Pounding Skin

by L. A. Witt

  Jon couldn’t help staring. Not just because Matt still looked hot as fuck in his priest costume, but because he was so good with the kids. He came down to their level. He answered their questions and appeared to be telling them stories about this or that tattoo, and he had them alternately intrigued and in stitches.

  Matt’s eyes flicked up, and he did a double take, as if he hadn’t expected Jon to be standing there. He smiled, sending a rush of warmth through Jon, and then shifted his attention back to the kids.

  “I really don’t think that’s an appropriate costume,” a woman muttered beside him.

  Jon schooled his expression before he turned to her. Ah, Recon’s wife. She wouldn’t approve of Nate’s sexy-whatever costume either. Never did. Keeping a straight face, Jon innocently asked, “Not appropriate? Why not?”

  “A priest with tattoos?” She wrinkled her nose.

  Jon had to literally bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud. If Matt’s tattoos were an inappropriate accessory for that costume, she’d be horrified to know that the black shirt was hiding a bite mark on his left collarbone. “Looks fine to me.”

  She shot him a glare, then stalked off, and Jon was left to his amusement. About that time, Caleb was calling all the kids over to get their candy-stuffed pumpkins, and Matt was free from entertaining them.

  Jon wrapped his arm around Matt’s waist and kissed his cheek. “Never realized you were that good with kids.”

  Matt shrugged, leaning into him slightly. “That’s because you usually only see me in places where kids aren’t allowed.”

  “Huh. Hadn’t thought of it that way.” Their eyes met, and Jon couldn’t look away. He’d had something snarky on the tip of his tongue, but it was just . . . gone. Instead, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Matt’s lips. “The adults-only party hasn’t even started yet, but any time you want to take off, just say so.”

  Matt smiled. “Eager to start on your penance?”

  Jon shivered. “That, or I want to get a head start on sinning some more.”

  It was Matt’s turn to shiver, and he slid his hand over Jon’s hip. “I’m having a good time, so I’m no rush to leave.” He winked. “But when we do? It’ll be worth the wait.”

  Oh, I believe you . . .

  Chapter 18

  Matt dropped onto the pillows and closed his eyes. His body ached and tingled all over, and even though he was exhausted, he wanted more. As long as they could still move, he wanted to fuck.

  Doubtful either of them had anything left, though. Not after two rounds before the party, a few drinks during, and a long, sweaty fuck just now. Oh, when he recovered, though . . .

  He grinned to himself as he trailed his fingers up Jon’s arm. God, he was straight-up addicted to this guy. He loved how rough Jon was. He could be gentle, almost tender, when he wanted to be, but most of the time, it was tight grasps and bruising kisses and violent thrusts. Matt had always been mindful not to hurt the women he fooled around with. Something told him that if he used more force with Jon, the guy wouldn’t break. In fact, he’d probably goad Matt into using even more.

  Matt shivered.

  “Cold?” Jon asked.

  “No.” Matt opened his eyes and turned onto his side. Jon was lying next to him, skin still gleaming with sweat. Matt trailed a hand up Jon’s arm. “I feel fucking fantastic.”

  Jon grinned. “Mission accomplished.”

  Matt laughed, and he thought he sounded kind of drunk. Hell, maybe he was. Except he’d only had a couple of drinks, so this was clearly just some post-coital delirium. Fine by him. Bonus—no hangover. A sore body and a mildly achy ass, maybe, but no hangover. Sweet.

  He watched his own hand wander over Jon’s powerful torso. One look at this man instantly revved him up and made him want to come unglued, but at the same time, it settled something in him.

  You’re here. Everything is as it should be.

  Of course that was ridiculous. They were booty calls. Jon was scratching an itch and Matt was finding his footing in bed with a man. The relief at being in the same room as Jon was just because after spending all day being distracted by him, Matt could do what he’d been needing to do for hours—focus on him.

  And apparently he could turn the man inside out with a Halloween costume that was in borderline bad taste. Duly noted.

  Beside him, Jon shifted a bit, and winced. He rubbed his neck gingerly.

  Matt stiffened. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just . . .” Jon jerked his head to the left, then right, making something pop audibly “My neck is a little sore tonight.”

  “I didn’t think I roughed you up that much.”

  Jon laughed. “Nah. It’s just part of being a pilot.”

  “I think it’s an occupational hazard for a lot of us. I get it from hunching over people for too long.” Matt grimaced. “Pretty sure you’ve got it worse than me, though.”

  “It’s not a competition.” Jon slid a hand over Matt’s thigh. “And I’m usually not too bad, but we’ve been putting in a lot of flight hours the last couple of weeks. Wears you down after a while.”

  “I can imagine.” Matt propped himself on his elbow and used a fingertip to draw imaginary tattoos on Jon’s chest. “So what made you become a pilot, anyway?”

  Jon smiled. “My dad took me to the Air and Space Museum at the Smithsonian when I was . . . I think I was in kindergarten, so maybe five? Six? Anyway, I was hooked. After that, I was bound and determined to be a pilot. And once I discovered fighter jets, it was all over.”

  Matt laughed. “Those planes are pretty sexy.”

  “No shit.”

  “Why the Navy and not the Air Force, though?”

  Jon chuckled. “My cousin was in the Air Force, and he warned me against it. Said it was more like a corporation than a military organization.”

  “Is it?”

  “I don’t know. The Navy’s got its bureaucratic bullshit and the same political games you’ll find in the private sector, so I can’t imagine the Air Force is much worse. But his comments stuck in my head when it came time to make a decision, and I decided the Navy had cooler birds.” He paused. “I also thought it would be cool to fly off an aircraft carrier, which is proof that a seventeen-year-old does not have the capacity to make a wise career decision.”

  “Oh yeah?” Matt laughed. “Why’s that?”

  “Because landing on an aircraft carrier sucks. And the takeoffs aren’t so great either.”

  Matt grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve seen them on TV. With the catapults? That doesn’t look fun.”

  “Not at all. In fact, they’re part of the reason my neck is all jacked up. I mean, the G-forces in a fighter jet are going to fuck you up no matter what. But add in a few cat shots and carrier landings, and you can forget about having a healthy spine.”

  Matt shuddered. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Eh, it could be worse. I’ve got some friends who’ve ejected. They say you come out an inch shorter when that happens, and they’re not bullshitting.” He whistled, shaking his head. “Buddy of mine’s glad he survived, but he had so many compression fractures in his spine, we were all surprised as hell that he walked again.”

  “He’s not still flying, is he?”

  “Oh God, no,” Jon said. “He was grounded right away, and medically retired shortly after that.”

  “That’s good. I mean, I can’t imagine he was thrilled about it, but still.”

  “No, he took it pretty hard. He always wanted to fly, and losing his wings was a tough blow. He’s doing better now, though.”

  “I believe it. Not being able to do what you love . . . no thanks. I know a few tattooists who’ve had to quit because of their hands or back problems.” He shuddered again. “So how many more years are you going to do this?”

  “At least another eight so I can retire.”

  “Retire?” Matt snorted dramatically. “I didn’t realize I was sleeping with an old man.”

  Jon laughed, wrapp
ing his arms around him and pulling him in for a kiss. “If you haven’t figured out I’m old man by now, then I’d say my secret is safe.”

  “Fair point.” Matt let himself be drawn into a kiss. It wasn’t one of those crazy hungry kisses that meant they’d be reaching for more condoms and lube soon. Just gentle, even a bit playful—kissing for its own sake.

  He and Jon were weirdly affectionate for fuck buddies. Or maybe Matt just didn’t understand how this kind of thing worked between two men. And it wasn’t as if he’d never cuddled with his female booty calls. It just felt different with Jon. Everything did.

  One of the things he’d always loved about a relationship was that feeling of “ah, there you are” he’d get when he’d meet up with his girlfriend. Not that he’d been flailing without her, or that he’d depended on her to relax, but as soon as she’d walk into the room, a bunch of tension would just evaporate. Usually tension he hadn’t even noticed until it was gone. He could breathe without her. He could function without her. But damn if he wasn’t more content when he was with her.

  Fuck buddies and booty calls didn’t have that effect. There was a sense of relief and excitement, of course—hello, getting laid—but it wasn’t the same. And it seemed like that should be against the rules. They were strictly fuck buddies.

  On the surface, Jon approached this the way Matt and his previous sexual partners had approached birth control—taking no risks whatsoever. He might as well have been wearing an emotional condom, making absolutely sure nothing slipped past.

  But then there were moments like this, which made Matt wonder if the rules really were different between two guys. Not because he and Jon were cuddly and affectionate, but just the way Jon looked at him sometimes. The way Matt felt when he was with him.

  Obviously he was reading too much into it. Jon wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t the kind of guy who’d throw someone out of bed after the orgasms had happened and he no longer had any use for him.

  Maybe the whole “sex only—no relationship” thing wasn’t as carved in stone as he’d made it sound. Maybe he just preferred to keep things simple until he’d gotten to know someone enough to let things progress. Because it sure as hell felt like things were progressing. This didn’t feel like “sex only—no relationship” to Matt. It hadn’t for a while now.

  But maybe he was reading too much into things. It was entirely possible that this really was all Jon wanted and all he’d give.

  At least for now, Matt had no complaints.

  He had Jon. He had amazing sex.

  And he wasn’t about to demand anything more.

  * * *

  At some point during the other night’s Halloween party, the brilliant idea of a double date had come up. Matt wasn’t so sure how that fit into his and Jon’s agreement to keep this as casual as possible, but on the other hand, he could understand why Jon and Nate both liked the idea. After all, with one of them being single and the other being married, hanging out after work must’ve been complicated. Either Caleb didn’t come along, or Jon was the third wheel. With Matt along, they had a nice even number. God knew he’d had the same problem with Lisa whenever they weren’t both in relationships.

  So, on Wednesday night, he and Jon joined Nate and Caleb at the same bar and grill where they’d met for drinks after Matt had come to his senses. There was a comedy club across the street, and Caleb had apparently gotten tickets. It had been a while since Matt had been to a comedy show, so he was looking forward to the evening.

  When he and Jon arrived at the restaurant, Nate and Caleb were already there, seated at a booth, and they looked a hell of a lot different out of their costumes. Of course Matt had met Nate before, but he’d only seen Caleb as a vampire-slash-lawyer. Without the stark white makeup, slicked back hair, fake blood, and the suit, he just looked like a regular guy. A very attractive regular guy, of course—he really was a lawyer, apparently, and he looked like he’d be cast as the dark-haired, dark-eyed prosecutor who charms the defense attorney into bed.

  They were both dressed down. Nate had on a Packers jersey—probably to fuck with Jon, since both their teams were playing this weekend—and Caleb wore a plain black T-shirt. Their short sleeves covered the top halves of their tattoos, but the lower parts stuck out, and they were identical. Matching tattoos. Matt cringed inwardly. He’d done a lot of couples’ tattoos over the years, and he always worried the client was making a huge mistake. Maybe because he’d done so many cover-ups on those. Just last month he’d blended a woman’s name into a larger spider web. He was rather proud of that one—even Lucas the cover-up magician had been impressed—but he felt bad for the guy. How much did it hurt to be so into someone that you permanently etched their name in your skin, and then lose them?

  He tamped that thought down and focused on the menu. While skimming it over, he couldn’t help stealing a few more looks at the couple sitting across from him and Jon. More than once, they’d pause to share a glance and a smile. Matt suspected it took a lot of restraint not to touch. If they’d been somewhere more progressive like San Francisco or Seattle, they probably would’ve shared the same easy affection as the straight couples at other tables. An arm around shoulders. A hand resting gently on top of a knee. Sitting just a little closer than two friends.

  It would’ve been impossible to mistake them for a pair of friends, though. The matching wedding bands and tattoos were a dead giveaway, and so were the long looks and adorable smiles. They’d apparently been together for ten years, but still acted like newlyweds. Kind of like Pete and Sarah.

  Matt envied them. Someday, he’d have that too. It was off the table with Jon, and he was okay with that, but . . . someday. He’d had a few relationships, but nothing that ever seemed like it was going to stick. He and one girlfriend had made some noise about moving in together, but about the time they’d started scouring apartment ads, they’d broken up. He and Lisa might’ve made it work if they’d been a few years more mature.

  Sitting here now with Jon, Nate, and Caleb, Matt couldn’t help wondering if he’d eventually settle down—with a man or a woman. He’d long since gotten his head around being bisexual. Kind of hard not to when he spent as many nights as possible having the most amazing sex of his life with a man.

  But what about relationships? Like, long-term relationships? Now that he’d figured out he was into sex with both men and women, he couldn’t help wondering if and how really dating a man would be different from dating a woman.

  He supposed they’d have to be somewhat discreet. Southeast Virginia wasn’t exactly the most progressive place on the planet, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about walking down the street holding hands with a man, even though it was perfectly normal with a woman. In fact, he’d always been pretty affectionate with girlfriends. Not enough to make people scream “get a room!” or anything like that, but an arm around the shoulders or a hand on the small of her back. He wasn’t sure how that would go over if he was with a man.

  Maybe it was just as well things with Jon were casual. At least that gave him a chance to figure out the sexual side of it all without trying to navigate an actual relationship and all its protocols.

  He did envy Nate and Caleb, though. They seemed so happy and just . . . comfortable together. They wore wedding bands and consulted with each other over the menu like every married couple Matt had ever known. He had a suspicion this would be Colin and Daniel in a few years—deliriously happy together, still ridiculously in love, and joined at the hip in the most adorable way. Glued to each other without being clingy. Lucky bastards.

  “Matt?” Jon’s voice jarred him out of his thoughts.

  “Hmm?” Matt cleared his throat. “Sorry, what?”

  “Caleb was asking if you’d been to the comedy club.”

  Oh. Right. They had tickets to the comedy show tonight, didn’t they?

  Matt reached for his drink just to occupy his hands. “No, I’ve never been. Buddy of mine has, though. Said his wife almost pissed herself.”<
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  Caleb laughed. “That’s an endorsement if I ever heard it.” He paused. “So how long have you lived here, Matt?”

  “Born and raised.”

  “So you must like it here.”

  Matt shrugged. “Just never had any other place call to me enough to make me want to leave. And I’m establishing my clientele here, so no point in starting over in another city.”

  “I know the feeling.” Caleb gave Nate’s arm a gentle nudge. “I had to start over after he transferred to Oceana.”

  “You’re a military wife,” Nate said. “You knew what this was.”

  “Shut up.” Caleb chuckled and elbowed him again. Their eyes met, and when they both laughed . . . God, they were as gross as Daniel and Colin. Matt suspected they sometimes picked fights over nothing just so they had an excuse for makeup sex.

  Where the hell do I find a relationship like that?

  He felt guilty for his own thought. He wasn’t unsatisfied with Jon by any means, but as Nate had said to Caleb, he knew what this was. And what it wasn’t.

  The four of them continued talking while checking out the menu and eventually ordering. Every once in a while, Caleb’s phone buzzed, and he’d grumble about work never staying at work. Nate rolled his eyes over it, and he didn’t seem thrilled about Caleb returning texts at the table, but he didn’t say anything. He probably understood it was the nature of Caleb’s job, irritating or otherwise. That or it might’ve been one of those things they sniped about in private. An annoying spousal habit. Every couple had them, after all.

  The meals arrived, and conversation continued easily despite Caleb’s constant glances at his phone and Matt being kind of the new guy. Jon and Nate touched on work from time to time, but they were pretty good about not drowning dinner in shop talk. They asked about Matt’s work, and Caleb made some more noise about getting some work done on the tattoo on his calf.

  At one point, Nate was telling a story about an exchange with some other pilots this afternoon, when Caleb subtly reached for his vibrating phone. It was hardly the first time he’d done it tonight, but this time he tilted the screen just slightly. It was almost like he was twisting it avoid the glare from the overhead lamp.