at that.
"It is." His voice had gone all husky.
"I. You're not drunk, are you?"
"What?" He sat back and cleared his throat. Jesus, Slayde made him forget his own fucking name.
"I just don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you."
He blinked at Slayde. Taking advantage of him? "I'm not drunk."
"Okay. Can I have another bite?"
He hadn't even had anything to drink. At all. He forked a piece of his orange chicken, or whatever it was, and held the fork up to Slayde's full, red lips. Were guys allowed to have lips that soft looking?
Slayde opened up, tugged the bite off the fork. Fuck.
Drake found himself leaning slowly closer. Slayde's eyes met his, straight-forward, sure, not letting him hide from this. Jesus fuck. They hadn't even talked about last time yet. But it had happened, so Slayde already knew he was gay. So he just kept moving in, letting those lips draw his own like the proverbial bees to honey.
They were sweet from the food, citrusy, and just a little spicy. Need slammed through him and it took everything he had not to push Slayde back into the couch and hump like he was starving for it.
"Fuck, you taste good." One of those hurt hands landed on his thigh.
The words made him groan. He was used to wham bam, no kissing, no talking, just getting off encounters. Slayde didn't seem in a hurry at all. Drake licked at Slayde's lips and they opened for his tongue to slip inside.
Oh, fuck. He explored, tongue sliding on Slayde's teeth, tickling the roof of the man's mouth. He moaned this time, the experience unfuckingbelievable. He hadn't ever kissed a man like this, not long and lazy, like he wasn't in a hurry.
His hand came up, cupping Slayde's cheek, fingertips brushing underneath Slayde's eye, and Slayde leaned into his touch, sighing softly. Goddamn.
Jesus fuck, some part of him was sure he'd come, just from this. One kiss became another and another, the touches making him fucking breathless. He slid his free hand over Slayde's thigh, letting it rest there, mirroring Slayde's hand on his leg.
"God." Slayde moaned for him, eyes meeting his, lips moving against his. "So warm."
"Never…" He let the words fade away. He didn't want Slayde to think he was a monk or anything.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"I don't kiss," he muttered, leaning back in for another kiss.
Slayde, bless him, didn't argue, just opened up and let him in. His hand slipped to the back of Slayde's neck, tilting it so he could get more. Slayde fucking tasted so good and it went straight to Drake's damn cock. Fuck. Fuck, this was… He could kiss this man for days.
You don't kiss, mocked a little voice in h
is head. He told it to shut the fuck up and slid his tongue alongside Slayde's, another moan that came from him filling the air.
His hand started moving, sliding up and down Slayde's thigh, thumb pushing in as he massaged. He could feel the heat of Slayde's leg through his sweats. God. Fuck. Slayde smelled like baby-powder, but under that. Hell, under that was pure, spicy male.
Those lean thighs opened, spread for him, for his fingers. Fuck. Yes. He leaned into Slayde, his fingers moving toward the cock pushing at the soft material.
"Want you."
He knew that. He could feel it. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.
Drake touched Slayde through his sweats. He wanted to fish Slayde out, make him come, but he was distracted by the way their lips were clinging. Besides, he didn't want it to be over, didn't want to be dealing with the aftermath. This. This was good, so good, and he wanted to revel in it.
He let go of Slayde's prick and moved his hand up to rub the trim belly. God, Slayde's muscles jumped and jerked and rippled for him. He pushed the T-shirt away, touching the skin directly. Slayde moaned, and almost landed in his lap. He leaned back, encouraging it to happen.
"This is okay?" Slayde's cock was against his belly, hard as a stone.
Was Slayde not on board?
"You want me." He could feel the evidence of that.
"God, yes."
"Then what's the problem?"
"No problem. No problem at all."
"Good." He grabbed Slayde by the back of his head and brought the man in for another kiss.
Slayde moaned and moved closer, beginning to rock and ride against him. Oh, fuck, that felt good. Heat and hardness against heat and hardness. Slayde started offering him those drugging kisses again. He ran his hands up under Slayde's T-shirt, fingers sliding on the man's spine.
"Come to bed with me?" Slayde asked.
Yeah, bed would probably be less likely to be interrupted by kids. He nodded.
"Okay." Slayde stood up, grabbed the food and put it in the kitchen, locked the doors.
Jesus Christ. They were doing this. On purpose and without being desperate and drunk.
"You okay?" Slayde met his eyes at the bottom of the stairs.
Drake nodded and his voice was gruff when he answered. "Let's do this."
Slayde's hand slid down his arm, his fingers were squeezed.
"My bed's bigger," he pointed out.
"That's Mindy's bed. I can't do that, Drake."
"You better not have a twin."
Slayde's head tilted. "What?"
"Your bed? If we're going to do this there, it had better not be on a twin bed. Because then we might as well go back to the couch."
"Oh." Slayde looked at him, then chuckled. "I thought you were asking if I had a brother, which I don't. I have sisters."
"I'm not interested in your sisters."
"Good. They're both married with babies."
"Good for them." He grabbed Slayde's hand and all but dragged him up the stairs.
Slayde had a queen-sized bed, the man's bedroom lush and crazy with colors and fabrics and… Christ, the man was a queen. Drake looked around, kind of stunned.
"You okay?"
He shook himself. "Yeah. I am.'
"You sure? You looked a little freaked. I mean, I know it's a wild mess, but I don't have much room and this is all my stuff."
He tugged Slayde in, focusing on how good it felt to kiss the man. That was so much better than thinking. If he could touch, rub against this fine, solid body, the rest would work itself out, right? Right.
His hands wrapped around Slayde's ass as he plundered that amazing mouth. Slayde moved like there was music playing, like they were dancing. It was the sexiest thing he'd ever felt.
He worked them slowly toward the bed, most of his focus on the rub of their bodies, on the taste of Slayde on his tongue. He'd never luxuriated in another man, never spent time exploring, kissing, tasting. He could get used to this. Which was maybe a bad idea.
Thinking too much, though, that was the worst idea, so he tried not to, let himself tug at Slayde's T-shirt and focus on the feeling of that warm, bare skin under his fingers. Slayde was smooth, just the barest line of gold hair on the flat belly. He smoothed his fingers across the fine muscles, then scraped lightly with his fingernails, not even enough to leave a mark, just enough to feel.
He received a soft, husky laugh for his troubles. He grinned. Fuck, there'd never been laughter before.
His leg hit the mattress and he thought that was a good thing, maybe a needy thing. He let himself fall toward it, holding on to Slayde and bringing the man with him. They bounced and Slayde straddled him as they landed, their bodies meeting hard.
They'd been going so slow and easy, he hadn't realized how hard he was, how badly he needed. Not until just now and he humped up against Slayde's body, a moan dragging out of him.
"I want to suck you." The words were almost enough to make him cream his jeans.
"Fuck, yes." No fucking way he was turning down making that particular little jack-off fantasy come true.
Slayde scooted down, and they got Drake's jeans opened, his cock popping out.
"Fuck." He seemed stuck on that one word, but he really didn't have any others as he watched intently.
"Man, you are hung." Slayde leaned down, cheek sliding on his prick.
He didn't know which pleased him most -- the compliment or the touch. Oh, who was he fooling? Nobody'd ever taken their time; Slayde's touches were fucking magical. Drake moaned, hips shifting restlessly.
"I won't leave you hanging." Slayde kissed his balls, licked the base of his cock.
He nodded. "I know." He did. Slayde had made him feel so damn good the night they'd danced.
Slayde settled against his legs, then his cock was eased back, those lips wrapping around the tip. A low, needy moan tore out of him. Shit, when was the last time anyone had sucked him? And this wasn't some bathroom quickie. Fuck. He was going to explode.
Long fingers wrapped around his balls, tugging gently, easing him back from the edge before the suction started. He took a long breath, and then another, his hands opening and closing on the covers. Slayde took him in, tongue sliding on the shaft, then backed off, working the tip. He felt that, all through him.
He made his right hand move, finding Slayde's head, his fingers sliding over it. When Slayde hummed for him, he felt it through his entire body. He patted Slayde's head again, trying really hard not to grab on to Slayde's scalp and hold him in place. Then Slayde's head started bobbing, moving up and down, lips tight around the shaft of his cock.
"Oh, my God." His eyes closed tight and it took everything he had not to slam up into Slayde's mouth. Hot, tight, slick. He was in fucking heaven.
It took forever. There wasn't a hint of rushing. It was like Slayde was adoring his cock, moaning and taking it. Soft swear words came out of him, one after the other, interspersed with moans.
It was the best fucking blow job he'd had in his life. Ever.
Each motion down, Slayde took a little more of him, swallowed around him a little harder. A keening noise came out of him, his balls drawing up against his body. When Slayde's lips were spread around the base of his cock, he thought he might die.
"Fuck!" He grabbed Slayde's head and pushed in and out a few times before his balls emptied.
He felt Slayde swallowing, sucking, and pulling, drinking him down. Each swallow made him shudder, sweet aftershocks going through him.
"Mmm. Better?"
"Fucking incredible." He felt like butter melted on bread.
Slayde leaned against him for a minute, cheek on his belly. He petted Slayde's head, slowly catching his breath.
"You taste good."
He wasn't sure what to say to that. "You uh," he cleared his throat. "You needing?"
"I could use a hand, if you're up to it."
"I won't leave you hanging." He hadn't the other night, he wouldn't now.
"No, yo
u're a solid guy." Slayde climbed up his body, kissing all the way.
Each touch of Slayde's lips sparked against Drake's skin and zinged through him. He was moaning by the time their mouths met again, his hand wrapping around the solid heat between Slayde's legs. He pushed the man's sweats down all the way, wanting to feel, to see. Groaning into their kiss, he found Slayde's balls and rolled them before grabbing the hard cock. It burned against his palm and his own prick jerked, trying to fill again.
He pushed one leg between Slayde's, nudging, offering Slayde some pressure. His free hand crept up along Slayde's belly and chest, pushing the T-shirt up as he went. Slayde's skin was so warm and those little titties were hard for him, begging for his touch when he got there. He pinched lightly and Slayde groaned, body arching. He flicked his fingers across them again, and tightened his hold on Slayde's prick, the sweet length hot against his palm.
"Yeah." Slayde nodded, braced himself on the headboard and drove into his touch.
"Hot," he muttered, their lips moving together as he spoke in a half-kiss. He could lose himself in Slayde's mouth, even though he'd just come.
"Uh-huh. Don't stop."
He snorted. He wasn't going to stop. He wasn't going to think about the fact that he'd totally outed himself to the nanny, and he wasn't going to stop. If he was really lucky, he could keep not thinking through Slayde's orgasms and more of the wonderful, sense-sucking kisses.
Slayde made the most amazing, soft noises, the sounds pushing into his lips. He could easily become as addicted to those as he was to Slayde's kisses.
He wanted to touch every inch of Slayde's body. He began to lose himself in the heat and scents as his hand worked Slayde's prick, the fingers of his other hand moving wherever he could reach. Slayde had a round, hard little butt, the bunched muscle hard in his hand.
He squeezed it, squeezed Slayde's prick, too. "Come on, Slayde. Want to fucking smell you."
"Jesus, you're amazing at this, for a straight man." Heat splashed over his fingers.
He groaned at the smell and it took a couple minutes for Slayde's words to sink in. "What?"
"Huh?"
He let go of Slayde's prick, confusion going through him. "What did you say?"
"That you're amazing."
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