Pounding Skin

by L. A. Witt

  Matt’s head lolled back as he came down on Jon’s dick again. “Feels so good.”

  “You feel amazing.” Jon ran his hands up Matt’s powerful, inked torso.

  Matt met his gaze, then shifted onto his arms and kissed Jon’s mouth. This was a new position for him, and the motions of his hips were a little . . . not clumsy, but imprecise. Like he wasn’t entirely sure what the best angle was, or the best speed.

  Jon wrapped his arms around him. Using his own hips, he guided Matt into a steady rhythm, pushing his cock up inside him and encouraging Matt to rise and fall at just the right moment. No surprise—Matt caught on quick. He didn’t quite take over, but he was definitely holding his own, and Jon’s head spun with delirious pleasure as they fucked and made out and made love, because that was exactly what they were doing—making love. Just like they had been since who knew when, and only an idiot couldn’t have seen that.

  “God, I love you,” he moaned, and kissed Matt even harder.

  “Love . . . love you too.” Matt kissed him, and he rocked his hips a little faster. He was taking over now, and Jon gladly let him.

  Panting hard, Matt sat up again. He rode Jon’s cock furiously, taking him all the way with every stroke. Jon couldn’t get enough—he grabbed onto Matt’s hips and thrust up, driving himself as deep as he could, as deep as Matt could take him.

  “Oh fuck!” Matt threw his head back, moaning helplessly and pumping himself as Jon fucked him from below.

  Jon’s back arched. His fingers tightened involuntarily on Matt’s hips, and he gritted his teeth as some primal need drove him to thrust harder and faster—harder and faster—until his head was spinning and his heart was pounding and—

  “Oh God,” he breathed, and pulled Matt’s hips down, burying himself all the way to the hilt as he unloaded inside him. Matt tried to keep moving, but Jon held him still. Matt did manage to clench around him though, tightening rhythmically as Jon’s orgasm went on and on.

  With a sigh, Jon relaxed. Matt sat up over him, looked right in Jon’s eyes, and stroked himself as he purred, “Think you better do something about this.”

  Jon nodded, licking his lips. “My favorite part about fucking you—coming, and then getting you off.”

  “You won’t hear me complaining.” Matt rose up off Jon’s dick and leaned forward, and Jon lifted his head. Carefully, Matt pushed his cock between Jon’s lips. He slid back and forth, fucking Jon’s mouth, but not enough to choke him.

  “Oh yeah,” Matt groaned. “Yeah, that’s good.”

  Good, but I want it to be even better than that.

  Steadying Matt’s hips with one hand, Jon slid two fingers inside him, and curled them just right to tease Matt’s prostate. Matt moaned softly, rocking his hips, probably as much to fuck Jon’s mouth as to ride his fingers.

  “Love it when . . .” Matt huffed out a breath, fingers combing shakily through Jon’s hair. “When you blow me right after you fuck me.”

  It was Jon’s turn to moan, and he glanced up to see Matt biting his lip and squirming. He grabbed the headboard for balance, keeping his other hand on the back of Jon’s head, and rocked his hips a little harder. Jon loved it. He encouraged him with a hand on Matt’s ass cheek, and slid his fingers in and out faster.

  “Oh yeah,” Matt groaned. The headboard creaked in time with his movements. “Oh yeah, you’re gonna make me come hard if you keep—oh fuck!”

  Jon curled his fingers inside, and in an instant, Matt threw his head back and moaned, and semen flooded Jon’s tongue. He swallowed eagerly, squeezing with his lips and teasing with his tongue and fucking with his fingers to keep Matt coming as long as possible.

  Finally, though, Matt gave a shuddering sigh that told Jon he’d had enough. Jon slowed, then withdrew his fingers, and let Matt pull his cock free.

  Matt dropped onto the bed beside him, panting and shaking. “I . . . needed that.”

  “Yeah.” Jon wrapped his arms around him. “Me too.”

  I needed you.

  And now I have you.

  He pressed a kiss to Matt’s feverish temple, and held on tight.

  God, I love you.

  Chapter 34

  They didn’t speak for a while. A couple of times, Matt thought Jon had drifted off, but his breathing was still just fast enough that he must’ve been awake.

  Matt didn’t break the silence quite yet. For now, he was content to soak up Jon’s body heat and enjoy being this close to him again. He’d missed him, but it wasn’t until now that he realized just how much.

  And if he was honest with himself, he could have easily been the reason they’d gone their separate ways and stayed apart. Hell, he had been in the beginning. It wasn’t all that long ago that he’d been repeating that tired old mantra about not being gay and pushing Jon away. But he’d pulled himself together, and now he was in bed with the most incredible man he’d ever met, and couldn’t imagine there’d ever been a time when he would’ve rejected this.

  After a little while, Jon turned onto his side. Matt mirrored him.

  “I’m sorry I was so stupid,” Jon whispered, caressing Matt’s cheek.

  “It’s okay.” Matt kissed Jon’s palm. “I’m sorry too. For dumping you like that.”

  Jon shook his head, his five o’clock shadow hissing on the pillow case. “No, like I said, I think I really did need the wakeup call. They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, and . . .” He stroked Matt’s cheek again. “Now I definitely understand what that means.”

  “Me too.” Matt laughed softly. “And hey, this relationship must have some serious potential if it’s idiotproof enough to recover from both of us getting spooked and taking off.”

  Jon laughed. “I hadn’t thought about it like that, but . . . you’re right.” His humor faded as he met Matt’s eyes again. “Good thing we both came to our senses.”

  “Definitely.” Matt paused. “Out of curiosity, what changed your mind?”

  “Well, it probably didn’t hurt that Nate whacked me upside the head with a proverbial two-by-four.”

  Matt lifted his eyebrows. “I’m surprised he’s not even more cynical about relationships than you are right now.”

  “Tell me about it. But even he could see that I’ve got a good thing with you.” He smoothed Matt’s hair. “And he pointed out to me that I was being a colossal idiot by letting you go.”

  “I’ll have to thank him next time I see him.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” Jon pressed a kiss to Matt’s forehead. “God, I missed you.”

  “I missed you too. And for the record, I’ve never wanted to tie you down. All I—”

  “You’re not.” Jon touched Matt’s cheek. “I want to be with you. Nobody else.”

  “But you don’t like relationships.”

  Jon pursed his lips.

  Matt touched his face. “Listen, I mean, I’ve got a lot of gay friends who are in open relationships, and it works fine for them. If that’s what you want, then . . .” He shrugged. “I can handle that.”

  “No.” Jon shook his head. “Honestly, I think what freaked me out was realizing that I want you and only you. I always figured if I settled down with someone, it would be an open relationship. Or something.” He trailed the backs of his fingers along Matt’s neck. “But then you came along. And you’re all I want.”

  “Me too,” Matt whispered.

  They held each other’s gaze. Jon smiled, but it faltered slightly. “I won’t lie—I don’t know where we go from here. This is . . . it’s completely new territory for me.”

  “Me too.”

  “But you’ve had relationships before.”

  “I have, but not with you.”

  “I guess that’s a good point.” Jon caressed Matt’s cheek. “So, we’ll figure it out as we go.”

  Matt nodded. “Exactly. For what it’s worth, I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes.”

  Jon’s smile came back to life. “Yeah. Me too.” He pressed a so
ft kiss to Matt’s lips. “I love you.”

  Matt combed his fingers through Jon’s hair. “I love you too.” He pulled Jon into a longer kiss. How the hell had he not gone insane while they were apart?

  After a moment, Jon drew back, propping himself up on his elbow. “You know if we stay like this, we’ll end up falling asleep.”

  “I could think of worse things.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He glanced at the clock beside the bed. “It’s late. You want to go grab something to eat?”

  “Eh.” Matt shrugged. “Maybe in a little while. I kind of like this right now.”

  “Same here.” Jon rested his head on Matt’s chest. Matt wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

  Truth was, he was pretty hungry, but he wasn’t ready to move yet. He was still too blown away that they’d even made it here, and he didn’t want the moment to be over. Not for a little while.

  A few months ago, Matt had been convinced he was straight. A few days ago, Jon had been convinced a relationship was the worst thing ever.

  But things had changed. Just like in the beginning, after they’d each pretty much torpedoed their chances with the other, they’d found their way back. Somehow, despite their best efforts, they’d landed together, exactly where they needed to be.

  Matt sighed, smiling to himself as he stroked Jon’s hair. He was at peace with who he was now, and he was happily in love with the most amazing man he’d ever met.

  Life didn’t get much better than this.

  Read on for an excerpt from the next Skin Deep, Inc. novel

  * * *

  COVER UP

  * * *

  Coming Fall 2017 from SMP Swerve!

  Lucas was right—it felt really weird.

  The tip of the pen slowly followed the lines of the tiger tattoo, which meant a roving point of dull, muted pressure. And where Lucas’s hand rested—half on the plastic, half on bare skin—was a strange combination of almost nothing and way too much.

  Nate closed his eyes and exhaled. It should not have fucked with his senses like this, having a man’s hand on him. Didn’t matter how attractive the guy was. Nate wasn’t someone who was led around by his libido.

  Except his libido had been MIA, and now it was back with a vengeance, and having Lucas’s warm fingers on his skin was enough to put him at the mercy of his own baser needs. On the bright side, he didn’t feel quite so dead anymore, but maybe his body could’ve waited until he was alone to wake up like this. At least then he’d avoid the possibility of a badly-timed hard-on.

  He looked at the designs on the wall. Focused on them. Concentrated on them.

  For about three seconds.

  Then Lucas adjusted his hand on Nate’s arm, pulling Nate’s focus right back to that half-contact. And all the other places he’d like to have Lucas’s—

  Come on. Stop thinking like a teenager.

  He swallowed. “So, uh, how long does this step take?”

  “Not too long. The tiger’s got a lot of really intricate details, though. Plus the stripes. So . . .” Lucas looked up at him. “Maybe twenty minutes? Half an hour?”

  Okay. Half an hour. He could keep his shit together for that long. Hopefully.

  “And you really think you can cover it?”

  “It’s going to be tricky, but I think, depending on what you want for the cover-up, this is doable.”

  “Yeah?”

  The artist nodded. “There’s a lot of black, which will make it harder, but I think I can work with it. It’ll have to be something pretty detailed and intricate so I can incorporate all these lines, but . . .” He furrowed his brow as he traced the tiger’s claws. “At least the ink is really smooth. Sometimes it sticks up enough that there’s no way I can cover it without a three-dimensional shadow of the original design showing through. But this one lies pretty flat. So that’s good.”

  “I hadn’t even thought of that,” Nate said. “I really don’t want this fucker to be visible. At all.”

  Lucas’s eyes flicked up, the unspoken question etched all over his expression, before he continued tracing.

  Nate pulled in a breath. “My ex-husband and I were idiots and got matching tattoos. Now that he’s gone, I want this gone too. Especially since . . .” He shifted his gaze to the designs plastered on the wall from floor to ceiling. “The thing is, the tiger was kind of an inside joke. My ex and I met at a karaoke bar after Jon and I finished singing the worst rendition of “Eye of the Tiger” ever. I mean, we were terrible. Hilariously terrible, but still.” Funny how that memory used to make him laugh. Now it just hurt. “And this guy came up to me afterward and said he’d buy me a drink if I promised to never butcher that song again. Next thing I knew, we were dating.”

  “Wow.” Lucas laughed softly. “That’s . . . a hell of a way to meet someone.”

  “Yeah. So we decided if we were going to get tattoos together, it had to be a tiger.” Nate sighed. “God, it just sounds so sentimental and stupid now.”

  “Not really. A lot of people get tattoos that mean something to them and only them.”

  “Maybe. But now I just want it covered.”

  “Fair enough.” Lucas furrowed his brow and tilted his head as he traced a line along the front of Nate’s bicep. “I guess it would help if I knew what I was putting over the top of it.”

  Wouldn’t mind you over the top of me.

  Nate almost choked on his own breath. What the fuck? No sex drive whatsoever for weeks, and now this?

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t even know.” If he’d been drawing a blank on a replacement tattoo before he’d come in here, he was completely at a loss now. He was too busy being taken aback by the way his body responded to Lucas at every turn. By how much he wanted to tell him to put the tattoo on hold, go someplace private with him, and help him cash in a whole lot of sexual frustration in a single night.

  Except he hadn’t been sexually frustrated. He’d just been . . . numb. There’d been a void where his sex drive had once lived, and he hadn’t wanted it. Hadn’t missed it. Had been downright repulsed by the idea.

  But sitting here now with Lucas’s hands on him, he was as wound up as if he’d been dying to get laid for a year. He was tense all over, nearly vibrating with pent-up sexual energy that was suddenly desperate for an outlet.

  For one outlet in particular.

  He glanced at Lucas. That boyish face was so earnest, features taut with concentration. Did he know he chewed his lip while he was working? Or was that an unconscious thing? Either way, did he have a clue how stupidly sexy it was?

  Lucas’s blue eyes flicked up and met Nate’s through long lashes, and he stopped chewing his lip long enough to flash a smile that made Nate’s pulse race.

  A second later, Lucas was again focused on the tattoo. Nate looked at the wall so he wouldn’t get caught staring like a creeper, but then he noticed the full-length mirror. As it happened, the mirror was at a perfect angle to give him a nice view of Lucas’s profile. One he could ogle without making the kid self-conscious or weirding him out.

  Nate took full advantage of the new discreet means of checking Lucas out. Drinking in the way his T-shirt hugged his arm and shoulder. Speculating about the narrow hips and smooth abs hidden beneath the lower half of the shirt and the relaxed fit jeans. The way his head was tilted made Nate want to run his fingers or his lips—or both—along the exposed skin of his neck.

  Lucas’s left heel was tapping in time with music only he could hear, and that subtle motion drew Nate’s attention to the way his pant leg had ridden up slightly on his battered black combat-style boots. All these years in the military should’ve dulled his attraction to things like that, but . . . no. A weathered black boot under jeans? Hot. They’d probably never even been in the same room as a tin of Kiwi, but that was quite all right with Nate. It wasn’t like Lucas would be standing for a uniform inspection any time soon. Those boots didn’t need to be spit-shined.

  No, they just needed to be on Nate’s bed
room floor.

  The thought jarred him, though he kept his response to himself.

  What . . . the . . . fuck?

  Before Caleb, Nate had been a serial monogamist. He’d just never gotten into casual sex or promiscuity, while Jon had slept around enough for both of them. Neither judged the other (though there was plenty of shit-talking). It was just how they were each wired.

  And now . . . seriously, what the fuck? Jon had pretty much forgotten that men besides Matt even existed, and Nate was thinking with his dick.

  It was like someone had come along and swapped his and Jon’s brains. Or like they’d spent so much time careening around the skies together, their personalities had collided and then switched bodies. Much more of this, and Nate was going to be cheering for the goddamned Falcons.

  He shuddered.

  “You okay?” Lucas looked up from tracing the tiger’s paw just above Nate’s elbow. “Cold?”

  Oh, no. Cold is not the problem right now.

  “I’m good.” Nate smiled and tried not to draw attention while he fidgeted to accommodate the rising bulge that he also didn’t want to draw attention to. “Just, uh . . .” He tried to think of something, but really, there was nothing he could say to save face that wouldn’t just make it worse. So, he cleared his throat again and muttered, “Nothing. I’m good.”

  “Okay.” Lucas started to work again, but then paused. “Maybe we should think about some ideas for the cover-up.”

  “Oh. Yeah. We should.” Especially since it’ll take my mind off you. He glanced at the mirror again. Of course that meant he happened to catch Lucas’s reflection right as the kid leaned down to scratch his leg, which pulled his pant leg up a little more and revealed more of the boot. Why was that so hot? Why was everything Lucas did so . . . fucking . . . hot?

  Nate rubbed a hand over his face. Get a grip, idiot. “So . . . designs. I’m not even sure where to start.”

  “Well.” Lucas sat back and capped his pen as he looked at the designs on the wall. He absently rubbed his right hand, probably working out a little writer’s cramp or something, and quirked his lips. “We do Navy designs here all the time. Matt’s probably your best bet if you want a plane. Him or Colin, really.”