by Roan Parrish
“Wonder?”
“If you know that I don’t want a relationship, and you wouldn’t just be thinking of it as sex, then where does that leave us? Because it kind of seems like it’d leave us someplace where you end up feeling like I’ve betrayed you, and I end up losing my friend.”
“That won’t happen, I swear,” I said, but my heart was pounding because with a few sentences Will had pretty much blown to smithereens every avenue I’d thought we might walk down together. “I want to—we like each other, right?” Will hesitated but nodded grudgingly. “And we have fun.” Another nod. “And you know we have a… like, a thing.” I ran my hands up his thighs and felt the energy spark between us. Will bit his lip, eyes never leaving my face. “Sooo….” I nudged his knees a little farther apart and stepped closer, leaning in to kiss him.
“You sure?” he murmured, eyelids going heavy.
“Yeah.”
And this time when I kissed him it was with the full weight of knowledge behind it that this was really going to happen. This wasn’t just We’re kissing now. It wasn’t on an against-all-odds hope that Will might suddenly be taken over by his passion for me and push things further. It was a kiss with intent.
He slid his hands up my arms, squeezing my biceps, holding us together and keeping us apart at the same time, and I pressed myself against him, trying to cast my vote on which way things should go.
“God damn it, Leo!” Will bit off, leaning backward. “Are you sure we should do this?” He looked savage, sprawled across his own counter, hair mussed, and pupils dilated.
Lust blasted through me, but his question seemed sincere, and I made it my duty to obliterate every doubt he might have. I threw myself back against him, kissing him with everything I had.
And Will came alive. His hands were in my hair and running up and down my spine. He kissed like a whirlwind. There was nothing tentative about it anymore. He finally kissed me like he meant it. After a few minutes of a make-out session so hot I was trying not to come in my pants, I pulled away long enough to tug Will down off the counter and over to the couch.
Nothing about being with Milton or Terrence, the guy from my statistics class last year, could have prepared me for how things would be with Will. It was like every sensation I’d ever had was amplified, every millimeter of skin sensitized like it had never been touched before. I felt flushed and light-headed with lust as I buried my face in Will’s neck and kissed under his jaw.
His pulse raced beneath my mouth, and I licked along his neck, unable to get enough of his skin, his heat, his smell. I traced the shell of his ear with my tongue and licked inside, wanting to taste every inch of him.
“Ah, fuck!”
Will was wild. Not like he was trying to seduce me, but like he was desperate to get at me. I wasn’t complaining—hell no—but it was so different from the calm, detached way he’d approached things in the bedroom earlier that it was as if he were a whole different person. Though I don’t know why I was surprised that Will’s shifting personality would show itself in bed as well as out.
I’d pictured the suave Will who dressed impeccably for work, but I was getting whirlwind Will who stomped around the apartment ranting about weird stuff that I’d never imagined anyone could care about.
And I loved it. Because it was real. I wasn’t just another nameless hookup, and this wasn’t something that Will could shrug off, deny, sideline.
His pale skin was perfect, just a few of those dark beauty marks clustered near his belly button and one near his left nipple. I kissed it, sucking his nipple into my mouth, and then bit it lightly. Will groaned and let me kiss my way to his other nipple before he lost patience and rolled us so he was on top of me and pulled my pants down to my knees. He tapped my hip bone.
“You’re so damn skinny,” he muttered.
“Wow, not the moment I want to feel self-conscious,” I gasped.
Will kissed the spot he’d tapped, his lips a soft apology, and I groaned as his chin hit my crotch. I was ridiculously hard just from kissing him. He pressed his face to my crotch and inhaled my smell.
“Fuck, that’s the sexiest thing anyone’s ever done to me,” I said.
Will let out a scornful breath. “Yeah, not the moment to remind me you’re basically untouched.”
“I’m not untouched! I—” But then he pulled my pants down and swallowed my erection, and suddenly it didn’t seem like a point that really needed to be made just at that moment.
His mouth was hot, and he slid a hand between my thighs and started rolling my balls in this way that made me feel like I was going to die.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” I said. I twined my fingers in his hair as he sucked me, trying to look down and see myself sliding in and out of his gorgeous mouth, but my brain couldn’t do more than two things at once, apparently, and touch Will’s hair and have my mind blown were currently occupying those slots.
“Will, fuck, Will,” I gasped. I could track the pleasure as it spread across my skin, from my dick and balls up my spine, curling in the pit of my stomach and flushing my chest and throat with heat, tingling down my trembling thighs. Then, in an instant, it all coalesced into a giant heartbeat that throbbed and then exploded, sending shocks of pleasure through me, leaving me light-headed and gasping as the world was swallowed in blackness, my awareness dwindling to my pulsing dick and the halo of Will’s hair.
I heard a sound from a long way off. An undignified whimpering sound that I didn’t want to believe was coming from me.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, I meant to warn you,” I slurred.
Will raised his eyebrows at me and wiped his mouth. That tore another groan out of me because holy mother, Will had just sucked me off, and I could see the evidence of it gleaming on his perfect fucking lips. It was too much.
“Oh god, shit, I just came in like five seconds didn’t I?” I put my arm over my eyes as I flushed, this time from embarrassment rather than arousal.
Will snorted and then his mouth was on mine and I could taste the salt of my release on his tongue. The thought of us mingled together like that totally turned me on all over again, and I moaned into his mouth. Will reached down, and I jerked at his touch.
“Jesus,” he muttered, but it was fond, appreciative. His kisses were less desperate now, and he positioned us so we were lying on our sides on the couch facing each other.
“Take your pants off too?” I couldn’t believe I’d come before he was even naked.
Will shimmied his pants down, and I slung a leg over his hip, pressing our erections together as we kissed slowly.
“Mmmm,” Will murmured. I slid a hand down and felt the curve of his ass, pressed him tighter into me, making him shiver. So I did it again, squeezing the round muscle and digging my fingertips in. Will gasped into my mouth and grabbed my ass too. We ground together, the heat building between us, legs tangled together, hips pumping, chests and stomachs sliding together, tongues entwined, every place we touched its own warm point of connection.
I held his face to mine and kissed him, the taste and smell of him gradually taking over my mouth and nose, settling on me like a private atmosphere.
Will pulled my hand between his legs and used both our hands to stroke us off. I came again when he ran a finger over the tip of my cock, gasping as it twitched, spent.
Will smiled wolfishly, his eyes raking over me. He was flushed and panting, his erection throbbing against my hip.
“Ah, youth,” he said. And I made a new resolution on the spot. That, inexperience or no, the next time I had the chance I was going to make Will Highland beg me to let him come. I grinned at him and flipped him onto his back, sliding his dick between my thighs, grinding us together even though my sensitive skin protested.
“Oh fuck,” he muttered, his breath coming faster. I leaned down and put my lips to his throat. His pulse was racing, artery throbbing with every heartbeat. I nipped at his neck, and he grabbed for my ass, pulling me tighter against him. I bit hard
er, felt his pulse jump under my tongue. Then I kissed him with everything I had, squeezing his cock with my thighs. I bore down on him, bending my knees so I could squeeze his perfect ass.
Splayed on the couch, his pale skin and blond hair made the black leather look almost sinister. His chest was flushed, his throat bruised from my mouth, and his pupils blown wide. I dragged my fist up and down his erection, tightening my grip until Will moaned and reached for me. I kissed him once more, then set a brutal pace, jerking him off until his eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open.
When Will came, every muscle tightened, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His cry was silent. He looked like he was in pain, his jaw clenched and his mouth in a snarl.
“You are seriously the worst at choosing produce ever.”
As I was unpacking bags from the market, Will was pulling certain things toward him and assembling a pile on the counter.
“These are all bruised. This shit’s like misshapen or something. And—are these all broken?” He pointed to the chocolate bars. “Do you shop blindfolded? No, even blindfolded you could feel that these are broken!”
I squirmed, putting a box of pasta in the cabinet and cheese and eggs in the refrigerator.
“Seriously, Leo, have you never been grocery shopping before? Oh shit, you haven’t, have you?”
“I have,” I couldn’t resist saying, no matter how many times I’d tried to learn the lesson that if I responded to Will, he’d eventually get any information out of me that he wanted.
He was gaping at me, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“I just… I don’t want them to get thrown away… so….”
“What?”
“Well, I just worry that no one else will buy them if they’re a little bruised or funny looking. You know. People always buy the most perfect ones. And I feel sorry for the ones that aren’t because maybe people won’t want them.”
“You buy the fucked-up ones on purpose,” Will said slowly.
“They’re not fucked-up—they’re still totally good! They shouldn’t have to get thrown away just because they look funny.”
Will was shaking his head at me.
“Oh my god, you personify produce.”
I started to say something, to defend myself. But he backed me against the counter and slid close, kissing me until my mouth felt as bruised as those rescued apples.
After dinner a few days later, Will groaned as a text appeared on his phone, and stalked over to the intercom to buzz someone up, muttering.
“Fucking Gus!” he said, like his coworker’s presence was the most outrageous intrusion he could imagine.
“Did he just show up?”
“No, he told me earlier.”
“Jesus, you’re so cute,” I said. Will’s grouchy, shocked at the burden of other people thing really did it for me. It was like, maybe since he let me hang around and didn’t seem as horrified by me as he did by others, then I was special.
I don’t know what I’d pictured, exactly. But based on what Will had said about Gus I had definitely not imagined the totally average-looking white guy in his midforties who walked in the door wearing gray corduroys, a red-and-blue sweater, and a black overcoat. Will had called him arrogant, pushy, obsessive—hell, he’d referred to him as Captain Ahab at some point. This guy looked like… an accountant.
“Gus, Leo. Leo, this is Gus Martelli.”
Gus smiled at me and shook my hand. I suddenly felt very weird being here, dressed in sweats and one of Will’s perfectly cut white T-shirts (which was totally not perfectly cut for me).
“Um, should I just….” I gestured toward the bedroom, to indicate giving them some privacy, but immediately blushed because that made it seem like I was a fuck toy or something, waiting for Will in bed when he was done with his business meeting.
Will snorted like he could read my mind.
“You’re fine here. If you’re interested, that is. I’m certainly not sure whether I am or not yet. You want a beer, Martelli?”
“Oh, it’s Martelli now, huh?” Gus turned to me. “He only calls me that when he’s trying to remind me that we aren’t friends.” He winked, like we shared a secret about Will.
“I don’t know why I’d need to remind you of something so completely self-evident, but whatever. Beer?”
“Sure.”
“Want one?” Will asked me, hand on my arm.
“Oh. Um, okay. Thanks.” I didn’t really, but I wanted to feel like I belonged there with them.
As Will took Gus’ coat and got beers, Gus started complaining about things at work. They were things Will had complained to me about before, but he didn’t agree with Gus, just let him talk.
“God, do you ever find yourself thinking, ‘How the hell did this become my life’?” Gus said finally when he’d tired himself out.
“No,” Will said. “The only people who think that are the ones who assume their lives will turn out great from the beginning.”
Gus opened his mouth, then shut it again and nodded, like he was evaluating Will’s mood and recalibrating.
We sat at the kitchen table because that’s where Will put the beers, as if he wanted no confusion that this was a business discussion.
“Okay,” Will said, leaning back and crossing his legs, drinking deeply from the beer. “Convince me this isn’t idiotic.”
I decided I liked Gus when, rather than bristling at Will’s challenge or taking it as a criticism, he leaned forward, excited, and started to talk.
“Okay, so,” he began. And then he proceeded to lay out what sounded to me, at least, like a pretty compelling list of reasons why he and Will were not only qualified to strike out on their own but would actually benefit from it, both in terms of money and job satisfaction.
Will listened, beer dangling between two casual fingers and eyes slightly narrowed, but I thought he was intrigued at the very least. He wasn’t doing the impatient thing he does where his jaw and nostrils are tensed as if stuck in a constant inhale trying to draw breath to interrupt something that bored or irritated him. Little by little he started asking questions, leaned forward slightly, and got another beer for him and for Gus without asking if he wanted one.
When he sat back down at the table, he held his beer out for me. I took a sip and passed it back and he barely looked at me, but he’d known. Known that I wouldn’t want another but had wanted me to know he hadn’t forgotten about me.
Will herded Gus out when he’d finished his beer, and cleaned up the empties.
“So, what do you think?”
“You want my opinion?” I asked, startled.
Will didn’t respond, just wiped down the counters.
“Um. Well, I don’t really know much about your business, and… you’re way better at reading people than me….”
“I know that. Just, what did you think?”
“It seemed great. Like, I don’t get why you wouldn’t want to do it, great.”
Will sighed. “Yeah.”
“So… why wouldn’t you?”
Will was staring out the window like maybe the answer was out there.
“It’s a lot,” he said slowly. “To just start over. Start from scratch.”
“Yeah, I know, right?”
He looked over, startled, as if he’d forgotten that starting over from scratch was exactly what I’d done when I moved here.
“Jesus god,” Will muttered. Sweat trickled down his chest, and he clawed at the sheets.
For thirty minutes I’d kept him on the edge, touching, licking, biting, kissing, but not letting him come.
I had a theory that Will was secretly a hedonist, but he disguised it as an insistence that he just had good taste. It was little things that’d made me think so. The way he inhaled from his coffee cup before taking the first sip of the morning. He bought beans from a shop on the corner and ground them himself. He boiled water and poured it over the coffee, taking note of the time so he got the extraction right. With most things he was all abo
ut convenience, but he liked his coffee this way, and he liked the ritual of making it.
It was other things too, though. How he’d adjust a flower in an arrangement on a restaurant table to make it more pleasing. How he kept the heat turned a few degrees warmer than was practical so that he could sleep naked in the winter because he liked the feel of the sheets on his skin. The way he leaned into my hand if I touched his hair, like a cat deepening a caress. He loved food, too, even though he ate like an animal, his terrible table manners oddly out of step with the rest of his polished persona.
I knew that Will was way more experienced than me, that he’d been with a ton of men who were probably better than I was in bed. But ever since the other night, I couldn’t get this fantasy out of my head. The fantasy where Will came totally undone. Where he dropped his guard and forgot that he was the sexpert and I basically knew jack squat. Where he begged me. Gave himself over to me and showed me something vulnerable. Something real. Something that he didn’t show any of the other men he was with.
Because if I could make sex totally satisfying for him then he wouldn’t need to go sleep with all those other people. Right?
So in pursuit of my fantasy, I’d decided to test the theory. No way was I going to be able to fuck Will as well as those other men with a ton of experience. Not yet, anyway. So I had to use other means at my disposal to get him so wound up that by the time I did fuck him, he was desperate for it. And so far I thought it was going pretty well.
At first he’d been all, “What are you doing, Leo? Quit it and fuck me.” Once he realized that I was committed to driving him out of his mind, though, he’d relaxed a little bit.
Will’s skin was like velvet, his hair like silk, and I could’ve touched him forever, even without the added bonus that it was making him fall apart.
I traced the line of his ribs with my tongue, feeling his heartbeat beneath his flushed skin. Every breath and swallow sank me deeper into the sense that I knew this man whose body I was exploring. I knew him, I saw him, I could touch him however I wanted, and he’d let me. Will, who was usually bossy and impatient and a know-it-all, was lying on the bed, hair clumped with sweat and eyes blazing, completely open to me.
