by Cara McKenna
His gaze darted everywhere, from Adam’s cock flashing in and out between his thighs, to the man’s flushed face, flexed arms, tight abdomen. “You look so fucking good.”
“So do you.”
“Lemme kiss you.”
Adam lowered to his elbows, hips never losing the rhythm. Lips and tongues fought to be in control, and the contact and Adam’s flaring breaths were as hot as his driving cock. Stephen’s fist tightened, knuckles brushing Adam’s hard stomach as he stroked himself. The pleasure from his dick fed the sensations of getting fucked, getting kissed, the feedback loop screaming through his body, speeding him toward the point of no return. He eased his hand and his mouth, and Adam pushed up on his palms, staring down.
“Just had to slow down,” Stephen said, panting. “I want to beat you, but not this soon.”
It earned him a smirk.
“Do whatever you want,” Stephen said. “Just let me know when you’re getting close.”
Adam leaned back, holding Stephen’s thighs, taking him slower, deeper, dirtier. Each push brought the brush of his balls and a faint ache in Stephen’s hips. He hoped he’d feel it the next morning, a sore, happy reminder of all this to get him through an ugly day of relocating his things, leaving his old life behind. Moving on. Moving on, his brain echoed, eyes taking in the man owning his body.
“Can’t wait to see you lose yourself,” he murmured.
Adam could only reply in moans. Stephen studied his expression, those heavy lids, parted lips, pink cheeks. It had been forever since he’d been allowed to watch a man come undone, and it was hotter than the taboo or penetration or the need flooding his cock and balls. He felt more power lying on his back getting claimed than he thought he ever had, fucking the holy hell out of a prone man.
“I’m close,” Adam said.
Stephen could tell for himself, from the way Adam’s coordination faltered and the gasping breaths he sucked. Stephen fisted himself tightly, letting go. “Deep. Nice and deep.” He followed the directive himself, lifting his hips to meet Adam’s thrusts.
“God.” Adam dropped to his palms again, hammering hard and frantic. Stephen raced him, punishing his cock with harsh pulls until the pleasure reached a violent boil.
“Fuck. Fuck me.” He lost it. His head mashed the pillow, back arching, hand freezing as he shot, hot come basting his stomach. Before the spasms even waned he released himself, pulling hard at Adam’s side and sealing their bellies together so Adam could feel the evidence of Stephen’s surrender. Animal noises filled his ears for half a minute, until a gasp stole Adam’s voice and he rammed himself deep, holding there through his climax. Stephen kissed his temple and forehead, listening as he came down and recovered his breath.
After a few moments of dumbfounded stillness, Adam scooted back, easing out.
He disappeared into the next room, returning to toss Stephen one of two hand towels. They wiped away the spoils of their sex, and just as Stephen began to worry if he was supposed to be finding his pants and a motel to crash in, Adam flopped down beside him, letting go a long, satisfied sigh.
Stephen sat up to toss the towel aside, and he smiled down at Adam. At his lover, sudden as that new designation was. “Good?”
“Fucking hell. Yeah. Really good.” Adam blinked up at the ceiling.
Feeling confident he was allowed to stay put, Stephen lay down, letting the length of his arm press against Adam’s. To his happy surprise, Adam took his hand, giving it a couple soft thumps against the covers.
Stephen dropped his head to the side. “Cool if I sleep here?”
“After all that? It’s cool if I wake up and find my TV gone.”
Stephen laughed. “Brilliant. Thanks.”
“For the sex, or the TV?”
“Oh, you’ll find out.”
Another admonishing thump of their hands, then Adam said, “I think I’m about to drop into a coma. Anything you need before I do? Need the alarm set or anything?”
“Nope. I’m perfect.”
“Great.” With an exhausted sigh, Adam sat up to shift the covers from beneath him, and Stephen did the same. The sheets felt smooth and clean and crisp, different from the flannel ones Stephen had grown so accustomed to. Like a hotel bed. And like a hotel, the visit wouldn’t last long, but tourism was fun and not meant to be dampened with thoughts of what might come after. Stephen nudged Adam onto his side, spooning him from behind, and not caring if the gesture was clingy or bossy or wrong for a casual night of mutual rebound fucking. Felt good, and what else mattered, really?
Just before he dropped off, Stephen wondered how many messages and texts awaited him on his phone. He was shocked to realize he didn’t care. The question brought no anxiety, no guilt, no smug satisfaction. It was too much to hope that he’d just fucked his way through a breakup hangover. That pain would return soon, dramatic or anticlimactic, sharp or aching, ugly or civil, lingering or swift.
Who knew?
Who cared?
Who in heaven wanted to waste time worrying, when they could drift into oblivion, here in this handsome man’s bed?
Chapter Seven
Adam woke early, summer sunshine slipping between his blinds and warming his face, glowing pink through his lids. There was weight on his ribs—Stephen’s arm. His eyes flew open, the entire night flooding back in half a blink.
From the heavy, steady rhythm of Stephen’s chest rising and falling against his back, Adam knew the man was sound asleep.
He was out of practice at panicking after a one-night stand. Then again, the onus to panic fell usually to the person who was visiting, the host only burdened if they were eager to see the guest leave. And Adam wasn’t. It was a Sunday and he had no clients to meet, nothing at all planned for the day aside from a run if it wasn’t too hot, or a trip to the gym, a stop at the grocery store. And lying there with Stephen’s warm, bare body pressed to his was way nicer than any errand. Nope, he wasn’t in any hurry to kick his conquest out. He’d let Stephen make that call, and promised himself he wouldn’t be disappointed if the man took off before coffee.
But after twenty or more minutes of lazing, the sun grew hot on Adam’s face and nature called him from the bed. He slipped away without waking Stephen and padded across the room, pleased by all the clothes cluttering his floor.
He brushed his teeth and showered, wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at himself. He looked different, somehow. He felt different. Felt awake again, and interesting. Funny how restorative a bit of recreational sex could be. Sad how he’d wasted three weeks being glum when he could have been engaging in such a superior breed of recovery.
When he reentered the bedroom he found Stephen still there, still asleep. As he slid a dresser drawer open with a squeak, Stephen’s eyes opened. He blinked blearily.
“Morning,” Adam said.
“Morning.” He glanced around the room, but not the panicked glance of a formerly drunken man trying to figure out where he was. “What time is it?”
Adam looked to his alarm clock. “Just after nine. You late for church?”
Stephen smiled, the gesture looking dozy. “They should be so lucky, to have a sodomite like me among them. Keep the perverts behind the confessional screen employed, single-handed.”
“Single-handed?” Adam teased, pulling briefs up his legs.
“Depending on the priest, sure. Make that as literal as you fancy.” Stephen sat up, covers falling away to spoil Adam with a free show—the sexiest man he’d ever had the good fortune of waking up with, naked to the waist.
“What about you?” Stephen asked. “Am I keeping you from anything?”
“Nope. Just the paper and coffee. And I’ve got all day to get to those.” He tensed up then, wondering if he’d just missed some secret morning-after signal. Was he supposed to have made something up, something with a concrete start time, to give this man a diplomatic out?
But Stephen just tossed the covers aside and swung his legs to the floor. “Mind if
I use your shower?”
“Go for it. Help yourself to anything in there. I’ve got spare toothbrushes in the top drawer.”
“Cheers.”
“You drink coffee?”
“Please.”
Nice.
This wasn’t as bad as he’d feared at all, having a relative stranger in his house. There was a lot to be said for taking home guys whose personalities you could stand, guys you could cut loose around without being truly drunk—no hangovers, chemical or social, to suffer in the harsh light of day. Actually the light of day struck Adam as rather cheerful this morning.
If it didn’t seem like too much, he’d ask Stephen if he wanted to stroll downtown and grab brunch later. But that might be too eager. Plus the guy had to spend the day moving his stuff out of his ex’s place and presumably finding somewhere new to live. He had more important things to do than eat omelets and make small talk.
Adam got the coffee brewing and fetched the newspaper from the stoop. He heard the bathroom door open and the fan switch off, and a minute later Stephen wandered in from the bedroom, pulling his shirt over his chest. Adam found him a mug and set the coffeepot on the dining room table.
“Cheers,” Stephen said, pouring himself a cup. “And thanks for letting me crash here.”
“You make me sound so selfless,” Adam said with a grin. “Last night wasn’t exactly a hardship.”
“Good to know. That today’s paper?”
Adam nodded.
“Has it got a local listings section? Flats?”
“Oh, probably.” He sifted through the sections, finding the classifieds. “Here you go.”
“Ta. I’m probably stuck with a shady motel until something decent opens up, but it can’t hurt to check.”
They browsed their respective pages in what Adam hoped was easy silence. After a long lapse in conversation he asked, “Any luck?”
Stephen shrugged, setting the pages aside. “Nah, but who still advertises vacancies in the paper, eh? I’ll have better luck with Craigslist. And better luck come the first of the month, probably.”
“Yeah, probably.” Adam wished they knew each other well enough for him to offer Stephen an invite to crash here for a couple weeks, but alas. He was old and wise enough not to make such impulsive proposals, not while he was still tipsy and dim-witted from the sex.
“Guess I better head out soon,” Stephen said. “Let you get on with your day. And find out if my meager worldly possessions have been scattered all over the front garden.”
Adam made a sympathetic face.
“Not likely, though.” Stephen stood and drained his cup. “He’s not one for a scene.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah. Small mercies. Well…” He looked around, as though he’d just forgotten where he was. “Thanks again.”
Adam got to his feet. “Seriously, not a problem.” Come by any night and nail me to my mattress. Really.
Stephen checked his pockets for the essentials then they wandered through the living room and down the steps to the front hall. Adam watched as his one-night stand laced his boots, wondering where he’d spot him next. Hadley’s maybe. Or maybe he’d catch himself scouring every construction site he passed for that surly, sexy face.
“Well,” Stephen said, standing up straight. “Thanks for the hot fucking.”
Adam laughed. “I try, I try.” He flipped the deadbolt and pulled the door open, sunshine spilling in.
Were they supposed to shake hands now? Adam couldn’t remember. Seemed like the curt, no-nonsense thing to do, the Stephen with a P-H thing to do.
“Well,” Stephen said again. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“You too.” Adam smiled, squinting in the bright sunlight.
Stephen blinked at him. “Jesus, you’ve got blue eyes.”
“Do you need a lift or anything?”
Stephen shook his head. “I could use the walk, to steel myself. And I could do without the drama of maybe getting spotted, being dropped off by some strange, hot bloke after staying out all night.”
“You know the way back to wherever you’re headed?”
“Oh yeah, it’s not too far. Think I know where I am. There’s an auto shop just around the corner, right?”
Adam nodded. “Would you…” He stalled out.
“Would I like to meet for a coffee or something sometime?” Stephen ventured.
“I was going to say lunch, next weekend. Then I worried it sounded too… You know.”
“Who doesn’t like lunch? Unless I’m busy moving or something, I’d like that. Especially if you know a decent Indian place in this so-called city.”
“I do indeed.”
“Then you’re on. We both broke a rule and screwed on the first date—hell, before the first date—so we probably ought to go out and maybe not fuck, to make up for it.”
“Deal.”
“Promise I won’t moan about my ex through the whole thing, either.”
“Ditto.” Adam fished out his phone and they dictated their numbers to each other.
They paused a moment then Adam put his hand out. Stephen shook it, and Adam felt relieved and happy when the man leaned in to give him a half-hug, rubbing his back.
“Thanks again,” Stephen said. “Hopefully I’ll see you next weekend.”
“Hope so. Nice to meet you. Good luck with your move.”
“Ta.” Stephen trotted down the steps, turning to raise his hand in a wave as he reached the end of the driveway. Adam raised his back.
Too early to be getting his hopes up, making restaurant reservations for the next weekend, too early to even presume he had the first clue how he’d feel about that man by then. Far too early to get hung up on anyone, certainly. Still…
He imagined finding a good excuse to text him something funny in a couple days. Better yet, getting texted first.
Felt likely he’d stop by Hadley’s a couple nights this week for a quick beer. Very likely.
Just in case he might spot a now-familiar face, someone also at a loose end, in need of a cool drink, an easy conversation…in the mood to kick his ass at pool.
About the Author
Cara McKenna writes smart erotica: a little dark, a little funny, definitely sexy and always emotional. She lives north of Boston with her extremely good-natured and permissive husband. When she’s not trapped inside her own head, Cara can usually be found in the kitchen, the coffee shop or the nearest duck-filled pond.
Cara welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think
We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].
Also by Cara McKenna
Backwoods
Brazen
Curio
Dirty Thirty
Don’t Call Her Angel
Getaway
Ruin Me
Shivaree
Skin Game
Willing Victim
Print books by Cara McKenna
Lessons in Letting Go anthology
Off Limits anthology
Stray Hearts anthology
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com
>
