I smell the booze on his breath, sour and sweet and comforting. It’d been there the first time. And that first time, my heart had been beating hard like this. My hands had been shaking like this. I’d felt so dizzyingly uncertain and free.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he whispers.
“Kissing you.”
His breath hitches. My eyes flutter open, but only partially. Everything in my field of vision is fuzzy and gold. The only concrete thing is him. So it’s only natural that I lean into him, and that he slides his hands up my arms holding me up. And it’s, I guess, somewhat inevitable that we kiss.
I thought he would pull away. I expected him to. But he grips my shoulders hard enough to bruise and pushes me down on the couch. His knees dig into my thighs as he climbs on top of me, rough hands pushing into the hollows of my cheeks as he claims my mouth.
I gasp. His fingers trace my jawline until they capture my chin. He tilts my head up to get a better angle at my mouth, teeth grazing my bottom lip as his tongue fills me. His massive shoulders and his muscles tense beneath my grasp.
This kiss is different than any kiss we shared before. Kissing had always been like teasing. The recipient had always been somewhat awkward, and the initiator a bit hesitant.
There’d been nothing awkward about his reaction to my kiss, and now, as he takes control, there’s no hesitance.
My heart pounds in my chest as he pulls away. “Have you been with anyone else, Ash?”
“W-what does it matter?” I don’t recognize my voice. I sound like a boy, and he’s suddenly looking at me like I am one.
“Fuck.”
I gulp. “What does it matter? You didn’t want to talk about your love life and you’re right, it’s none of my business. Just like my love life is none of yours.”
He shuts his eyes, pushing himself off me. “Goddamn it.”
I sit up, balling my hands into fists. “What is wrong? Why did you stop?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because it’s a bad idea.”
“Why?”
“You’re still the same as you were.”
“And what, you’re too different?”
“Yeah, I am.” His eyes soften as they focus on my lips. “The way you are now, I’d ruin you.”
I shiver. My fully erect cock twitches, hitting my pants hard enough to make me wince.
“You’re getting turned on by that, aren’t you?” he whispers.
I gulp.
“Don’t deny it.”
I look down. “I’m not.”
“That just proves you aren’t ready for this. There’s nothing sexy about taking advantage of someone or being taken advantage of. I don’t want to do it.”
“You’re not taking advantage of me.”
“Oh really? If we fuck right now, what are you gonna do after? If I take you up on this, we’re right back where we were four years ago. Only this time, I won’t be the one getting hurt.”
I grit my teeth, just stopping myself from foolishly blurting out, I hurt too. Instead, I settle on the oh-so-much-more-mature, “What do you care?”
He looks down and picks his cowboy hat off the floor and sets it on the coffee table next to the beer. I guess it had fallen off at some point while we were kissing. Then, he folds his hands in his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
“Maybe not, but I’d feel bad if I did.” His dark eyes meet mine and I feel like I’m sinking. I can’t breathe, can’t do anything but slip into an almost weightless, fear-heightened desire for the unknown.
“It must’ve really hurt when your dad rejected you,” he says.
My throat closes up.
“I think the thing that bothered me most when when I stopped being angry was how much I knew you were hurting and how I couldn’t help you out with any of it. I mean, shit, you wouldn’t even talk to me. And when I showed up at your place before you left to go back East your dad came out accused me of stalking--”
I cringe. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I can’t believe I let that happen.”
“I couldn’t either. You were my best friend. You meant everything to me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. Are you even listening to me? I don’t hate you anymore. I never really did. I was just pissed and upset, and I let it get to me.” He shuts his eyes. “And I thought you were happy too. Back East, away from your dad, maybe you were finding a freedom you just couldn’t find out here. But I guess I was wrong.”
I can’t speak.
He looks up at me. “You’re still hurting, aren’t you?”
I slide my hand forward on the couch until my fingertips brush against his thigh. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just miss you.”
The admission hangs in the air. Neither of us look away.
His shoulders rise as he inhales. I feel his thigh muscle tighten as I lean forward. My palm hits the remote control and the TV goes silent. The droning documentary voice is replaced by the sound of running water and our own ragged, desperate breaths.
Our lips touch, again, this time softly. And I kiss him again with what he’d just previously suggested was ineptness. But it doesn’t matter because it’s exactly like it was the first time when we missed the fireworks. Back when we used to feel so openly and speak so honestly; when we loved so foolishly and so beautifully.
Suddenly, Jake pulls away. He kisses my cheek right before he whispers, “Not here.”
Chapter Three
After leading me past the kitchen, he lets go of my hand to open the door. It’s eggshell white and has a few dents in it. Someone had probably tacked a sign of some sort to it. I can see the remains of a few peeled back bumper stickers beneath the paint.
He opens the door. I enter and he follows, closing the door behind him.
Slivers of dim, muddy sunlight stream through the drawn blinds. The smell of cedar emanates from the closet; I guess he still follows his grandmother’s advice for keeping moths away. These things give me a false sense of comfort that disappears once I take in my surroundings.
The walls are bare and the room almost is. There’s only a double bed, a small wicker trash can lined with a plastic shopping bag, and a bedside table. On top of the bedside table is a lamp, a bong, a lighter, and something shiny that looks suspiciously like used condom wrappers.
Behind, I hear the rustling of clothes. The clink of metal as he undoes his buckle. The slippery sound his belt makes as the leather is yanked through the loops of his jeans. A thud as its discarded on the floor. But his footsteps are so soft I almost can’t hear them above my heartbeat.
Warmth spreads on the back of my neck as he whispers my name.
Ash.
I shudder. His hand finds my hip. Slowly, he slides it up, gathering my shirt. My muscles tense as his bare fingers slide over my bare skin.
“You still with me?” he asks.
I gulp, nodding.
“Good,” he says, and all the blood in my body goes directly to my cock. The thin sheen of sweat that covers my torso freezes once it’s exposed to air.
“Lift your arms,” he says.
I do, and he pulls off my shirt. I watch him throw it on the floor, just beyond the outline of my shadow.
Now, I’m cold and truly shivering. I want to feel his warm hands on me. His hot body over mine.
“Turn,” he says.
I do, crossing my arms over my chest as I face him.
I stop breathing.
This can’t be him. I don’t remember him being like this. So strong. So tall. So…everything. His body had always been beautiful, gorgeous, but now there was something unmistakably darker and rugged about it, like his muscles had been chiseled instead of sculpted.
He looks down at me, cupping my face. Goosebumps flare over my skin from the sudden warmth of his hands. “I remember you being like this.”
“Like what?”
“Scared, but ready for anything I gave you.”
�
�I’m not scared.”
“Nervous, then.” He lowers his hand, and my Adam’s apple bobs against the heel of his palm. “You’re still like that.”
I don’t say anything.
“Why are you still like that, Ash?”
“I don’t know.” I trust you. I always trusted you. And, more than that, I…
His hand moves down my back. “Tell me,” he whispers.
I shut my eyes. “You already know why.”
“Maybe, but I want to hear you say it.”
Fine. “Because I want you.” Because I never stopped wanting you. I open my eyes and look into his. “And I want you more than I’m afraid.”
He grips my shoulders and pushes me back. The backs of my knees hit the bed. My knees bend as I continue to fall.
He plants his hands on either side of my body and stares down at me. My cock strains against my pants as his hot, possessive gaze moves down my chest to the top of my pants. He pushes himself up and unbuttons and zips me free.
His hands move up the backs of my legs as the muscles in my ass clench. I’m not used to being touched there. I’m too sensitive. But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even seem to notice, as he grabs my jeans and pulls them down my legs. They catch on my shoes before he can get them all the way off, though.
“Jake,” I whisper, reaching down. “Let me get it.”
He makes some low, dark noise in response before pulling those off and ripping away my jeans.
I’m in nothing but the white cotton socks my mom sent me as part of my Christmas care package along with toothpaste, boxers, and bars of Castile soap. What happens now? I wonder, chest heaving, just before my mind registers it as the most unnecessary question it’s ever formed.
I feel his hot breath on my stomach, my cock, and then my balls as he kneels between my parted legs.
I gather the bedsheets in my fists. My toes curl inside my well-worn socks.
He pushes my knees back until they hit my chest. “Hold them back for me.”
I dig my thumbs into the backs of my knees, holding my shaking thighs to my chest as his tongue swirls around my balls.
My cock twitches, shifting up, then coming down softly on his forehead. He tilts his head up, licking the entire length of my shaft before running his tongue around my rim and taking me into his mouth.
I thrust up as the head of my cock hits the back of his throat. Jake doesn’t gag. Instead, the movement spurns him on and he sucks harder, rolling his tongue around my shaft as he takes me in deeper.
I grit my teeth and glance down.
He lets my dick fall out of his mouth. With one hand, he pushes it against his cheek as he licks my scrotum, looking right back at me with dark blue eyes. It’s too much, especially when he takes me back in his mouth, kissing my base as the back of his throat closes around my head.
I shut my eyes and let go, cumming deep in his throat. He sucks harder, his tongue moving so wildly around my shaft that it hurts.
He slowly releases me. I cry out as he jerks me once, gently, licking the last of my cum from my sensitive tip.
Holy shit.
I can’t breathe. Can’t think.
He stands, smiling. “Did you like that, Ash?”
I shut my eyes. Did I like it? Did it look like I liked that? “Fuck you.”
He laughs, slapping my ass--which he still has good access to, by the way, since I’m still holding my legs back. “In a moment. Keep your legs back.” Then, he walks to his bedside table.
My core tightens as I watch him open his draw and remove a condom and some lube.
I wonder how many people he’s brought back here. I wonder how long ago the last one was. There are three broken condom wrappers on the bedside table. The rest of the room was so clean. He would have thrown them away by now if they’d been there even for a few days, right? That meant he probably had someone here earlier…
The bed dips as he leans over me. “Open your mouth.”
I do as he says. His nail scrapes the roof of my mouth as he pushes it in. I roll my tongue around it, sucking gently, trying to bring myself back to this moment instead of everything that was and wasn’t between us.
He removes it. A drop of my own saliva spills on my chin. Slowly, he walks around the end of the bed before taking his place in front of me.
He glances down, running his wet finger along my ass. My muscles instinctively clench.
“Relax,” he whispers, slipping it into me, going to slow it almost feels like he isn’t even moving. I grip the sheets as he pulls it out at that same agonizingly slow pace, teasing me. I curl my back, pushing my ass closer to him. He brings his hand down, holding me still.
My cock’s getting hard again. I can’t take this anymore. I glare up at him.
“You ready?” he asks with a fucking smile. He’s enjoying this.
I gulp. Fuck you, I want to say again, but I can’t. I’m too turned on to think straight.
“Is your silence a no, Ash?”
I shut my eyes. “Yes, bastard.”
“Yes it’s a no or yes it’s a--?”
“Just fuck me.”
“Wow. Your language has gotten more colorful.”
More colorful? Since when did he use old timey phrases like that? “You’re a tease.”
His hand moves to his pants as he shakes his head, still smiling. “No,” he says as he unzips. “I just learned how to do it right. I was too eager when we were younger. I probably hurt you a lot. I’m sorry for that.”
My stomach twists. “Please don’t apologize for anything.”
His eyes flick to me. “Fine, but you can’t either.”
I open my mouth, then close it.
He doesn’t see, though. He’s ripping the foil and rolling the condom over the head of his cock.
My mind goes blank.
His cock.
Oh my god his cock. Was it always that big? How the hell did that ever fit inside me? How the hell was it going to fit inside me now?
“You’re tensing up, Ash.”
“Um…” I shut my eyes. It doesn’t help. His massive shaft invades my imagination like it’s the freaking Death Star intent on my ass’s destruction.
Then I feel his hands on said ass, tilting it up.
“Um...Jake? Were you always that big?”
He laughs.
I crack open my eyes. “This isn’t funny!”
“You weren’t this tense the first time.”
“That’s because it was dark. We were in the woods. I couldn’t see you very well the first time.”
“Look, I’ll admit that I wasn’t very...in control...that first time.”
No shit. Now, suddenly, I remember him pounding my poor little ass while I bit my lip to keep myself from screaming, unable to separate the pleasure from the pain to such an extent that it felt like my orgasm was ripped from me.
“I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” he continues. “You didn’t say anything.”
“It didn’t only hurt,” I babble.
“But it didn’t only feel good, either.” He takes out the lube and squirts some on his finger. “This is gonna help a lot.”
It better, because there are at least eleven inches of man down there.
His finger slips inside me again. Then another. I hug my knees to my chest.
“I’m not gonna apologize because you told me not to,” he says, “but I promise I’m not gonna hurt you again.”
My chest constricts. “I won’t either,” I whisper.
He doesn’t respond. Maybe, if I hadn’t seen the pain flicker in his eyes, I might have thought he hadn’t heard me. But that wasn’t it. For some reason, he just didn’t want to acknowledge what I’d said.
Before I can think of this any more, I feel his latex-clad head pushing into me.
Oh my god.
I tighten around him like it’s my first time all over again, and in a way it was. I gasp, grabbing the sheets, trying to hold onto something, to make sense of these full, b
eautiful feelings. And yet, a part of me doesn’t want to make sense of it. Maybe I’m still afraid to let him change me--or to let something in when I know I’ll only have to let it go.
And then he fills me completely, and I stop thinking.
He grabs my legs from my grasp and lays the backs of my knees against his chest. My calf muscles flex as he grabs my ankle, pushing his thumb into the sensitive hollow beside my heel. I feel his lips, his tongue, on my calf as he slides into me again.
“Look at me,” he demands.
I know I shouldn’t. I’ve already given too much of myself. But there’s a part of me that doesn’t care about my heart or my sanity. It just wants to feel. It’s been waiting years just to feel. So instead of listening to reason, I do.
At the moment our eyes meet, I tighten around him. It’s almost like no time has passed. I keep myself open as he pushes into me deeper, taking more.
I feel something hard and calloused take my fully erect cock. “Ash,” he says, jerking me as he fucks.
My foot curls around his neck. Anything, I think. I’ll do anything for you.
“Cum for me,” he says.
And again, I do.
Chapter Four
I curl into a ball on the edge of the bed and stare at into the reflection of the broken condom foils on the bong.
The bedsprings squeak as he moves closer to me. I feel his even breath in between my shoulder blades.
“Talk to me,” he says.
I wonder how many men he’s brought back here. I wonder if their faces all blur together in his mind until he can’t remember one encounter from the next. I wonder if he’ll remember me too like that.
It isn’t my business. He warned me. He wasn’t going to get hurt this time, and I didn’t want him hurt. I just…
I shut my eyes. “I’ll call Adam. I won’t bother you anymore.”
He rests his hand on my hip. “So you’re gonna leave again?”
I take a deep breath. “I know what this was. I’m not going to expect something different.”
He runs his fingers down my hip. “Look at me, Ash.”
I gulp. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know what this was,” I repeat. “I’m not here to...make you feel bad.”
You May Have Met Him Page 19
