Between These Sheets

by Devon McCormack

  “I’m gonna go home,” I say.

  “I’ll come with you. Like you said, I shouldn’t be driving right now anyway.”

  “No. I can call you an Uber or something.”

  He freezes, a stunned expression on his face, as if he doesn’t understand what just happened. “Where’s the fun in that?” he asks.

  “I’m sorry I led you on like that, but I’m your boss. You’re my employee. That’s all there is to it.” I’m starting down the stairs when I feel him grab my arm.

  I whirl around, my instincts reacting before I can even think it through. In a moment, I have my hand around his throat and I’m pinning him to a column at the top of the stairs.

  “Shit, shit, shit! Sorry,” he says.

  Fuck. I release him quickly, staring at my hand in horror, as if it was responsible for my actions rather than me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I just need to go.”

  How does he manage to activate every trigger—every defensive impulse—within me?

  I grab my keys out of my pocket and start through the parking lot.

  My thoughts race. I can’t believe what I just did to him. He must think I’m a violent bastard. I crossed the fucking line. Serves me right for going out for a drink with a co-worker. I should have told him to fuck off when he asked if I wanted to talk. What if he wants to file a complaint for me fucking assaulting him? What if I lose my job over this?

  “Reese, Reese,” Jay says behind me. I don’t turn to him. I can’t look at him after what I just did. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

  As much as he tries to soothe me, he can’t understand. It’s not just about the fact that I hurt him. It’s about being out of control. That I’m so fucking out of my mind that I couldn’t even think before violently responding to him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve worked so hard to keep myself stable. But I know why I’m on such high alert right now. I know what keeps nagging at me that I refuse to think about. That I never want to think about again. It’s why I’ve thrown myself into work the way I have recently. Why I’ve been losing sleep. Why I was reckless enough to come out here today and let my guard down with a guy who reminds me so much of Caleb.

  I’m a fucking mess.

  “Reese, are you okay?” he asks.

  I turn back to him. “I’m fine.” Problem is, I know just how far from fine I really am. And I can tell by his skeptical expression that he doesn’t buy the lie.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was trying to do the opposite. I just… I assumed since you…” He glances at my crotch again. “I don’t know what I assumed. I mean, you are gay, right?”

  Even though there’s no one else in the parking lot, it’s weird that he’s saying it out loud. Like someone’s going to come around the corner and be freaked out by him broadcasting what we are.

  “The only thing that matters to you is that I’m your boss,” I say.

  “Okay, I get it. But if you do want something else, I’m down.”

  My erection becomes even more painful. I do want something else. I want it so bad. Not just because he’s hot as hell and because it felt fucking amazing in the bathroom, but because it would give me an escape from the thoughts that hound me every day.

  I should say no and get him off my back.

  I walk toward my car, and seemingly beyond my control, like when I assaulted him, I say, “Come on.” He follows me to my car and hops in with me.

  We don’t talk to each other. I’m busy trying to convince myself what a horrible idea this is, but I’ve already surrendered to the primal desire within me. We’ve crossed the line. And now that we’re less than a couple minutes from my house, I’m ashamed of how easily I caved to my horny-as-fuck impulses.

  It’s just been so long since I’ve felt any sort of ease, and after that kiss, I know he’s what I need right now. He’s the only thing that can shake me from my obsessive thoughts about Caleb for even a moment.

  I’ve worked so hard to get where I am to fuck it up with this indiscretion, but reason can’t save me from how much I want his body right now.

  7

  Jay

  He blew my mind.

  I was relieved when I saw that hard cock in his pants. Figured we could give each other some relief. I’ve wanted to give him that ever since I saw him in so much pain the other day. I’ve wanted to give him as much as he needed. I figured it’d be hot, but when I kissed him, something about our chemistry stirred a passion I’m not used to experiencing. I fuck plenty of guys. Not ashamed of it, which is why I know when it’s beyond the mechanics. And Reese…Oh, God, I’ve got some serious chemistry with him.

  He woke up every part of my body, every nerve in my flesh. I want the stroke of his strong hands running across my muscles and the taste of those lips on my tongue.

  I thought I wasn’t going to have any issue getting him to fuck around once he knew where we both stood, but when he fled the bathroom, I was totally thrown. What kind of guy doesn’t want a piece of ass when it’s offered up to him like I offered up mine?

  Clearly he’s attracted to me. I can’t imagine that raging boner was for someone else in that piece-of-shit bar.

  When we reach his place, a one-story house in a subdivision, we get out and he glances around at his neighbor’s places, as if he’s worried one of them will catch him bringing home his evening trick.

  Considering how quiet he’s been, I’m a little unsure about what’s going to happen. He wants to fuck. Otherwise he wouldn’t have brought me back, but he’s uneasy about it. Ashamed. I’m not sure I want him like that. Normally, I wouldn’t fuck a guy who appears as conflicted as he does, but the fire between us, I’m not going to turn that down for anything…even if that means he winds up punching me in my fucking face halfway through because he can’t get this PTSD shit under wraps.

  He leads me up the front porch and into the house.

  It’s a nice place. More than nice. It’s OCD clean—something I’m a little shocked to see.

  A living area with gray-upholstered sofas and chairs are placed in front of a wall-mounted large-screen TV. A few side tables have statues and some interesting, thought-out décor on them. Nothing like my place, which Reese would think was more like somewhere a frat guy might live.

  On the other side of the room, a bar divides the kitchen from the rest of the place. A small stack of mail sits on the edge of the bar.

  I wander inside behind Reese, glancing around, looking for pictures of his family or something. Some indication that he’s actually a person. Nothing like that. Just some framed artwork. One of the pieces stands out more than the others. A gray framed painting hangs beside the TV. It looks like the profile of a man gazing down.

  Strange.

  As he reaches the bar, he turns back to me and rests his hands on his hips. His dick is still hard as a fucking rock. How can he maintain that raging boner?

  I approach him slowly, cautiously. If he wants to do this, he needs to make the first move. He needs to show me he really wants to follow through. Otherwise, I need to get an Uber and go home.

  He sizes me up. He’s seen me plenty of times at work, so I can’t imagine what the fuck he could be looking for now. When I realize he’s not getting to this quickly, I try to make small talk. “That’s a cool picture,” I say, referring to the one of the man’s profile.

  He comes at me so swiftly I’m not sure if he’s going to kiss me or deck me, but I’m relieved when his lips crush against mine. He pushes me to the side and shoves me against the wall like he did in the bathroom at the bar. He wraps his arm around me and presses his hand against my back, forcing my torso tight against his.

  His hard dick is stiff against my crotch. And I’m pissed that we’re still wearing clothes because I feel he should just be buried within my hole. Don’t know why that’s where my mind goes because I’m always the top, but Reese seems like the kind of man who needs to dominate someone. And
I’d love to be the one whose ass he owned.

  He pulls his hand from my back, grabs my arm, and spins me around. Pushing my chest up against the wall, he reaches around and unbuttons my pants before yanking them down.

  “God, you have the sexiest fucking ass in the world,” he says, feeling up and down my sides. He gropes at my flesh, his fingers tight against me as he probes.

  “It’s yours,” I say because I don’t give a fuck what he wants to do with it.

  He squats, trailing his fingers down my obliques until his face is right at my ass. As he grips onto my cheeks, I pull my shirt over my head and throw it aside.

  He pushes my cheeks apart and spits on my hole before shoving his face against it. He licks, exciting my nerves with a good rimjob.

  “Well, you’re obviously no virgin,” I say.

  “Tasted some good hole in my day.” He takes a moment before returning to his work.

  I spread my legs as much as I can with my pants around my ankles, and I arch my back so that my ass pushes even closer to his face, inviting him to take it as he pleases.

  I glance back and catch him licking his forefinger and middle finger before inserting them inside me. “I’m really tight,” I warn.

  “Yeah, you are.” He’s excited about it. Like he’s eager to get inside me.

  I’m worried about taking that big cock. As much as I’ve fucked these past few months, I haven’t bottomed once. And I’m also confused as fuck about how his fake leg is going to work during all this.

  As he massages his way into me, I let those worries go and enjoy the sensations he stirs. “Jesus fucking Christ!” I say. He stops pushing in, but I don’t want that. I think he mistook my eagerness for discomfort. “That felt good,” I say. “Keep going. I need you to open me up.”

  He licks my ring as he pushes farther in, moving his fingers in a half circle before going back the other way. He adds another finger.

  “Holy fuck!” It stimulates me just right. The guy might be quiet, but he’s obviously no stranger to fucking.

  “I just want you to be ready for my cock,” he says. “I want you to be able to take all of it.”

  “I want to take it all.”

  He pulls back out, and I fear he might have changed his mind. Remembered what an absolutely shit idea this is considering our work situation.

  I turn around as he starts to get up from the floor, but as he reaches halfway up my body, he wraps an arm around me, and before I know it, he hoists me into the air and carries me through the house, into a hallway beside the kitchen.

  I wonder for a moment how he can be fucking carrying me like this with his leg, but I used to hit the gym with a guy who wore a prosthetic leg, and he could deadlift twice his fucking body weight. And it’s obvious based on Reese’s physique that he spends plenty of time at the gym.

  Reese takes me down a hallway, into a bedroom, and sets me on a queen-sized bed so that I’m lying on my back. He pulls my shoes off and slides my pants and boxer briefs down my legs, tossing them onto the floor as he removes each one. He’s still fully clothed, and here I am, completely exposed, totally vulnerable. Totally his to do whatever the fuck he wants with.

  “You have the hottest little body,” he says, as if he just now noticed.

  “I don’t hit the gym for nothing.” I’m cocky about it, but I work hard, so I feel like I have a right to be, and his interest doesn’t appear to let up, so I don’t think he gives a damn how conceited I may be. He likes what he sees enough to disregard a lot just so he can be up in my hole.

  He heads to a nightstand by the bed and retrieves condoms and lube. Wouldn’t have mattered if he hadn’t had condoms because I have one in my pocket along with a lube packet I left there when I almost tricked out with a guy on Grindr. Before the asshole flaked.

  As he tosses the condoms and lube on the bed, I prop myself up on my elbows. “Why don’t you show me that hot body of yours?” I ask. He smirks. It’s clear by his expression that he’s confident about what he’s got.

  He unbuttons his shirt slowly, as if he’s revealing some great secret, which can’t be all that secret considering I can tell he’s got a great muscly bod under that shirt. Only so much he can do to hide that.

  When he’s finished unbuttoning, he slides it off, letting it fall behind him.

  I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I knew it was good, but not this good. Four distinct lines cross through either side of his fucking eight-pack, creating sharp shadows beneath them. I’m jealous as shit at how defined he is. I work my butt off to look half as jacked up.

  “Those are some fucking nice abs,” I admit. “And that chest…and those fucking biceps…I bet that dick’s just as good.”

  He removes his shoe on his left foot and his sock before sliding his pants and underwear down to the floor.

  There’s the prosthetic. A curved dip in the metal makes space for his knee, and what looks like some sort of gray liner extends over his leg, but I can’t really tell how much of his leg he still has below the knee.

  I wonder if he’s leaving the limb on or taking it off. I want to ask, but I’m not going to. I’m just going to roll with whatever he’s comfortable with, especially since I can tell by the sad expression on his face that his confidence has taken a hit.

  He slowly steps out of the leg of his jeans. Then he looks up at me—I can tell to gauge my reaction. I look right into his eyes to let him know it doesn’t bother me. I mean, it won’t as long as he can still fuck me good with that fat cock of his.

  He crawls onto the bed and positions his face at my legs. “You got a pretty good cock you’re working with too,” he says before he takes it into his mouth.

  I toss my head back and run my fingers through his blond tufts as he goes down on me, proving that he’s as good with his tongue in the front as he was in the back. He stimulates my cock with his lips and tongue before his hand joins in on the action. He grips onto the base of my shaft while he encircles the head with his tongue, moving his hand and mouth in sync with one another, creating a rhythm that leaves me gasping with pleasure. “You sure know how to suck a dick,” I say.

  He stops. “I sure know how to do a lot of things,” he says before abandoning my dick. He grabs the condom from beside me and suits up.

  My body tenses as he spreads my legs, and I know it’s because he’s so big. I’m fucking nervous as hell. But I want it.

  I like the look in his eyes, full of desire and lust.

  He lathers some lube on his fingers before sticking them back into me. It feels good, but not good enough. “Just give me what I want,” I beg.

  “What do you want?” I can tell by the way he says it he already knows. He wants me to say it.

  “I want your fucking cock inside me. I want you to make me feel good. I want you opening me up like you do all your good bottoms.”

  He accepts the invitation, pulls his fingers out, and spreads some lube across his dick before pressing the head against my hole, pushing.

  He studies me. “In case you’re wondering, this is against company policy.” Serious as he looks, I can tell by the way he says it, he’s not discouraged.

  Even after opening me up with his fingers, I’m still tight, my body unwilling to let him in easily.

  “That fucking tight hole of yours just needs to be loosened up, doesn’t it?”

  I’m worried he’ll push in too quickly. But he doesn’t. He moves slowly, my body adjusting to his girth. As his cock pushes in just right, a shot of adrenaline races through my veins. I forgot how nice it can be to be filled, especially with one this thick.

  He stares at me seriously as he keeps pushing in. A surge of excitement moves through my body, energizing my nerves with a thrill I haven’t experienced in a long time. The intensity forces me to open my mouth and moan as I enjoy the sensations that overwhelm me.

  Reese smiles again. He obviously likes the show I’m putting on, so I won’t disappoint him. I keep calling out until he leans down and kisses me w
ith those wet, passionate kisses like the ones we shared in the bathroom.

  He picks up his pace, and with each push, I feel his cock jam against my prostate, making my cock stiff as a board. Sweat pours down my face as he thrusts within me, offering me the relief that I crave. I’ve never had a guy who could reach back into me like he can.

  Pre-come drips from the head of my dick onto my abdomen. Reese leans back, leaving me desperately craving more of his kisses. He wraps one arm around my left leg and rubs the other down my body, feeling his way across my muscles, appreciating the work I put into it at the gym.

  It’s all his right now.

  He speeds up his rhythm, and each movement hits that tender spot within me, leaving me wanting more and more. An ache that I need him to soothe. He experiments with lifting each of my legs up before he finds the position that makes me pre-come. My body’s twisted slightly to the side as he fucks me with my right leg lying vertically across his body as he does his work.

  His injury obviously doesn’t hinder his ability to satisfy a man. “Fuck, Reese. God, that feels fucking incredible!”

  He stops for a moment, breathing heavily, sweat rushing down his forehead. He pulls out. “On your knees,” he orders.

  I can hear the military training in his tone. I do as I’m told, and soon, he’s ramming into me from behind. One hand on the headboard, I grip tight and release a guttural cry. I jerk off with my other hand as he weaves his fingers into my hair and tugs back. When he pulls a little more, I release the headboard and arch my body until my back is flush with his chest. This position feels even better than when he had me on my back with my leg in the air. The pleasure he activates soars through me, and I call out, moaning with delight until I feel his body jerk about in a frenzy…in a way that lets me know he’s filling up the condom within me. His own cry hits the side of my face as he moves close for a few sloppy kisses.

  I spray my load across his pillows…and it keeps shooting out, spilling across the bed. I always come a lot, but now I feel bad because I’m hosing down his sheets.