When Jamie reached Marcus’s building, he asked the Uber to wait. Rain had begun to fall in big, warm glops from the sky and Jamie ducked inside the humid building vestibule to escape it, pushing the wet hair out of his eyes. He rang the bell marked Deez Nuts twenty times and called Marcus again on the phone, but no one answered. Nothing. Where the hell was he?
Jamie’s entire body was an exposed nerve as the Uber navigated the streets of Long Beach toward his house. How the hell was he just supposed to go inside and pretend like everything wasn’t fucked up? Moving and thinking and breathing required a concerted effort, because all he could do was exist in the horror of that same fifteen seconds, on a loop.
The Uber pulled up in front of the Prince house and Jamie swallowed heavily, managing a gruff thank you to the driver before climbing out into the now heavy rain.
Marcus was sitting on his steps.
Hoisting a bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
He’d ruined everything.
Marcus swallowed a gulp of whiskey and it burned the edges of the pit in his stomach. The one that had been steadily yawning wider for over an hour.
Jamie was home safe. He’d made sure of it. He needed to get up and go home now.
There was zero chance that Jamie wanted him here. Not after he’d given Marcus the perfect opportunity to prove he was trying. Trying to grow into the man Jamie needed. Jamie had handed him the golden, one-time chance to learn and he’d done nothing but die a slow death on that couch the whole time. He’d squandered the help Jamie so selflessly offered.
And Marcus couldn’t even say for certain he wouldn’t walk out of that bar all over again.
No, he could say for certain.
He would.
Not sitting beside Jamie, letting another man have that honor, had been borderline impossible, but the hand on his leg?
Marcus made a miserable sound and took another pull of whiskey, ignoring the rain that dripped into his eyes when he tipped his head back.
“I’m going, I promise,” Marcus announced, coming to his feet, pleased when the ground didn’t sway. He’d only purchased the bottle of Jack after getting off the train in Long Beach, so he was nowhere near drunk. Give it half an hour, though. He’d do whatever it took to pass out and stop thinking about another man’s hand on Jamie.
He descended the stairs and gave Jamie a wide berth where he stood at the end of the path, going around him. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“Marcus…”
“Did he kiss you?” His grip tightened around the glass neck of the bottle, because if Jamie said yes, Marcus was going to escape consciousness by slamming it down over his own head. “Did he?”
Jamie seemed to be struggling with his answer.
“That means yes, doesn’t it? Jesus Christ.”
“It’s not a yes, Diesel,” Jamie snapped, taking a step in his direction, his dark hair being plastered to his forehead by the falling condensation. “I’m just trying to figure out what control I’m giving up of this whole fucking mess if I start answering questions like that. And explaining myself to you. Where does that lead?”
A beat passed. Two. “Is that a yes?”
Jamie exhaled on an unsteady laugh. “What the hell am I going to do with you?”
“Anything you want,” Marcus whispered back.
The look Jamie gave him back said that’s not true and you know it.
“Was tonight really so easy for you?” Marcus asked, his voice rising, a hand swiping across his forehead to brush away the rain. “Pawning me off on another guy? Was it really that easy, Jamie?”
“No. It wasn’t.”
Marcus barely heard Jamie’s reply because of the sudden roar in his ears, carried forth by the memories. Jamie sitting too close to Kurt. Letting Marcus sit too close to Adam. “Do you think I’m going to be attracted to just anyone? Is that what you think?” He used his bottle to gesture at the house. “Your brothers are both hot and I’ve never once thought of fucking either of them. Not once.”
Jamie’s face screwed up. “For chrissake, Marcus.”
“Sorry, I was just trying to support my point.” The bottle sloshed at his side. “It’s just you, Jamie. It’s only you, since as far back as I can remember. So did Father Time kiss you or not? Put me out of my fucking misery.”
“No. Okay? No.” Jamie two-hand shoved Marcus back a step. “He didn’t kiss me. I ran out of the bar after you. I left and went straight to your building, Deez Nuts. I’ve been going out of my fucking mind, you don’t even answer your phone and now you think you can question me? I was…I was…”
Marcus felt his face split into a grin. “Worried about me?”
“Don’t you dare smile.”
Enough warmth spread in his chest, he was worried his heart might drown, but at least it would go happy. “Jamie Prince was worried about me.”
Jamie strode past him toward the door, already taking out his keys. “You should be worried I’m going to clock you with that bottle.”
Marcus floated behind him up the path. “Where are you going?”
“Inside.” Once Jamie got the door open, he paused. Without turning around he cursed under his breath. Head falling forward, he asked, “Are you coming?”
Not in a million years did Marcus ever expect to see the inside of Jamie’s house. It was nothing like he’d pictured, either. In his mind, Jamie was a king living in a palace, deigning to mingle with lesser men. But the space was homey, slightly outdated, signs of its male inhabitants everywhere, though Rory’s girlfriend’s influence was in places, too. Textbooks, sunflowers in vases sprinkled in among the kicked off sneakers and empty beer bottles.
The house was empty thanks to Andrew and Rory working the Castle Gate, and Jamie didn’t stop in the quiet kitchen. He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and headed for the stairs so fast, Marcus had to speed walk after him. He saw Jamie take a left and disappear into a room at the end of the hall, and with his pulse spiking like a football, he followed.
“This is more what I pictured,” Marcus said, entering the dimly lit room, rubbing his sweating palms on his rain-soaked jeans. “Black and white and dark wood and no dust on your desk fan and a Mac. I knew you’d have a Mac. No dishes anywhere. I knew you’d have no—”
“You’re rambling, Diesel,” Jamie said, sitting on the bed and bending forward to untie his boots. “Take a deep breath. It’s just me.”
“Just you,” Marcus said with a quiet laugh. “That’s like saying…just Noah Syndergaard.”
Having toed off his boots, Jamie straightened. “Except I’m less pitcher, more catcher.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned and Marcus’s eyes widened. “Oh.”
Already, there hadn’t been a hope in hell of his dick staying soft in Jamie’s bedroom. After Jamie’s implication that he liked being on the bottom, Marcus’s cock was at such rigid attention, it threatened to bust open his jeans. He could only exist inside the fierce ache as Jamie stripped off his shirt and stood, taking slow, measured steps in Marcus’s direction.
“Why did you come here for?” Jamie asked, stopping right in front of him.
A shiver passed through Marcus and he had to close his eyes because having Jamie so close and so half naked in front of a bed was so overwhelming. “To make sure you got home safe.”
“Why else?”
“If that guy kissed you,” Marcus breathed unevenly. “I was probably going to break a bottle over my own head.”
“That’s probably not a healthy impulse, but sure.” Marcus only knew Jamie moved closer because of the warm breath that fanned his neck. “What did you come here for?”
Marcus swallowed hard. “I wanted to be the one who kissed you good night, babe.”
A pause. “Just kiss me?”
“No,” Marcus rasped, thunder cracking in his bloodstream. “I came for all of it.”
Jamie’s palm coasted up under his shirt, his fingertips dragging in light circ
les around Marcus’s nipples, before traveling down, down, lingering on the snap of his jeans…and then Jamie’s grip closed around the bulge of his cock.
“Oh Jesus, please,” Marcus moaned, his legs very nearly giving way, teeth chattering a little. “You’ve never touched me there.”
“Believe me, I know.”
Marcus dropped his open mouth to the curve of Jamie’s neck, struggling to breathe. “Tell me you’ve wanted to.”
“I’ve needed to.” Jamie started a firm massage, cradling Marcus’s cock through his jeans and slide-squeezing it, base to tip. Up and down, up and down. “You think you were the only one jealous tonight? I thought you might make a friend, but you kept moving closer and I stopped being rational. You’re the only one who does that to me, Marcus. I couldn’t think straight with anyone else near you.”
“I was just trying to get a better view of Kurt’s hand,” Marcus growled, rocking his hips into the perfect pressure of Jamie’s touch. “I knew he was going to do it. Put his hand on my Jamie.”
Jamie’s eyes met his. “I’m sorry I let that happen.” Keeping his attention locked on Marcus’s face, he unbuttoned Marcus’s jeans and tugged down his zipper, reaching in to draw out his full, throbbing erection. And there he was, bare and dripping in Jamie’s hand, the beginning of nine thousand of his most private fantasies coming true. “I’m going to give you the rest of that apology on my knees. I don’t give a fuck if that’s right or we should handle this differently. I just need you to look down at me eating your big, thick cock and know I never wanted anyone’s hands on me tonight but yours.”
Marcus heard Jamie’s speech like they were inside a tunnel, the words echoing and sounding almost unreal. Dreamlike. It wasn’t a dream, though. Jamie Prince was really dropping to his knees in front of him. Marcus’s knees gave out and he crashed backward into a dresser, rattling the cologne bottles and picture frames on top. Jamie didn’t laugh at him, though. No, his mouth was too busy closing around the head of Marcus’s cock, his tongue taking a lap around the smooth helmet, tucking into the underside of that ridge with a moan and rubbing, rubbing with the tip of his tongue until Marcus had to grab on to the base of his dick and pull out of Jamie’s mouth.
“Jamie, Jamie, please,” he panted. “I’m going to embarrass myself.”
Jamie’s expression was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Patient. Yet extremely turned on. His eyes were glassy, cheekbones flushed, lips parted. Keeping his attention on Marcus’s face, he leaned in and placed a kiss in the center of his happy trail. “We have all night.” His teeth scraped across Marcus’s belly, causing a muscle convulsion in the lowest parts of his stomach. “If you come in my mouth now, that just means you’ll be able to fuck me longer later.”
“Oh my God,” Marcus wheezed. “You just said that. To me.”
Jamie’s upper lip curled. “Nobody loses here, okay? And nothing between us is embarrassing.” His tongue drew lazy circles around Marcus’s belly button. “Unless you knock yourself out with a bottle.”
“Yeah,” Marcus rasped. “Pretty stoked right about now that I didn’t do that—” His words broke off into a moan as Jamie’s mouth sank down, down—all the fucking way down—on his cock. “Jesus. Jesus.”
There was nothing pretty about the way Jamie sucked him off and Marcus loved it. Love didn’t even begin to cover his appreciation when Jamie choked and pulled back, letting Marcus’s length go with a smack of his lips. Then, mother of everything holy, Jamie spit on his cock to make it slippery and dove in for more, taking Marcus to the back of his throat, eyes shut so tight, enjoyment written on every inch of his face. Marcus’s thighs shook, hoarse groans rising up from deep down in his chest, one after the other. Pleasure twined around the bottom of his spine like barbed wire, constricting, constricting, and words left his mouth without stopping by his brain first for permission to exit.
“Goddammit, Jamie, you make my dick hurt so bad. It hurts all the time and fuck, oh fuck that’s so good. Don’t stop, babe. Yes. Right there. Right there.” He pumped his hips in an increasingly fast tempo, moaning at the ceiling when Jamie accommodated every inch of him. “I’ve wanted to fuck that fucking mouth since I saw you three summers ago and you know it. You make me obsessed. You make me crazy.”
His mind hitched with worry when he heard the echo of his own words. Had he said too much? But Jamie only drew harder on his cock, jerking down Marcus’s jeans to his knees and reaching around to grip his bare ass cheeks. Until he had Jamie’s hands marking their territory with rough, molding squeezes of his backside, Marcus hadn’t been aware how badly he needed Jamie to touch him there.
“Please,” Marcus whispered.
Jamie paused his blowjob from heaven long enough to sink his middle finger into his own mouth. He continued to lick up and down the underside of Marcus’s shaft while letting his finger travel lightly along the split of Marcus’s ass. “This is what I think about,” Jamie said thickly. “Maybe it makes me sick, but I’ve wanted you to beg for my finger here. Wanted to watch you struggle against how much you need your ass filled. Wanted to watch you come as soon as I get knuckle-deep even though you’re trying so hard not to.”
The slick pad of Jamie’s middle finger brushed over the pucker of Marcus’s back entrance. At the same time, Jamie deep-throated his cock and there was no preparing for the onslaught of sensations coming from all sides. And more than his body responded to Jamie touching him there. Something clicked in his head, like a math equation finally making sense. A really sexy fucking math equation. That finger slid over his asshole again and the pressure in Marcus’s balls became unbearable, almost too heavy to hold back.
“Jamie,” he growled, his fingers twisting in Jamie’s hair. “Please.”
What was he asking for? Marcus could barely think straight, the pleasure being fed to his body was so intense. So long overdue. But somehow a thought pierced the lust crowding his brain. What if this was the only night he ever got to spend with Jamie? Nothing had changed. Marcus still wasn’t ready to come out and Jamie still needed to live life on his own terms. Out and proud. Tomorrow morning would come, the sun would rise and Jamie might view tonight as a bad decision. Or a one-time thing.
Marcus’s throat tightened so fast he couldn’t breathe. If those possibilities had even the slightest chance of coming true, he wasn’t going to miss this chance to be everything—everything—for Jamie. Biting down on his lower lip and wrestling with the oncoming orgasm, Marcus pulled his cock out of Jamie’s mouth and urged him to his feet.
Affection like Marcus had never felt before tugged in his chest when Jamie stumbled into him and laid his cheek on Marcus’s shoulder, breathing heavily. “D’you need to stop?”
“God no.” Marcus tipped up Jamie’s face and their mouths locked, tongues twining slowly, before they both surged together and the kiss caught fire. Jamie reached for Marcus’s shirt at the same time Marcus went to unzip Jamie’s pants and their hands collided. They laughed against one another’s mouths as Marcus backed Jamie toward the wall beside his bed. Having Jamie wedged between him and a hard place made a moan break from Marcus’s mouth, and requiring skin-on-skin contact with every fiber of his being, he jerked his own shirt off over his head and went back to kissing Jamie, reveling in the hot friction of their straining chests. “I want to be inside you,” he breathed, grappling with Jamie’s zipper. “Help me get inside you.”
Marcus reached into Jamie’s jeans and took out his cock, stroking it in a tight grip, watching in awe as Jamie’s jaw loosened on a groan. “Are you sure?”
“Never been more sure about anything,” Marcus said, closing his mouth over Jamie’s and kissing him hard. “I need you. I need you.”
Jamie shoved his pants and boxers down the rest of the way, using his feet to kick them off and Marcus was hit with a wave of dizziness. Jamie was naked in front of him. All the way naked—and he was the hottest thing Marcus had ever seen. Smooth in some places, rough and covered in hair in others.
Cut muscles and lithe limbs. Everything. He was everything. And he was fucking Marcus’s grip with sexy hip punches, even as he groped for something on his bedside table.
A bottle.
While Jamie engaged Marcus’s mouth in another seeking kiss, Marcus could sense him thumbing off the cap of the bottle and then liquid was being poured onto Jamie’s cock, the ample moisture coating Marcus’s palm and he knew. He knew what to do. It was instinct…and partly the porn he’d caved in and watched. With his lips still tackling Jamie’s, Marcus let go of his man’s cock and brought his fingers around back, sliding the middle and index between Jamie’s firm cheeks. He might have felt out of his depth at that point if he hadn’t just experienced how good it felt to be touched back there. If Jamie didn’t tense and hold his breath, like he was waiting, needing Marcus to finger him. So he did.
He sank his middle finger inside Jamie and felt Jamie’s dick swell between their bellies, felt the ripples of pleasure travel through the body he held pressed to the wall. And nothing had ever been more perfect or called to Marcus more clearly. This is where I am. I’m all here. Marcus anchored their foreheads together and continued to work his finger in and out of Jamie, eventually adding a second finger and swallowing Jamie’s gasp with his mouth. He felt Jamie’s hand move between their stomachs to beat them both off in one fist and the sight of it, combined with the feel of Jamie’s tight entrance around his fingers, almost knocked him down.
“You’re doing that so fucking good,” Jamie said in a deep rasp. “Getting me ready for you, aren’t you, baby?”
Marcus shook from head to toe. “Call me ‘baby’ again and I’m going to come.”
Jamie shook his head. “No, you won’t. You want to come inside me so bad, don’t you, Marcus?” He touched his tongue to Marcus’s. Once, twice. “I feel the way you’re trying to stretch me. You’re dying to slide in another finger and see how deep I’ll be able to take your ten-inch dick.” Jamie let go of his own shaft and stroked only Marcus’s length fastfastfast. “Why don’t you fuck me and find out?”
Heat Stroke Page 11
