by N. R. Walker
We got busted at the stairs that led to my flat. I’d suggested we avoid the knowing looks and smirks from everyone in the shop and go straight around the back. But Gabe was there having a cigarette and wore a shit-eating grin when he saw us. “Going upstairs for anything in particular? You boys look like you’re in a hurry.”
Andrew stopped and stuffed his hands in his pockets and kind of hid behind me waiting for me to speak. I deadpanned, “Yeah, I feel much better now, thanks for asking.”
Gabe snorted and nodded to my apartment. “About to feel a whole lot better, I’d guess.”
Andrew gently pushed me toward the stairs, following close behind. He cleared his throat. “Gee, I’d really love to stay and chat.”
Gabe laughed, and I let myself be ushered up the first few steps, when we heard Lola. “Gabe, who you talking to, honey?”
Gabe madly waved his hand up toward my door which meant go-go-go. “Get outta here before she sees you,” he whisper-shouted. Then he turned back inside the shop. “No one, babe. Just mumbling to myself.”
I took the stairs two at a time with Andrew on my heels, and by the time I got the key into the lock and we fell through the doorway, Lola called out, “I saw you Spencer! Gabe, what the hell?”
“Just giving my brothers a chance, babe,” Gabe answered. “Boys gotta look out for each other.”
“I owe you, man,” I yelled back before I closed the door behind us with a laugh.
Then it was just me and Andrew. And that made me incredibly nervous. I was already breathless. My smile kinda slid away, and I wiped my hands on my thighs. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure,” he said. I thought he might go into the living room, but he didn’t. He followed me to the kitchen. I mean, my apartment wasn’t big, but in that moment it felt claustrophobic. Like I could feel the heat of his body no matter where he stood.
I handed him a bottle of water and took a mouthful from mine to give myself a moment to get my hammering heart under control. But then Andrew licked his lips, leaving them pink and glistening, and then I lost all signal to my brain.
He put the bottle down on the counter at my side and stood right in front of me. He was close but not quite touching, and so in control, whereas I was breathing like I’d run a marathon. Andrew smiled and put his fingers to my chin and ran his thumb across my beard. He leaned in so close I could feel the warmth of his breath. “About that kiss…”
He slid his hand along my jaw and held my head, right where he wanted it. He brushed his lips against mine, almost but not quite, and I thought my knees would buckle. My heart was pounding so loud I think he could hear it. Then he touched his bottom lip to mine before pulling back just a fraction. My breath hitched, and he smiled. “My favourite part is the almost-kiss,” he whispered. “It’s intoxicating.”
He was using big words and complete sentences while my head was spinning in circles, and when he nudged his nose to mine, all I could come out with was, “I have a stupid brain.”
Andrew laughed, and I well and truly ruined the moment. Not that he seemed too fazed because he took my face in both hands and pressed his lips to mine. He opened his mouth and tilted my head, and when our tongues met, pure desire exploded in my blood.
I pulled him closer and kissed him harder, finally—finally—feeling him against me, tasting his mouth, drinking him in. He was heaven. This was what I wanted. Him. To kiss him like this whenever I wanted. I could feel his surprise at how fiercely I kissed him, but he soon relaxed in my arms and met me with equal fervour.
I could feel his entire front against me, and I had no doubt he could feel how hard I was. Knowing he had the same reaction to me spurred me on, and I couldn’t help but grind my hips into his.
He moaned into the kiss, and the sound went straight to my cock. I pulled our mouths apart and pushed him back just a little, putting some space between us. He looked confused so I kept my hands fisted in his shirt. “Don’t go too far,” I whispered, while trying to get my breath. I licked the corner of my mouth, and he watched my tongue. His pupils were blown, his lips swollen, and he looked so fucking hot. “Just need a second,” I told him.
He put his palm to my cheek. “Do you need some time?”
I laughed, embarrassed. “Only if you don’t want this to be over in about ten seconds.”
“Oh.” His eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Yeah, sorry. It’s been a while for me, and you’re ridiculously hot.”
Andrew laughed and ran one hand through his hair. “Well, the first kiss certainly wasn’t a fluke.”
“Apparently not.” I snorted, and my brain finally found its voice. “We should um, we should take a breather, I guess. I mean, we didn’t talk about anything physical. Do you have expectations or limitations? Do you want to take it slow? I mean, you only broke up with whatshisname a month ago. I don’t want you to feel pressured…”
“Are you asking me what I want?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, we’ve been dating for—oh, are we even dating? Is that what we are?”
Andrew grinned. “I’m not opposed to that.”
A herd of butterflies took flight in my belly. “Right. Okay then. So, we’ve been dating for like two hours.”
Andrew took my hand and ran his thumb over my knuckles. A smirk played at his lips. “Well, technically, we’ve been fake-dating for two weeks.”
“True.”
“We’ve been out for dinner, breakfast, drinks,” he said. There was a hint of daring in his voice. “So, two weeks is actually a decent amount of time before we even kissed, right?”
“True.”
“Actually two weeks is a decent amount of time for other first things, right?”
I liked where he was going with this. “If you say so.”
He pulled on my hand and started to walk backwards, leading me forwards, to my bedroom. “I say so.”
“Are you sure?”
He stopped walking. “I am, whenever you are. Are you sure?”
“I am so sure.”
He smiled, relieved. “Oh, thank God.” He pulled my hand so I was flush against him, and that adrenaline, liquid fire lit up my blood once more. He feathered his lips over mine. “It doesn’t have to be sex,” he said gruffly. Then he pulled our hips together so our erections pressed against each other. “But we can get rid of these, yes?”
And that was all the encouragement I needed. “Fuck yes.” I pushed him backwards and into my room with my mouth planted on his. My hands went to his hips, and when the backs of his legs hit my bed, I pushed him again, letting him fall onto his back. I crawled over him, admiring the bulge tenting his trousers.
It made my mouth water.
He leaned up a little and pulled his shirt over his head and lay back again. He was kinda pale, but all those hours in the gym left him trim and toned. The sight literally stole my breath. “You’re so fucking hot.”
Without taking his eyes off me, he put his hands to his trousers and slowly popped the button.
I leaned back on my knees so I could take a second to simmer down, but it was no use. Instead, I palmed my dick. “Jesus, Andrew, this is going to be over embarrassingly fast.”
He bit his lip like my statement was a challenge and slid his fingers underneath his briefs. He gripped himself and I saw the engorged head of his dick.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Oh, fuck.”
Then he let go of his dick and used both hands to throw me onto my back on the bed. His strength surprised me, his assertiveness and want for control even more so. He was between my legs and pulled roughly at my jeans, popping the button fly open in one go. Then he was pulling my shirt over my head—he was doing whatever the fuck he wanted with me, and I was letting him.
This was bossy Andrew. Sure, he was quiet, a little shy even, but he had no qualms whatsoever in saying what he thought or asking for what he wanted. Or just taking it. When Andrew had said he was versatile, I might have doubted his topping ability. Well, I
certainly didn’t doubt him now.
“You’re gonna make me come,” I grated out.
He leaned over me, pushing my legs apart with his thighs, and slid his free hand around my aching cock. He spoke gruffly, with his lips almost touching mine. “Don’t fight it.”
With both hands, I pulled his mouth to mine. With his hand pumping me and his weight on top of me, his tongue in my mouth, I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
Pleasure exploded low in my belly, hot and delicious. My back arched as my orgasm rocked through me, come smearing our bellies. When I opened my eyes, Andrew was above me, watching me with wonder in his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered.
It was the first time I’d ever heard him swear, and it made me laugh. Or maybe it was the orgasm-induced haze in my brain that made me laugh. Either way, he leaned down and kissed me softly, slowly. He brought his hand up, and resting on his elbows, he put both hands in my hair. I wanted to tell him I think he just put jizz in my hair, but he rubbed his cock against me again and again, faster and faster until he broke the kiss so he could groan. He bucked one last time and stilled, his hot come shooting between us.
I had never seen anything like it.
He slumped down on me, boneless and spent, so I rolled us over until I was on top of him. I kissed his lips, his cheek, his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone, and I smiled. “I was right,” I told him. “That blush goes from your cheeks to your chest.”
He let out a laugh, and his arm fell heavily back to the bed.
“It’s incredibly sexy,” I told him, nipping the pink-flushed skin of his jaw. “You are incredibly sexy.”
He opened one eye lazily and looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Right.” He closed his eyes again and shook his head.
I kissed him softly. “Look at me.” I waited until his eyes opened. They took a second to focus and I fought a smile, but I kept my face just inches from his so he had to look at me. “You are the sexiest guy I’ve ever met. You’re intelligent, talented, funny, and you made me come in a matter of minutes.”
He blushed again and tried to look away. I gently put my fingers to his chin and kept eye contact. “You’re a remarkable guy, Andrew. I’ll just have to keep telling you that until you believe me.”
He stared, just stared at me, and I couldn’t have looked away even if I wanted to. Finally he cleared his throat and smirked. “Now, I’m not strictly opposed to staying here all day with you, but maybe we could shower? We’re a bit, you know…”
“Sticky?”
Andrew chuckled. “Uh, yeah. And our clothes are a mess. Well, actually, it was your shirt.”
I pecked his lips and rolled off him. “I liked that shirt on you too,” I said, offering him my hand to pull him off the bed. “I think we might need a trip to the laundromat.”
“I have a washing machine at my place,” he replied. “We could just go there.”
I looked at my bed. “My sheets are a mess too.”
He glanced at the rumpled bedding and shrugged. “Well, if they need washing, we could make sure they really need washing.”
I laughed at that. “Are you suggesting something?”
He ran his hand up my arm, across my chest, and up to my jaw, where he gently scratched my beard. “I am suggesting something, yes,” he whispered. He pulled my chin between his thumb and finger and drew me in for a kiss. “I think we should shower first.”
“Together?”
“Yes.”
Wow. “Okay.”
He slid his free hand down my stomach and over my still-open fly and palmed my half-hard dick. “Is this okay?”
I groaned out a laugh. “Ah, yes. Very okay.”
He licked his lips, and my eyes trained in on his tongue. He gave me a squeeze. “How big is your shower?”
Instead of answering, I grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. The shower wasn’t huge, but I didn’t care; we were both fitting in it. I turned the taps on, then turned to face him. He was still shirtless, and his trousers were undone. I could see the bulge barely concealed in his briefs. “Fuck, that’s hot,” I murmured. I stood against him, our fronts completely touching, and I whispered against his lips, “And you have a dirty mouth.”
He smirked. “It’s always the quiet ones…”
Smiling, I kissed him and slid my hands over his hips and pushed his trousers down. Then I cupped his balls and watched as his eyes swam and his breath hitched. I kissed him, his mouth open and willing. He wrapped his arms around me and slid his hands over my arse, pushing my jeans and briefs down in one go.
It was different being naked in front of Andrew. I was almost nervous, which was a new thing for me. It was like I was stripped of more than just clothes—like he saw me.
He was glorious naked. He was well-defined and well-hung. He was circumcised and a good many inches long, hanging proudly from a nest of blond pubic hair. The skin over his chest, stomach, and arms was flawless. Not a mark, not a scar, just pale and perfect.
His eyes scanned over my body, my tattooed arms, bare chest, and down to my cock. When his eyes met mine again, he looked a little drunk. I chuckled at him and stepped into the shower.
“Something funny?” he asked, following me into the cubicle.
I soaped up my chest and washed the dried come from my stomach. “Not at all.” I let my head fall back in the stream of hot water and quickly washed my face before handing him the soap. Only when I opened my eyes, he was on his knees and the water was streaming over him as he looked up at me. “Oh, Jesus.”
“It’s not funny now, is it?”
I laughed anyway and leaned my back against the tiles but kept my hips were they were. “God, Andrew.”
“Is it okay if I taste you?” he asked, his voice gruff.
Oh, fuck. My belly tightened at his words. “Do I have to beg?”
He put his fist around the base of my length, and I made the mistake of looking down at him. Because, fuck. The head of my cock was at his lips, and his eyes were dark, his skin was wet and his tongue… oh God, his tongue felt like heaven when he licked me.
I softly threaded my fingers through his hair. Not guiding or urging. I just needed to touch him. Then he took me into his mouth, and my stupid brain short-circuited.
He kept one hand around my shaft, the other cupped my balls, and his mouth worked the head. And he sucked my orgasm right out of me.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
My head spun, and I saw stars behind my eyes. Then his hands were on my face, and he kissed me. It was a mix of water and the taste of me, and then he was shutting the water off. I was still lightheaded when I stepped out of the shower, but I couldn’t miss his erection. I dried off quickly and wrapped a towel around me, and even as he was still towelling himself off, I snatched up his hand and led him back to the bedroom. “Your turn,” I told him. “Lay down.”
He sat on the bed and scooted back. Then he propped up the pillows and leaned back, adjusting them so he was almost sitting up. “What?” he asked when I laughed at him. “I want to watch.”
I knelt on the bed and edged up between his open legs. He truly was gorgeous. I wasted no time in returning the favour. I lifted his heavy cock and licked from his sac up to the head, eliciting a hiss from him.
When I tasted his slit, his breath hitched, and then he moaned when I took him into my mouth. He was so vocal, every reaction was a reward for my efforts, and it spurred me on. As much as I wanted to prolong it, to draw out every sound from his lips, I wanted to taste him even more.
His hands found purchase in my hair, and he had no qualms in showing me how he liked it. Fuck. And when I looked up at him, he was biting his bottom lip, and his chest was heaving. His eyes were smouldering and locked on where his cock disappeared into my mouth.
“Oh, God,” he ground out. “I’m gonna come.”
I sucked harder and pumped his shaft until he flexed under me and shot into my throat with a raspy cry. His whole body shuddered and jerked as his orgasm swep
t through him, and only when he slumped back onto the pillows and squirmed did I release him.
I kissed his nipple, which made him chuckle, and then his lips, which made him hum. I grabbed the bedcovers and pulled them up and lay down beside him in the nest of pillows he’d made himself. He snuggled in, I put my arm around him, and with just a few deep breaths between us, we dozed.
It had been a really long time since I’d lain in bed and just slept with a man. Normally I only ever spent time in bed with a guy for sex and sex only, but this was… nice.
Really, really fucking nice.
It was warm and comforting and safe.
It was hard to get my head around the fact I didn’t even know this man two weeks ago. Even more so, that up until yesterday, I was still trying to get him back with his ex. Not that I was trying overly hard—it was the last thing I actually wanted. God, I wanted him for myself, and here he was in my bed. In my arms.
And it all started because he paid me to get him back with his ex, and I wondered if the exchange of money made this weird.
Like he could read my mind, he said, “Um, about the contract…”
I sighed. “Can we just rip it up?”
He lifted his head up and looked at me. “I still owe you money.”
I barked out a laugh. “Ah, no you don’t. In fact, I think I should give you back what you paid me already.”
He shook his head. “No, you don’t need to do that.”
“I’d feel better if I did,” I told him honestly.
“But you did your job. Everything you planned to happen, did.”
“I didn’t plan for you to pick me,” I corrected gently. “I wanted you to.”
He chuckled. “Wrong word choice, sorry. But you still did your job.”
“I can’t take your money.”
“Spencer, you still have bills to pay, food to eat.”
“I’d feel… wrong, if I took it.” I cringed.
His eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”
“I dunno,” I hedged. “Like a rent-boy or something.”
Andrew’s mouth fell open. “Oh, Spencer. No.”
“Yep,” I grinned at him. “A rent-boy, paid for services rendered.”
