by Anna Zabo
“Hey, Si?”
I liked hearing my nickname on Ian’s lips. Especially in the dark. “Yeah?”
“You think that cop knows what we were up to?”
I rolled that around in my head. Phil wasn’t an idiot. Most of the townfolks were smart as whips. You had to be to live out here. “I don’t know. Maybe.” That quip about being more trouble than the local sex shop poked at my brain. I had to wonder if I wasn’t the first Derry to blow someone behind the store. “Maybe Lydia’s lost her keys there, too.”
Ian made this strange sound between a laugh and a choke. “How do you . . .”
So many endings to that question. So many questions he could be asking. “I know it’s strange, but there’s room for whatever you want.” Sex. Love. A fling. Something longer. Hell, we’d talked for a long time with Vince, Dexy’s dad, about him moving in back in the day. He was straight, but I’d been friends with Vince. We all still caught a beer together once in a while, and he’d been so pleased when we’d hired Dexy.
Ian was silent, though his fingers tapped on the steering wheel.
“Communication’s important, though. I can’t read minds.” This wasn’t some paranormal romance, but real life.
This time, the sound was a distinct laugh. “Says the man who up and assumed I wouldn’t want him to come home with me after he swallowed my cock and load in a damp alley.” Warm fingers stroked my thigh.
Okay, he had me there. I blew out a breath. “We were nearly caught.”
Ian inched his fingers higher, and I pressed against the seat. His voice was soft and full of depth. “Why do I get the feeling you liked that part?”
He was so good at this, the teasing, the turning on. The sexy talk I failed at. “Maybe.” I did like being watched, but there was more to it than that. I wanted to get caught. I wanted people to know I was queer and poly. Lydia and I had talked about being out, but always came back around to not rocking the boat. We were both worried about the shop. Her career. All of it.
Ian made me want to tip our lives over. But I was getting way ahead of myself. Two days and a blowjob weren’t enough to build a relationship on, or rearrange my life with Lydia for.
Guess I’d been quiet too long, because the stroking went from sexy to comforting. “Talk to me, Simon.” An edge of command there. I could get used to that.
“It’s complicated.”
“That’s a Facebook status.”
I barked out a laugh. “It’s true, though. My thoughts.” I took his hand in mine. “I don’t always say or do the right things. I’m horrible when it comes to sexy. I always guess wrong about men.” I shrugged, which he probably didn’t see. “I like you, only I don’t know how to tell you that. Don’t know how to explain my life. Want to try, though.”
He squeezed my hand. “I think I see why Lydia married you.”
That made me warm all over. His words were so something she would have said, and I wouldn’t have understood it from her, either.
He let me go. “We’re nearly there, and I need both hands.”
Stick shifts. Hot, but cockblocking at the same time. We pulled into a driveway and parked by a detached garage next to a large house set not too far off from the road. We were out by one of the fishing piers, and I knew the house wasn’t Ian’s.
“I rent the rooms above the garage.” He parked next to, rather than inside, the garage, and shut off the car. “It’s pretty quiet out here, and the Yazzies leave me be.”
Ah. I knew the Yazzies. They ran a framing store in town. Good people. Usually helped with our small arts festival every year. Queer-friendly too. “Good choice. Nice place.”
“Time to unbuckle,” Ian said. “Ride’s not over yet.”
I wet my lips. Good. I wasn’t nearly done being Ian’s for the night.
A quick trip up a set of outside stairs, and then he opened the door into a lovely loft. I didn’t get much of a view, partly because the room was softly lit, but mostly because Ian grabbed me by the shirt right away and pulled me to him. Our mouths met. He was hungry and demanding and each swipe of his tongue had me wanting to sink to my knees. Especially when he worked the buttons of my shirt open and slid his palms over my chest. I moaned into him.
“You’re fucking dirty, aren’t you?” Teeth grazed my chin and his fingers pulled at my nipple. “Bet I could bend you over and take you right here.”
Yeah. He could. “Any way you want me.”
“Oh, Si.” He shoved my shirt over my shoulders and I shrugged it off and onto the floor. “Don’t tempt me like that.”
I met his gaze. “I mean it.”
Ian got this ravenous look. “I’m sure you do. And I happen to have a laundry list of what I want to do to you.” He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled the zipper apart, practically in one motion.
“You’ve known me two days, how long could it be?” Not that I hadn’t been fantasizing about him. But still.
Jeans and underwear slid down my legs and pooled at my feet, then I was in Ian’s arms and he was kissing me again like he could drink my soul down. His hands roamed my back and ass and he nipped my lip hard enough to sting. I couldn’t help the gasp or the shudder that ran through me. I rode his thigh, my dick pressed so hard against his jeans that it hurt. Heaven and hell. He opened my crack and skimmed my hole and I nearly came right there and then. “Fuck.”
Ian’s lips brushed mine and he chuckled. “I have a vivid imagination.”
And wicked intentions. He bit my shoulder, pulling a long moan out of me, then patted my cheek. “Lose the socks and shoes, then get your ass on my bed.”
I could get used to this. Being stripped. Ordered. At Ian’s beck and call.
He sauntered toward his bed, pulling off his shirt as he went. The muscles of his naked back rippled when he tossed the shirt away. He glanced back. “Move it, Simon, or it’ll be a hell of a lot more fun for me . . . and less for you.”
Someone liked games. Getting my shoes off nearly had me tumbling to the floor, but I was by Ian’s bed as fast as I could manage. He was naked—wonderfully, gloriously naked—and stroking himself. On his stomach, a tattoo of thorns and roses swirled from his hip to his treasure trail. “Shit, that’s beautiful.”
He smirked. “The ink?”
“Everything.” I breathed the word. “You— I.” My brain couldn’t gather enough thoughts to speak. Ian was stunning, and I was here. He wanted my scrawny, clumsy, married, poly, bisexual ass. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that—a man’s desire. That it was Ian’s was exponentially miraculous. “Please?” I didn’t know what I was asking for.
Maybe Ian did, because curiosity, then firmness flickered across his features. He stepped up and kissed me.
Unlike all the times before, this was tender and light. I closed my eyes against the dizziness of his taste. Fingers pressed against my hips and our cocks slid together. He hummed into my mouth and shifted me—us—until I felt the bed against the backs of my thighs.
“Sit,” he whispered, and I did.
He had the biggest grin when I stared up at him. “Anything,” I repeated. I’d swallow him again. Get on my hands and knees. Whatever he wanted.
“You trust me that much?”
I shouldn’t after two days, but I always fell hard and fast, or I didn’t at all. One of these days, that would get me into trouble. Not with Ian, though. I knew that like I knew my own name. “Yeah.”
Tracing my jaw with his fingers, he spoke. “You’re something else, Si.” Warmth in his voice—he wasn’t making fun of me. “Stretch yourself out on your back . . . Hands at the headboard.”
He watched me as I moved, his dick pointing up at the ceiling and his focus on my face and arms. The headboard had slats, but they were too close together to grip, so I grazed my hands against the wood. Smooth and warm.
Ian drank me in, his gaze licking over my body as if it were a canvas and he was deciding where to place the first stroke of paint. His choice was the lightest of touches ag
ainst my abs, above my cock. I bit my tongue to keep from groaning. Failed.
“None of that.” Ian ran his nails up my chest and flicked a nipple. “We’re at my place. You’re in my bed. We’re gonna play by my rules. I want to hear everything, Simon. Every moan, every curse, every scream. No hiding. Understood?”
“Yeah.” I sounded shaky. Hell, I was. Trembling. Turned on and buzzing. Ian had barely touched me and I was high as a kite already.
“Good.” He flicked my nipple again and I winced and groaned, my body on fire. “Much better.” Ian patted my cheek once more, his eyes bright and cheeks flush. “I’ll be back. I need to fetch a few items.”
I exhaled and relaxed against the pillows. “Oh fuck, this is . . .” Good. Hot. Sexy.
A drawer closed and Ian clicked his tongue—a sound of disappointment that I’d held back my words.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered.
A huff, and he returned. Lube, condoms, and a black sash. “I haven’t even started yet.”
“I know.” I focused on the sash and my heart ratcheted up a notch. Lydia liked tying me up, since it drove me crazy. Ian was bigger and stronger than Lydia by far. No doubt he could keep the rest of me immobile with his strength. Open to him. At his mercy.
That smirk told me he’d read my expression. He put the lube and the condoms on the nightstand, and straddled me with one acrobatic motion that had the bed bouncing. His legs pressed against the sides of my chest, warm and tight, his cock so close but too far to suck. I tried anyway, but he pushed my head back against the mattress.
He gave me a wicked smile. “You’re too much.”
Couldn’t help the laugh. “I could say the same.”
“Mmm. Don’t move.” He crawled up, took my wrists and wrapped them with the sash. Cool fabric chilled my skin. Soft enough, but not slick. Wouldn’t chafe, but wouldn’t slip either. I tried to concentrate on my wrists because Ian’s dick was inches from my face, the slit glistening with pre-come. I wanted to suck and taste him again. Hear his groans . . . but I knew better. His bed. His rules. So, Ian’s scent engulfed me, my balls and cock throbbed, and the sash tightened around my wrists. I let out a whimper, then another because the first helpless sound had felt so good. Slyly tortured by a cock, inches from my lips, that I’d been forbidden to touch.
Ian sat back and slid his ass over my shaft. The heat, the sudden weight of him, and the way he moved over me sent sparks up my spine. Breath left my lungs and I pulled against the sash. “I’m gonna come. If you do that . . .” I didn’t want this to end, not yet, but I was so on edge.
“Be a shame if you did.” Ian rocked on me. “Especially before I fucked you.”
He didn’t want me to hold back, so I gave in to the gasps and moans when he skimmed his hands up my chest and kneaded my pecs.
“Thing is, I want to see you come like this.” He leaned forward and ground his cock into mine. “Undone by a sash and a little frotting.”
Yeah, and also the way he stared at me, that openmouthed smile, like I was the only guy in the world he wanted. The sweat at his brow, how his hair fell over his forehead . . . It was all too much. “Oh god, I can’t last much longer.”
His lips grazed mine. “Then don’t.”
When he kissed me, the world vanished but for his body, the heat and friction between us, and my utter helplessness. He sipped my groans and whimpers and curses, all while I twisted beneath him. His rhythm was insistent as were his bites and nips and the wicked whispers that ghosted over my skin. “Yeah, that’s it, Si. Come on. I know you want to.”
I couldn’t string words together, only grunts and moans. The tension was so close to cracking into bliss and light. I only needed . . .
“I want your come all over me.”
. . . that. Ian’s dirty voice in my ears. Desperate sounds poured out of me into Ian’s kisses, and I came and came until we were slick and I couldn’t see or think.
As I floated back down, Ian grazed his teeth over my chin. “So fucking hot.”
His cock was hard against my stomach and every inch of me tingled. I pulled at the sash. Still snug and tight. Comforting in a way. “Yeah.” I sounded as breathless as I felt. “God, I can’t believe you want me.”
He coughed a laugh. “Si, you’re gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want you?”
Most men. And a whole bunch of women, but I wasn’t going to argue with him. He was like Lydia—biased as all hell. “I’m grateful you do.”
He landed a kiss on my nose. “Still want you. Still plan to have you. Figure I can get you up again before the night is done.” He worked down my body and took my flagging dick into his mouth.
Totally unfair, especially given how sensitive I was. I arched against the rasp of his tongue and lips as he licked and sucked me clean and damn if I didn’t start rising to the occasion. I guessed there was still a bit of teen left in my bones, or at least in my dick.
“Goddamn, I love how you taste.” Such warm breath, and there was that zing again, but this settled somewhere in my chest, heating me in a way that had nothing to do with how much I wanted him inside me.
Words sawed through my brain and spilled out my lips. “You . . . are amazing.” Not the most clever response, but I was never good at talking romantically. Usually left my partners giggling.
Ian wasn’t laughing, though. He grinned, and licked up the rest of my spunk. No one had ever done that before and his mouth left me hissing and shaking against the bed. He traced his hands down my body and sat on my feet. “There you are, every inch for me tonight.” He stroked my hips.
A lazy thought drifted through my hazy post-orgasmic mind. Pre-orgasmic? Because I was hard again. “You’re gonna break me.”
His chuckle was wicked. “Yeah, maybe.” He was up and crawling, but this time to claim a condom and the lube. “But I’m good at putting stuff back together.”
The rip of the foil rolled over my body, and sparks tingled at the back of my head. “Better be. Gotta work tomorrow.” By Ian’s side too. I was so fucking lucky.
Lube next, and he made a nice show of slicking his dick before he circled my hole and pressed a finger inside me. “Fuuuuck.” Another long moan for Ian. I loved being breached. The sting, the intimacy, the rise of pleasure that curled in my balls. I spread myself wider for him. I wanted a hell of a lot more than his finger. “Can we—skip the prep?”
“My bed, my rules.” His smile alone made me twist on the sheets, then he finger-fucked me fast and I arched for him, any curses lost in the groans at the back of my throat. “Besides, I like seeing you like this.”
Bet he’d like seeing his cock in me, but I was shuddering too hard, my tongue too tied to try to say it. But it must have been true, because he pulled his finger out of me, pressed his dick against my asshole, and pushed in.
I bit my lip against my cry, then let it out because Ian wanted the sound. Probably wanted the sparks of light and the tears that stung the corners of my eyes. The pleasure was laced with pain and I couldn’t free my shaking arms from the cloth that bound them. Helpless. His. There was no better feeling.
“Yeah, like that, Si.” He moved inside me, slowly pulling back and pressing in until I was sure he’d split me in two if he managed to get all of himself in. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
When I opened my eyes, he was above me, eyes shining. I wanted to reach up and kiss him, but I was tied to the headboard. Still, I tried, lifting my head as my body strained against his.
He tangled his fingers in my hair, took my mouth, and kissed me until I made helpless noises. When he relented, he had the gleam of a devil. “Look at me.” Soft words, but iron with his will. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off me. Not for one moment, Si.”
“Yes.” A single word, straight from my soul.
Ian fucked me hard, deep, and relentlessly. Rougher than I’d ever imagined he could, each stroke a glorious burn of pleasure. And oh, God. He was going to break me. Split me open and spill my heart and soul out on the be
d. I couldn’t turn away, because in that instant, I was the only thing in Ian’s life . . . and I knew it.
I came first, hot jizz pouring out over his hand and my stomach, my cry echoing off the ceiling. Then he was there too, his face a joy to watch, and his shout as loud.
There were tears in my eyes when he was done and I ached everywhere. Concern marred his contentment, and he pulled at the sash. The fabric slipped off, and I was able to catch his head in my hands and kiss him.
He obviously hadn’t expected that, because I swallowed a yelp. He might have had his rules, but right now, I didn’t care that this was his bed—I had my own rules: if someone fucks you that grandly, you thank them. So I did, with my tongue and my lips and my mouth, then finally my words. “I loved every second of that.”
He huffed a laugh, then settled next to me on the bed as we caught our breaths. He drew circles on my chest and kissed my shoulder and whispered words I didn’t understand but knew he believed. “You’re perfection, Simon.”
I wasn’t. Not nearly. But that didn’t stop my heart from tumbling over and over.
Morning came too damn soon, but I could forgive the sun, since Simon was in my bed, sleeping hard against the mattress. He looked like a goofball, hair every which way, mouth slightly open and face pressed against the pillow. A sexy, wonderful goofball, who I’d fucked into oblivion.
God, last night had been wonderful. He . . . I. He’d given me so much, as if I were the only person in his life. Which was weird, because I wasn’t.
Still, Simon had been wholly mine last night. I peered at the clock and sighed. Nope. No time for a replay—not if I wanted to get to End o’ Earth and back to work on the miniature set. We still had all the little details to put in so it would seem as real as the life-size one. Wednesday was one day closer.
No idea how Simon would react to being woken up. I guessed I would find out. “Si? Simon?”
A flicker of movement behind his eyelids, then he blinked them open. A deep breath and those blue eyes meeting mine. His smile was sunlight. “Hey.” Gravelly voice. Did he know what that did to my insides?
