As he slid his hand between shorts and dick, Zeb’s groan vibrated against the wet skin on Silver’s neck. Silver had an appreciation for the calluses and new strength he’d seen in Zeb’s fingers as they wrapped around the shaft.
“You feel so good.” Zeb’s nose made the trip up from collarbone to ear this time, along with a tickling amount of breath. “Smell so good.”
Silver couldn’t come up with a word at first, but as Zeb repeated that motion, it hit him. Nuzzling. Like snuggling squared. One arm holding him against Zeb’s chest, the shivery goodness of Zeb’s face in his neck, and the sweet pull of Zeb’s hand on his cock. Silver wanted to stay right here. Let the warmth build to heat, then explode into fire as they rocked together.
He’d closed his eyes as Zeb started to stroke but snuck a look at them in the mirror. Zeb’s soft hair was part of what tickled Silver’s shoulder, Zeb’s palm resting on Silver’s chest over his heart.
Silver knew what he looked like having sex. Hard not to when there were videos loose online, gifs and screen caps. But his face looked different in the mirror. He’d say older, or fuller—blame Eli’s cooking—but it was relaxed, which was kind of weird considering he hadn’t come yet. Maybe he was used to holding back, to stopping and starting, but that wasn’t it. It was knowing how safe it felt, knowing there wasn’t some script he had to follow, that whatever happened, he wouldn’t get this wrong.
“Mmm. My turn. I can’t wait to taste you.” Zeb stepped away to pull Silver’s shorts and boxer briefs down, one hand working the shaft as Zeb turned Silver around.
With the sudden aching hollow in Silver’s gut, only Zeb’s hand kept Silver’s dick from shriveling up. Why couldn’t they have kept going the way they were? When Zeb said that kind of stuff, Silver kept wondering if Zeb was trying to prove something, like how okay he was with Silver being positive. He hadn’t worn a condom since those few months with Zeb in New Freedom. What if he couldn’t stay hard with one on? What if he hated it?
The alternative was just as scary. Zeb sucking him may be a really hard way to transmit, but what if?
“What’s wrong?” Zeb’s brow was so wrinkled in concern Silver had to rub his thumb across it to smooth out the bumps.
Zeb smiled, but Silver thought it probably wasn’t a real one. “You want to do something else?”
Even if the smile was fake, Zeb’s voice was husky as he leaned in and cupped Silver’s face. “I could be up for it.” There was the real Zeb smile.
The accompanying tighter grip, the way his thumb rubbed just the right spot under the head of Silver’s cock, made his eyelids drop and his breath catch.
“What do you want?” Zeb blew the hot words into Silver’s ear. “I want to give it to you.”
What Silver wanted could fill a terabyte. But mostly what he wanted right then was to pin Zeb against the wall and fuck him through it.
Frustration burned at the base of Silver’s skull. Now that all the other stuff was getting better between them, there was this virus. The thing inside him that was so tiny and so fucking big at the same time.
Before he could put his hand up to ease that tension, Zeb’s fingers were there, rubbing, soothing, sifting through Silver’s hair. “Just tell me, Silver.”
If he said anything, too much would come out. How much he wanted to change what had happened. And that was never going to be possible.
Zeb pulled him in close, so that Silver’s forehead rested on Zeb’s shoulder. His hand moved from those long strokes on the shaft to palm the head and then tighter, tugging Silver back out of his head and into his body.
Zeb’s fingers and hand must have had a long memory, because that alternating pressure was making everything tight and loose inside at the same time. Silver’s hands landed on Zeb’s ass, and he squeezed.
Zeb’s hips bucked against him. “Okay.”
“But like before.” Silver’s voice came out a whisper. “Remember? When you wouldn’t let us?”
Zeb leaned back, eyes narrowed for an instant before widening as he nodded and smiled. He reached into his pocket and handed Silver a small bottle of lube before turning around and bracing his hands on the wall under the mirror. He kept his legs pressed tightly together.
Silver slicked his cock before kicking out of the rest of his clothes and wrapping an arm around Zeb’s waist, the other across his chest to steady them. Aiming at the cross of ass and thighs, Silver pressed his cock forward.
A little too cool at first, air-conditioned skin, but as he pushed harder, friction and Zeb’s body heat took over. The head drove into Zeb’s balls, and he clamped one hand over Silver’s.
“Okay?” Silver asked.
“Yeah.” Zeb clenched his muscles, warm snug flesh, the extra friction of hair teasing sensation from every bit of Silver’s cock.
He tangled his fingers with Zeb’s, then arched back and drove in, sliding in the grip of his thighs, hips slamming into his ass at the bottom of the stroke. Zeb’s muscles got impossibly tight, tighter than a fist as Silver fucked into Zeb’s balls again and again.
In the mirror, Silver watched Zeb’s face. His eyes were closed. Above his neck everything was relaxed, but the grip on Silver’s fingers and cock told him Zeb was definitely paying attention.
Silver grunted as Zeb timed a squeeze perfectly, and Zeb’s eyes shot open, a smile meeting Silver’s gaze.
Close. Everything so close in the tiny room, Zeb’s ass rubbing the base of Silver’s cock as he shoved in, all that wet texture on every inch, and the rough grip of muscles fighting his strokes.
It built fast. Rearing up inside his balls with only a few seconds of warning. He had to bite down on Zeb’s shoulder to keep the shout from echoing back up to the Inner Harbor as he shuddered, pumping hard and hot and long onto Zeb’s balls.
Silver peeled his mouth—and teeth—off Zeb’s shoulder with a wince of regret. “Sorry.”
Watching Silver in the mirror, Zeb brought the tangle of their hands from his belly to his balls and dragged their fingers through slippery come.
“That was hotter than I remember.”
“Me too.” Because it was. Zeb didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get Silver’s contaminated jizz off him. Even better, Zeb didn’t have that righteous pinch around his mouth that would have meant he was proving a point.
Movement rocked him against Zeb, sending them almost nose-first into the mirror. Now that Silver could think again, he realized his legs weren’t only shaking from a good hard come.
“We’re moving?”
Zeb’s wry smile flashed in the mirror. “Maybe I’m just that good.”
Silver tugged his slippery hand loose. “When did that start?”
“Right before you came.”
“Did anybody—uh—knock?”
“Nope.” Zeb tossed him a guest towel from the rack.
“Ha. I bet Jamie’s pissed.”
Zeb’s brow got all bumpy again. “You think he will be?”
“I fucking hope so.”
Chapter Eighteen
THE SUN left a blinding path on the water to the portside as they bounced through the wakes of other boats heading back up the bay toward the Inner Harbor. With no buildings blocking the way, the heat and light scalded the side of Silver’s face even as a cool spray misted over them.
The only thing more conspicuous than the sunset was the complete lack of reaction from Jamie. He hadn’t glanced their way or so much as mumbled anything since Silver and Zeb came out from below deck.
Maybe Gavin had threatened to never blow him again.
Eli rolled his eyes. “You could have at least brought up what you said you went down to get.”
Gavin followed Eli through the hatch. With Jamie nothing but a solid back in the captain’s chair, Quinn nodded at Silver and said, “Well, if they’re not back up in two minutes, I’m going after them.”
Gavin toted two bottles of KZ and a Pellegrino when he came up. Eli carried more cheese and bread. “I’m hungry.�
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“Maybe if you hadn’t fed the rest of the bread to the fish and brought over every seagull on the Eastern Shore, you wouldn’t be,” Quinn complained but wrapped an arm around Eli anyway.
They were at the table where Zeb and Silver had sat on the way out. Silver wanted to see what it felt like to ride at speed on the bow cushion but wasn’t interested in setting Jamie off by being in his view. And it was nice here, alone in the stern, Zeb warm on one side and the sun on the other.
As they neared the marina dock, Jamie came aft. “Gimme a hand tying up, Silver.”
Zeb put his hand on Silver’s thigh, a question, an offer, but Silver shook his head.
Whatever shit Jamie had to say, Silver could handle it.
When Jamie handed off the line, Silver stepped down onto the dock, looped the bowline around, and made a cleat knot. He looked up to see Jamie staring down.
“Nice job, kid.”
That couldn’t be all. Not from Jamie.
Jamie leaned farther over the rail. “Hope he got the deluxe treatment.”
Silver put on his best get-the-trick pout. “Yeah. He did.”
Jamie barked a laugh and stepped back from the stern.
It was twilight as they headed back to the parking lot. A shiver caught Silver by surprise.
“Did you get sunburned?” Zeb asked.
Silver pressed on his cheeks and nose. “I don’t think so. I had on sunblock.” It wasn’t a burn. It was leaving behind the warmth, the security of an afternoon on Gavin’s boat. The farther away they went, the more Silver remembered that his life was anything but settled in a sipping-champagne-on-a-yacht kind of way.
“Do you want to come back to my apartment with me?” Zeb nodded at where his Pontiac was a row away from Quinn’s Buick.
“I can’t guarantee I’m good for much but sleep.” Even as Silver said it, a yawn split his jaw.
“Duly noted.” Zeb cupped the back of Silver’s neck.
An itch between Silver’s shoulder blades reminded him they weren’t on the yacht or even in relatively gay-friendly Mount Vernon.
“Behave, boys. Remember it’s a school night.” Eli’s teasing let Silver twist away.
“We’ll just do what you would. Only better.” Then Silver remembered. Zeb would have to bring him home before he went to work. “Hey, what time do you have to be at work tomorrow?”
Quinn beeped the locks on the Buick. “Teachers have to report by seven thirty-five.”
“You’d have to bring me all the way back to Mount Washington at six thirty.”
Zeb laughed. “You make it sound like a fate worse than death.”
“As I remember, you really like your sleep.”
“Some things change.” Zeb shrugged.
“For Chri—crying out loud, there’s an easy solution. Zeb sleeps at our house and we drive in tomorrow together.” Quinn so had a head start on the crotchety-old-man routine. But it was a nice offer.
“I need some stuff from my apartment.”
“We have lots of lube.” Eli’s voice was full of bright innocence.
“I think he meant like a tie and pants, Eli. I’ll go with you.” Silver took a step toward Zeb’s car.
“You’ll fuck and fall asleep and end up with the hassles of morning commuting.” Quinn’s hand on Silver’s shoulder pulled him back. “Evaluations are coming up. I want you to keep your job.” Quinn directed that at Zeb. “And I promised the judge you were staying with me,” he said to Silver.
Silver was about to sneer a Seriously? but the look on Quinn’s face changed his mind.
He did take it seriously.
As Silver buckled himself in the back seat, he let out a quick laugh.
“What?” Eli turned to face him.
“I’m wondering if Quinn’s going to make him sleep on the couch.”
IN THE car, Silver had been so drowsy he’d doubted if he’d still be awake when Zeb got there. Now, curled up in the squishy chair in Quinn’s living room Silver had adopted as his space, Christmas anticipation and test-failure dread battled it out for control in his stomach. Either way, he was worried about keeping down the PB&J he’d scarfed when they came in.
Spending the night with Zeb was straight out of Silver’s dreams at sixteen. But that might as well have been a lifetime ago.
Maybe he should go upstairs and see how his dick felt about a layer of latex. Then at least he would be spared embarrassment if they got there. After the last three years, he’d thought he didn’t have any shame left. Turned out it was because of the absence of the one person who could make him this self-conscious.
A car came down the street, and Silver turned to look through the front window. “Awww. He’s so cute. It’s like it’s his first date.” Eli flung his head onto Quinn’s lap with an exaggerated sigh.
“Awww. Shut the fuck up.” Silver matched Eli’s singsong tone.
Silver didn’t have a sibling. Never met his “godless” cousins from New York. Casting Eli and Quinn as Mom and Dad was too bizarre outside of mockery, but Silver had to wonder what it might have been like if his parents weren’t assholes. If he’d been somewhere like he saw online, where same-sex couples went to the prom and got voted cutest couple and everyone acted like it was perfectly fine. Maybe that kind of shit happened in Massachusetts, but it didn’t happen in New Freedom, Pennsylvania.
He still wouldn’t have been able to bring Zeb home—at least not for a night. He thought about Quinn’s tight-assed view of his responsibility to the judge and had no doubt if Silver were sixteen, there’d be no men in his bed.
“You ever been on a date, smartass?” Silver glanced over at Eli.
Eli sat up and made a zip-lips motion.
“I know of one,” Quinn said.
“Yeah. That about sums up my history.” Eli’s vow of silence lasted all of a tenth of a second.
“And?” Silver asked.
“He never went home,” Quinn said in the same flat tone.
“Seriously?”
Eli smirked.
“Lesbian.” Silver sneered.
“Excuse me?” Eli cupped his dick.
Quinn put an arm around him. “What does a lesbian bring on the second date?”
Eli tipped his head up at Quinn.
“A U-Haul.” To Silver, Quinn added, “It actually took him a few trips on the bus to get most of his stuff up here.”
“For which you are eternally grateful, asshole.” Eli straddled him.
Quinn’s repetition started out robotic. “For which I am eternally—unf—”
The doorbell rang and spared Silver witnessing whatever game they were about to get started as he escaped into the hall and opened the door. Only to get smacked with a paralyzing wave of unaccustomed shyness when Zeb stepped in, clothes on a hanger over one shoulder, a soft laptop case slung over the other one. “Hi.”
“Hi.” After that he was stumped for a minute, since it was as far as he’d gotten in planning what to say. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t a virgin, not by a long shot, and this wasn’t their damned wedding night. At least Zeb’s stuff gave Silver something to do. “I’ll hang that up for you.”
Zeb handed over the hanger, and Silver headed upstairs. He had it hooked over the bar in the closet in record time, but Zeb was at the door when Silver turned around.
Zeb put his computer bag on the floor under the desk. “Thanks. Is that where the magic happens?”
“Huh?” Silver looked at the bed. Not a virgin. Not a wedding night. Only—what had Marco called it?—an all-night guest.
“Eli’s photography. The digital work he does.” Zeb pointed at the NASA-like screens Eli had.
Silver was pretty sure the screens multiplied while he was sleeping. “Yeah. That’s his setup. You want a drink? Water? Iced tea?” He tried to move past Zeb.
Zeb put a hand up across the doorframe. “I want you.”
Silver stopped. Looked at Zeb. His serious eyes, his familiar face, the trace of a day’s stubble on
his chin and jaw.
Lowering his arm, Zeb went on, “I know you said you were tired. We don’t have to do anything. But I came here to be with you.”
Silver started to answer, then nodded. But he didn’t exactly know what he’d agreed to. If they were wound up, hungry for each other, he’d know how to do this. But this, being so careful with each other, it was hard. He didn’t want to be the one to fuck things up.
Zeb leaned forward and kissed him, firm deliberate pressure. The crazy anxiousness in Silver’s head went quiet. Zeb knew where they were going. That made one of them.
Lifting his head, he asked, “Do you need to take a pill before bed?”
“No.”
“Go brush your teeth. You taste like peanut butter.”
Silver grinned. “You’re a freak. How does anyone not like peanut butter?” Zeb was under the covers when Silver got back and closed the door.
“You’re not brushing your teeth?” Silver tossed his shirts and shorts on the desk chair. Sometimes he stripped the boxer briefs too. Not tonight.
Zeb blew a ha at Silver as he climbed in the bed. “I got all minty fresh and ready at my apartment. I should have asked. Do you have a side you like to sleep on?”
Silver saved himself from stupidly blurting My stomach as his brain caught up. Side of the bed, Zeb meant. Anytime Silver had slept with a guy—really slept in the unconscious sense—they’d just ended up wherever they were when they were done fucking.
“No. I don’t care.” Jealousy stung, left an itch no amount of reason could quiet. Silver settled on his back. “Do you?”
“I’ve never had any reason to get used to one.”
“Okay.” Irrational or not, Silver liked the answer.
Although it was only a bit after ten, if he were alone, he’d probably be in bed. The nights he didn’t work, he was tired enough to crash early. He reached over to switch off the lamp, and when he settled back, found Zeb wrapped around him. Warm, bare skin against his back, Zeb’s arm over Silver’s waist, a kiss on his shoulder. They fit, equal heights lining them up. It felt nice. He could deal with being the little spoon.
Bad Influence Page 21
