Where There's Smoke

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Where There's Smoke Page 15

by L. A. Witt


  “Things are about to get chaotic and insane like you won’t even believe.” I smothered my barely smoked cigarette in the ashtray and met Jesse’s eyes. “There won’t be a lot of downtime.”

  He gave a half a breath’s worth of nervous laughter. “There hasn’t been much anyway.”

  “There will be even less now.” I hooked my thumb in the pocket of my slacks. “Anything you want to accomplish during that downtime, this is your last chance.” I paused. More for the benefit of those around us than him, I added, “We need to discuss the next steps in your campaign. We might as well do that tonight.”

  Jesse gulped, and I didn’t have to ask if he read between the lines.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jesse

  Anthony closed his front door behind him. Holding my gaze, he turned the deadbolt like it was a volume knob controlling my heartbeat, cranking it up higher and higher until it clicked into place.

  He started toward me, and I gulped. He didn’t have to say a word. The look in his eyes confirmed every suspicion—hope—I’d had all the way over here: we weren’t working on any speeches or debate tactics tonight.

  Less than an arm’s length from me, he stopped. He reached across the distance and cupped my face in both hands. I closed my eyes, the warm touch sending me right back to that moment in my foyer.

  “My God, Jesse,” he said, that smoke-sharpened sound making my breath catch. He pulled me closer, and even though I knew it was coming, I wasn’t prepared when his lips met mine. I’d been craving his kiss so damned badly, but even now, as I wrapped my arms around him and parted my lips for his gently demanding tongue, I wasn’t ready. He overwhelmed me. The reality that he was kissing me overwhelmed me. Especially because here, now, we didn’t have to stop.

  He broke the kiss but immediately descended on my neck. His stubbled chin gently abraded just above my collar, and his lips teased erogenous nerve endings to life all along the front of my throat, the underside of my jaw, that insanely sensitive spot just below my ear.

  “I figured this was the best place for us to get any privacy,” he murmured, letting his lips brush my skin as he spoke. “Because…” He raised his head, and my knees almost dropped out from under me when we made eye contact. His voice, low and gravelly and so deliciously desperate, liquefied my spine as he whispered, “I want to fuck you. Tonight. Now.”

  “Please,” was all I could say.

  He slid his fingers into my hair and kissed me hard. “We’d better get into the bedroom then, or I’m going to end up putting you over the back of the couch.”

  We didn’t waste any time getting from the entryway to the bedroom. I’d never been in his house before but didn’t bother with even a second’s worth of curiosity about the place or his taste in décor; that could wait. I couldn’t. He could have had John Casey propaganda plastered all over his walls and I just didn’t give a damn.

  As soon as we were in the bedroom, Anthony wrapped his arms around me and kissed me again. Dragging his fingers through my hair and over my clothes, he took a step back. Then another. Toward the bed, I guessed, and cool water suddenly flooded my veins.

  Breaking the kiss, I glanced over his shoulder at the bed. Perfectly made, every corner in place with military precision, just waiting for us to dishevel it like we would our clothes and my sanity. Nerves knotted in my stomach, and I chewed my lip.

  Anthony ran his fingers through my hair. “You all right?”

  “I’ve…” I looked away, silently cursing the heat in my cheeks that no doubt meant I was turning red.

  “Jesse?” He touched my chin and gently turned my head until we were eye to eye. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’ve, um…” I swallowed. “I’ve never done this. With a man.” I paused, shaking my head. “I mean, I’ve had sex with a man, but I…”

  “You’ve never been on the bottom?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  His hand slid along my jaw and into my hair. “Do you want to be?”

  I shivered. “More than you know.”

  It was Anthony’s turn to shiver, something he didn’t quite mask with a smoky groan and a tightening embrace. He kissed me and whispered, “Just tell me if you want to stop.”

  “I will.”

  “We’ll take it slow.” He kissed me again, just letting his lips linger against mine for a long moment. “I won’t hurt you, Jesse. I promise.”

  Another shiver pushed me against him. “What if I want you to hurt me?”

  He grinned just before growling into a deep, hungry kiss, and if his grasp on my hair was any indication, he was more than willing to hurt me if I wanted him to.

  Clothes fell away, landing wherever. We sank into bed together, running hands and fingertips over almost every inch of skin, brushing lips and flicking tongues over the rest.

  Anthony pushed me onto my back, and as soon as he started trailing kisses down the center of my chest, I knew where he was headed. As if I wasn’t already painfully hard, every inch he gained toward my cock threatened to make me come just thinking about him sucking me off.

  “Don’t you dare come yet,” he said, his voice vibrating against my abs. “You’re not coming until I fuck you.”

  I sucked in a breath and tried like hell not to come. “I won’t,” I whispered.

  “You’d better not,” he said with a playful lilt. “Or else I’ll just have to start over from the beginning.”

  “Oh fuck…” I closed my eyes and squirmed, whimpering as his lips inched closer to my cock. I fully expected him to tease me, to taunt me with his breath and nearness and voice, but then he flicked his tongue just below the head of my cock, and I almost fucking lost it.

  “Holy shit.” I grabbed the edge of the bed as my spine lifted off the mattress.

  Anthony laughed softly, probably well aware that I could feel his breath on my very sensitive skin. “What’s wrong? I’ve barely done a thing.”

  “I know, I’m just…” I moistened my lips. Took a deep breath. “Really, really turned on.”

  “Good,” he growled, and in the next instant, he took my cock in his mouth.

  I pushed myself up on my elbows and watched him, struggling just to breathe as he took my cock deeper, rose off it slowly, took it deeper again. It shouldn’t have surprised me he was so talented with his mouth, and maybe it didn’t. It just surprised me I hadn’t burst into flames or melted yet with the way his lips and tongue commanded nerve endings to handle a level of intensity I never imagined existed.

  He met my eyes. Then, as if I wasn’t already having a hell of a time breathing, he sucked his middle finger into his mouth.

  “Oh, God,” I moaned, closing my eyes as I sank back down onto the bed.

  “Just tell me if you want to stop,” he whispered and gently nudged my thigh. Without hesitation, I parted my legs, still disbelieving this was happening at all. His slick, cool fingertip teased my entrance, creating alien sensations that took my breath away. Then his lips were around my cock again. I grabbed as much of the comforter as I could, struggling just to hold on to anything while Anthony sucked my cock and gently pressed his finger against me. His lips and tongue were fucking incredible, finding every sensitive place like he’d mapped them all himself, and all the while, his finger kept a gentle, constant pressure.

  The more he teased me, the more accustomed I was to that pressure, and I relaxed. I knew what he intended to do, and desire finally trumped nerves and uncertainty. Then, and only then, as if he knew—and maybe he did—that I could handle it, he pressed his finger in. He moved it slowly, making small, gentle circles as well as sliding in and out, and I couldn’t even breathe. The foreign sensation, the vague burn was strange but not at all painful. Not unpleasant to say the least. Just…weird. Different.

  And coupled with the magic his lips and tongue worked on my cock, fucking intoxicating. How had I made it this far in life without ever experiencing this? No idea. Oh, but I was experiencing it now, and everything Anthony did
was un-fucking-believable.

  He withdrew his finger and looked up at me. “Hand me the lube,” he said, nodding toward the bottle on the bedside table.

  Oh, God. Oh my God.

  With a shaking hand, I picked up the bottle and handed it to him. As he took the lube from me, anticipation and nerves both forced my eyes closed.

  The bottle top clicked. Again. As Anthony moved, the mattress shifted, and I held my breath. My spine tingled as his hand slipped between my legs again, and then his mouth—warm, wet, and so damned talented—was around my cock again, and all the air left my lungs at once.

  His finger pressed against me and this time slid in with ease. He added a second finger, and every slow, gentle stroke drove me insane. My eyes watered and I tried to remember how to breathe as his fingers moved in and out at the same speed his mouth moved on my cock. The stretching sensation burned, but it wasn’t painful or unpleasant. Just intense. And amazing.

  Then his lips moved to my hip, and kiss by soft kiss, he followed my hip bone to my side. He started upward, and all the while, his fingers still slipped in and out of me. His lips moved higher up my side, and his fingers slid a little deeper. I squirmed beneath his light kisses, and moaned as he pushed his fingers apart, brought them together, pushed them apart again. The stretching wasn’t as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, and the more he did it, the more I wanted. And oh, God, if his fingers felt this good, his cock…

  I whimpered, biting my lip and trying not to fall to pieces.

  He teased my nipple with his teeth and tongue. I kneaded the back of his neck, trying to grasp him and feel him and just hold on. The need to touch him overwhelmed me, as if this would all be a dream if I didn’t anchor myself to this reality. To him. Everything his mouth did to my skin electrified my senses, and everything his fingers did inside me threatened to melt me into pure liquid lust. I was completely at his mercy as he teased and tantalized and drove me out of my fucking mind.

  His lips moved up my chest, then paused on my collarbone as if to emphasize just how calculated this was. How controlled he was while I fell apart as he fingered me and kissed me and drove me fucking insane.

  “Like that?” he murmured.

  “Mm-hmm.” I screwed my eyes shut as he worked his way up my neck. “God, Anthony…”

  “I can’t tell you,” he whispered, pausing to nip my earlobe, “how much I’ve been thinking about this. Even before I knew…before I knew you were gay, I…” His voice trailed off into a gravelly moan. Then he raised his head and, still teasing me with his fingers, kissed me.

  Moaning into his kiss, I gripped his shoulders and rocked my hips, trying to encourage him to move his hand faster, to fuck me deeper and harder with his fingers, but he was in charge. His hand moved a little faster, then slower, then faster again, like he wanted to make damn sure I had his undivided attention. So there was no chance of letting me forget what he was doing.

  Oh, Anthony, you don’t have to worry about that.

  As far as I was concerned, nothing existed except Anthony’s lips and hot breath on my neck, his skin against mine, and the deep, stretching, slick motions of his fingers as he stroked me inside, stroked me right to the edge of madness.

  My eyes welled up. My back arched. Gasping for breath, I broke the kiss. “God, Anthony, please…”

  “Please, what?” he murmured.

  I moaned, biting my lip, but couldn’t figure out how to form any words.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said, letting his lips brush mine. “Say it, Jesse. Or else I can tease you all night.”

  I whimpered and somehow managed to whisper, “Please fuck me.”

  Anthony kissed me hard as his hand slowed. One finger slipped free. Then the other. I gripped his neck and shoulder, like he was going to simply vanish into thin air now that his hand wasn’t fucking me anymore.

  “Let me put on a condom,” he said, and for the first time, I realized he was almost as breathless as I was. “Let me put one on so I can fuck you.”

  I didn’t consciously release him. The strength of my grip simply melted away, and my hands slid off his neck, his shoulder.

  Anthony kissed me again, gently this time. “I’ve been dying to do this,” he murmured. “Even before I knew you were gay, I was fantasizing about this every damned night.” His lips touched mine again. Then he whispered, “And I have every intention of making sure you enjoy every. Fucking. Second.”

  All I could do was exhale and hope to God I didn’t lose my mind before this even started.

  Anthony took the condom off the nightstand and sat up. He rolled it on, and when he went for the lube, my heart rate must have doubled. My nerves tried to get the best of me, but no. No. I wanted this. Right here. Right now.

  With Anthony.

  Anthony, who had a condom on and every intention of fucking me. Anthony, who grinned at me like that while he put the lube on. Anthony, who was over me. On top of me. Kissing me. Sending me out of my goddamned mind.

  Oh, God, hurry up.

  Wait. Fuck, I’m not ready for—

  Now. Please. Anthony, for the love of God.

  “I’ve been dying to do this,” he murmured. He let his lips brush mine once more, then pushed himself up on his arms. “I can’t wait.”

  I licked my lips. “Do you want me on my hands and knees?”

  He shook his head and parted my legs with his hand. “Stay just like that.” A spine-tingling grin spread across his lips. “I want to see your face the first time I’m inside you.”

  Oh. My. God.

  He ran his hand along my inner thigh. “If you get a leg cramp or anything, just say so.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “If not,” he said, grinning as he guided his cock to me, “say the word.”

  Just hurry up and…oh fuck…

  Cool lube tempered Anthony’s body heat, but the combination of hot and cold sent goose bumps prickling from the back of my neck to my curling toes. Then he pressed into me, and my vision immediately blurred. The head of his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle, igniting countless foreign, intoxicating, intrusive sensations.

  “You all right?” Anthony asked.

  I licked my lips again and nodded.

  Anthony gave me more, sliding a little deeper, withdrawing, sliding deeper still. His fingers had me plenty prepped and relaxed, but I wasn’t even close to prepared for the sheer intensity of his cock moving inside me. The same slick sensation, that same vague burn, but so, so much more, and I was in absolute ecstasy.

  “Oh, God, you feel amazing,” he purred. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. “I can’t believe no one’s—ooh fuck…” A low, throaty groan slipped off his parted lips. “I feel sorry for…” Opening his eyes, he looked down at me. As he leaned down to kiss me, he whispered, “I feel sorry for every man who hasn’t felt you like this.”

  I just moaned, because words were lost on me. Jesus Christ, I’d never felt anything so intense, so incredible. All I could think was more, more, I wanted more, God in heaven, I needed more.

  Anthony groaned again and pressed deeper. I opened my mouth to beg him to fuck me faster, but then his cock found some spot inside that turned ecstasy into something I couldn’t even comprehend. And he hit it again. And again. And oh fuck…again.

  He exhaled as he buried himself all the way inside me. “Like that?”

  “I…” I sucked in a breath, gripping the bedsheets and trying to stay on this fucking planet. “More. God, Anthony, more.”

  He kissed me gently. “I’m not hurting you?”

  “Fuck, no, not even close.”

  He grinned and kissed me again. “Just tell me if you want me to.”

  I shivered. “To make it hurt?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He dragged his lower lip across mine and released a quiet growl as he thrust into me just a little harder. “You want it to hurt, I can”—he slammed into me—“make it hurt.”

  My back arched under us, and I
reached up to grab his shoulders. Not that grabbing onto him helped any; his taut muscles quivering beneath my palms and the heat of his skin against my own just made the world spin that much faster, rendered me that much less articulate.

  Anthony, however, didn’t have that problem. He leaned down and kissed me lightly before growling, “You want it hard, Jesse?” He panted against my lips between light kisses and deep thrusts. “You want me to fuck you until it hurts?”

  All I could do was repeat that one, breathless word: “Please.”

  Anthony kissed me once more. “Get on your hands and knees, then.”

  I sucked in a breath. The promise behind that command, the anticipation of what he had in store for me, completely negated any thought I might have had about protesting as he pulled out.

  He must have known how unsteady I was, though, because he offered me a hand and helped me sit up.

  “Doing all right?” His lips pulled back in a toothy grin.

  “Doing just fine,” I slurred.

  “That’s what I like to hear,” he whispered and kissed me again. Then, at his direction, I turned around and got up on my hands and knees.

  I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax no matter how much anticipation and excitement had me shaking and ready to come unglued.

  He rested one hand on the small of my back. Maybe to steady me, maybe to steady himself, but it certainly centered me. Focused all my attention and senses on him, on that gentle touch.

  “I can’t tell you,” he said, the gravelly edge of his voice more pronounced than usual. “Jesus, Jesse, I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

  Before I could draw a breath, never mind speak, he pressed his cock against me. Into me. All the way inside me in one long, slow stroke.

  I screwed my eyes shut and moaned as he pulled out just as slowly. He pushed back in, withdrew, and picked up speed. His strokes were smooth and easy, but every stroke inched closer to a thrust. Before I knew it, there was no closer about it; he thrust into me. Hard and fast, deep and violent, and I couldn’t find enough breath for even the softest of moans. My elbows threatened to collapse beneath me, and had I been standing, my legs probably would have buckled already.

 

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