by Sarina Bowen
No surprise at all, really.
Kieran’s woodsy scent overpowers me, and his kisses are scorching. I’m done trying to fight all the things I feel for this man. I may end up ruining our friendship. I may even get my heart broken.
But some people are worth the risk, aren’t they? I have a feeling in my bones that Kieran Shipley is one of them.
Kieran
One kiss. That’s all it took to untie my control.
I’ve tried to be so fucking patient. But the moment he looked at me with those liquid eyes in the truck, I just snapped.
And so did he. There are two strong hands on my shoulders, telling me what he needs. Every kiss draws us closer. I didn’t know kisses could run so deep and dark. I taste more of Roderick than of myself.
I am amazed by so many things. The scent of his skin. The force of his tongue against mine. And my own boldness as I latch my hand to the back of his neck and whisper against his lips, “I want you.” It’s the truest thing I’ve ever said in my life. I am made of wanting.
In answer, Roderick’s hand slides down my chest. And when it keeps going—his fingertips parting my jacket, grazing my abs, searing me through the thick cotton of my shirt—I break out in a sweat. Then he reaches for my belt buckle.
And tugs.
I make a noise of shocked elation when he unbuckles my belt and pops the button on my jeans. My old fantasies keep unspooling as he lowers my jeans by a couple crucial inches and drops to his knees.
I hear myself gasp as Roderick curls a hand around my hard cock. I stare in wonder as he draws it out of my briefs. And I can’t stop a low groan from escaping as he lifts his chin, looks me right in the eye, and takes the head into his mouth.
Liquid heat. Pressure and bliss. This is how my obsession with him began, isn’t it? A hasty blowjob in the dark. His eyes glittering with lust.
I wasn’t ready for him back then, though. I could only watch, never speaking my desires aloud. But I’m not that frightened boy anymore. My head thunks against the door as he weighs me against his tongue. His expressive eyes lift to show me how invested he is in pleasing me.
Waiting eight years almost seems worth it right now. For me, this is so much more than reliving a teenage fantasy. I run a hand through Rodrick’s hair the way his partner feared to do all those years ago. It’s incredibly soft against my palm. Maybe I’m a late bloomer, but I’m all in now.
And not for just any guy. I’m all in for him.
Roderick slows his movements, teasing me, watching me with wide, curious eyes as I respond to each new thing that he does. He’s not hesitant. I can tell he’s just enjoying putting on a show.
I drop my hand beneath his chin, cupping his face. Slowly, I trace my thumb over his top lip, where it stretches around my cock. He closes his eyes and lets out a little moan that I can feel all the way through my groin. Then he takes a deep breath and gives a firm, measured suck, and another and another.
Before long, he’s found a rhythm that I can’t resist. My breath comes in shocked gasps. I am not used to getting what I want even when I manage to ask for it, so it’s pretty overwhelming when it finally happens.
I can’t hold still. I have to thrust my hips, pushing myself into Roderick’s willing mouth. And I may or may not be making loud, desperate sounds as he takes me deeply again and again. It’s too much, and it’s going to be over too fast. I’ll lose him again. I’m sure of it.
Somehow I find the will to catch his perfect face in my hand. “Wait,” I rasp. “I need to touch you.” If tonight is all I get, I need to make it last.
He pops off me, his lips red and swollen, his eyes flashing. I tug him to his feet and then kiss him again, because I can’t help myself.
Clumsy with lust, and unwilling to break our kiss, I begin to guide him toward the living room. The fire I’d made in the fireplace is down to orange coals. It provides just enough light to steer Roderick around the sofa and onto the rug.
I give him a little shove, hoping he takes my hint.
By some miracle, he lowers his body down to the rug, then looks up at me with big eyes. For a moment, I could swear that he’s about to come to his senses and bolt. But that’s not what happens. He lifts his shirt over his head, showing me that tight chest that makes me so thirsty, with its trail of dark hair leading south into his jeans. “I like the way you think,” he says.
I kneel down and practically pounce, popping the button on his jeans, then unzipping him.
He seems completely in control as he lifts his hips to let me tug the jeans down. Like getting naked in the living room is no big deal. Maybe it isn’t for him.
It sure is for me. I can’t stop staring at his golden body in the firelight, where shadows play over his lean, muscular thighs. I reach out and run a hand down his quadriceps, admiring the scrape of hair against my palm. This time I’m sober. This time I plan to remember every little thing about touching him.
He doesn’t make me wait, either. He kicks off his shoes and socks until there’s nothing left but miles of skin and a jutting erection. It’s the only part of him that isn’t smaller than me.
“Damn,” I whisper at the florid sight of him. I want to reach out and stroke him.
“Do it,” he whispers, reading my thoughts.
I’ve come this far, right? So there’s no point in being shy. I lean down, bumping my forehead against his taut stomach before I give his shaft a slow lick.
“Fuck. Yeah. Jesus,” he breathes. “More.”
I open my mouth, slowly sliding the hard knob of his cockhead between my lips, until he lands heavily on my tongue. This is really happening. I grasp the base of his cock in one hand and caress his thigh with my other one.
Roderick’s moan makes me bold. I lean in and take him in a little farther, playing with the depth and the suction.
My vivid fantasies, I discover, only got some of the details right. His skin is as hot and smooth as I’d imagined. The fullness of his cock in my mouth feels divine. And Roderick’s moan of happiness is just as loud as I’d hoped.
But I’m not very good at this. It’s hard to take him deeply into my mouth and still breathe.
“Easy,” he says, laying a hand in my hair as I manage to choke myself. “It’s not a race. Take a break if you need it.”
But I don’t want a break. I’ve wasted so much time already. Years and years. What’s more, I recognize the danger of stopping just long enough to let everybody overthink this. Roderick might suddenly remember why he doesn’t want to get involved with me.
I relax my throat and adjust my angle. And that works better for me. Bracing my forearm on the rug, I take him as deeply as I dare.
“Oh God. You’re a quick study,” he gasps, stroking my hair. “Fuuuuuck.” His hips writhe happily, and my chest swells with pride. “Why aren’t you naked right now?” he pants.
Good question. I pop off him and hastily unbutton my shirt. A fleeting concern about stripping in the living room flashes through me. Someone might see. But the orange glow from the fireplace is barely bright enough to show me Roderick’s golden body stretched out like a Renaissance painting. And what a sight it is—especially the sheen of his wet cock where I’ve been sucking him. Just the view makes me want to come.
I shuck off my pants and underwear in a big hurry. Getting naked in the middle of the room feels more bold and adventurous than sleazy.
“That’s more like it,” he says as I shed the last of my clothes. “God, you’re so hot it melts my brain.”
Usually, compliments embarrass me. But he punctuates this sentence by rolling toward me, his tongue finding my cock with an accuracy that makes me gasp. His gorgeous mouth takes me in. All I can do is lean back on the rug and breathe through my excitement.
But then I get greedy. I want even more. So I curl toward him, maneuvering so we’re both lying on our sides, sixty-nine style. I grasp his hip and tug until his erection enters my mouth.
He hums in response, and I can feel it on my
cock.
It’s almost too much to handle—the double pleasure of sucking and being sucked. And as if that weren’t enough, his hands slide between my legs, stroking my balls, teasing the crack of my ass.
Meanwhile, my mouth is stuffed full of him, and I like the feeling more than I would have ever guessed. Everything about this moment is a revelation.
Roderick shifts his hips and groans, and a drop of briny desire hits my tongue. For some reason, this makes me impossibly horny. I can barely concentrate as he licks and sucks and worships me with his tongue. The blowjob I’m giving gets even sloppier, as I grow ever more desperate for my own release.
“Look out,” Roderick suddenly slurs around my dick.
I back off on command. And the moment I do, he moans happily and comes all over my hand and my chest.
And that’s all it takes for me, too. I let out a startled gasp and immediately unload several weeks’ worth of sexual tension into his perfect mouth. I feel him swallow, and then he moans again.
Sexiest. Sound. Ever.
“Damn,” I whisper, my head rolling onto his thigh. “Sorry.”
He’s breathing hard, too. “Holy hell. I can’t unclench my toes.” His head thunks onto the floor. We’ve rolled halfway off the rug. “Wow.”
Breathing hard, I try to get some more air into my lungs. I don’t really want to come down from this high, but I guess it’s inevitable. Roderick rolls out from under me, disengaging. He picks himself up off the floor and pads out of the room without a word.
Resting my head on the rug, I stare up at the ceiling. I’m covered in jizz, and I’m unsettled. Is that it? He’s just gone? It makes me wonder if I did something wrong. Is he pissed off that I didn’t have time to warn him before I—
Hell. Did I screw up big-time?
If I didn’t feel sleazy before, I’m starting to now.
From the kitchen, I hear a sequence of beeps from the oven. Then a faucet flips on somewhere in the house. A moment later, he pads onto the rug and kneels beside me, looking me right in the eyes. “I’m preheating the broiler.”
“The broiler?” I echo stupidly. “I don’t even know what that is.”
Roderick smiles at me. And then, in what feels like yet another miracle, he leans down and presses a slow kiss to my lips. “I need you to get up and follow me.” He plucks his underwear off the floor and rises to his feet again.
“Okay?” Maybe he’s not mad at me after all?
He steps into his briefs and marches out of the room again, beckoning me. Still feeling stoned, I follow him dumbly into the downstairs bathroom.
“Get in.” He points at the big, clawfoot tub, which is beginning to fill with water. “Wait for me.”
I look down at the tub, where water streams from the faucet. “Okay?”
“Go on.” He gives me a pat on my bare ass. Then he leaves.
I wipe myself up a little before stepping into the tub. When I sit down, the water is wonderfully hot against my cooling skin. I close my eyes and try to make sense of this crazy evening. I haven’t taken a bath since I was seven. And why does Roderick want me to?
He reappears a few minutes later. He drops his shorts, turns off the water, and steps carefully into the opposite end of the tub. I can’t help but gaze admiringly at his bare body. That V of muscle at his hips almost makes me feel horny all over again.
I’m not sure we’re both going to fit into this bath, and I don’t understand why he’d want to try.
Roderick lowers himself into the water. There isn’t enough space for his legs, so he weaves them between mine. The contact makes my heart jump. Nobody ever touches my naked body. I mean never. The brush of his leg hair against mine is seriously unfamiliar. So is the stroke of the arch of his foot against my inner thigh.
Heat rises from my skin, and it’s not because of the water. I don’t know if I can play it cool when we’re face to face in the bright bathroom light. “So…why did you call this meeting?” I ask.
The words come out sounding nonchalant, but I’m freaking out inside, and it has nothing to do with the fact that I just sucked a dick. That was fun, and I’m game to do it again. But now he wants to talk to me? I have never felt more naked than I do right now.
“Well,” he begins, leaning back, resting his elegant head on the rim of the tub. He looks as comfortable as ever. “In the first place, our oven needs a few minutes to preheat. And I’ve been wanting to try out the tub for a while. Plus, I think better when I’m submerged.”
“With me?”
“Yeah.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “It’s obvious that we were going to do that again, right? What with you giving me that…” He waves his hand in my general direction. “…brown-eyed smolder you’ve got going on. And me with insufficient self-control to resist a hunky farm boy.”
“Smolder?” I don’t know much, but I’m sure I’ve never smoldered.
“You’re just so—” He lets out a sigh. “So irresistible to me. I don’t think I can stay out of your bed. Or off your dick. If you want me on it, that is.”
I think he’s being flip, but I feel my blood stir anyway. “Does that mean you’re not going to freak out this time?”
Propping his head in his hand, he studies me. His gaze is warm, but I still feel uncomfortable. Just because I want Roderick, doesn’t mean I want to be closely observed.
“Look,” he says. “I never meant to break all my own rules tonight, but the truth is I like you way too much. So even though it’s a bad idea to jump on your roommate, I’m happier right now than I’ve been in a long time.”
All I can do is sort of stare at him for a long beat. Nobody has ever said anything like that to me before. I made Roderick happy, with rough kisses and clumsy hands.
It’s more miraculous than my chicken with garlic and herbs, that’s for damn sure.
“Say something,” he says suddenly. “Or at least smile, damn it. Did I just overstep? Did I freak you out?”
“Fuck no,” I say, but it comes out like a growl. “I’m smiling on the inside.”
He blinks. And then he tilts his head back and laughs so loudly that it bounces off the tiled bathroom walls.
“What?” I grumble. “I’m serious.”
“I know.” He reins in his laughter and smiles at me. “That’s why it’s funny. I never met anyone like you. I have zero filter, and you’re made of filter. It’s like armor. You never take it off.”
That’s probably true, but it’s also irrelevant. “Where do we go from here, though? What happens next?”
“Well, pizza,” he says, splashing some water onto his face and then shaking his head like a happy dog. “I went outside in my underwear and rescued it from your truck. I’ll pop it into the oven in a minute.”
“I meant after pizza.” Roderick is this bright, shiny thing in my life, and I need to know whether or not to feel hope.
“Oh. Well, that depends on you. Bend your knees?”
“What?” It takes me a beat to keep up, but then I do. His legs slide off mine when I lift my knees. And now I’m literally open and vulnerable in this ridiculous position.
But not for long. Roderick gathers up his smaller body and then moves forward into the space between my legs. “We need to eat that pizza,” he says, propping his hands on the tub rim on either side of me. “But then we could watch more of our show. Maybe in your bed?”
“Okay,” I say quickly as his blue eyes come closer.
“And here I thought tonight was a disaster,” he says, leaning down to kiss me.
If this is a disaster, I’ll take it all night long.
Roderick
I think I may have blown Kieran’s mind, along with his cock. When I carry a tray into his bedroom after our bath, he’s standing by his dresser, looking a little stunned.
“Grab your laptop?” I ask. “It’s under my arm.”
“Sure.” He unsticks himself and grabs it, dropping his towel in his haste.
“Thanks,” I say, giving
his naked body an appreciative glance. God, the view.
I don’t know what I was thinking when I’d decided we couldn’t fool around. And I’m still not super sure why he’s even interested. Kieran should have a guy whose life isn’t a dumpster fire. A guy whose car isn’t dead, and who can afford to buy groceries.
“Come and eat this while it’s warm.” I sit down, settling the tray on my lap.
“Whoa.” He walks over to take a plate and looks at the pizza like he’s never seen it before. “It looks better than it usually does. Maybe this place is upping their game.”
“Well… I put some diced red peppers, minced garlic, and pecorino cheese on top before I broiled it. I hope you don’t, uh, hate peppers.” I really should have asked.
“I don’t hate anything,” he says, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed.
“Well that’s a relief. I’m trying to eat more vegetables and not as many carbs. It’s hazardous to be around bread all day.”
He takes a bite and chews. He keeps sneaking glances at me, like there’s something he can’t figure out.
“Is the pizza okay?”
“It’s great,” he says immediately.
“So then why are you giving me that look?”
He looks down at his plate. “Well, what are the rules?”
“Rules? You mean for me and you?”
“Yeah. The rules. I like to know where I stand.”
I set a pizza crust down on my plate and turn to look at him. I like to know where I stand, he’d said. As I gaze into his light brown eyes, I realize that it’s a simple request, but it’s not a demand that I’ve ever learned to make.
I’ve gotten too used to living on the edge, never knowing where I stand. At seventeen, I knew I could get kicked out of my parents’ house at any moment. Eventually I did. And at nineteen, I learned not to trust anyone, because they might rob you in your sleep.
So it’s really no surprise that I spent three years with a man who refused to even acknowledge our relationship. I offered myself to him without reservations, and he treated me like the snack buffet on the club level of a fancy hotel—grazing on my love when it suited him, and ignoring me the rest of the time.
