by Elouise East
They stood, and he followed her into the lounge where the others were watching a football game. When they entered, Grant’s gaze found his, and Emerson saw concern in his eyes. Emerson smiled at him, and the concern receded a little as Grant stood.
“Would you like help cleaning up?” Emerson asked Emmaline.
“No, no. You both go and relax. Enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiving.” She pulled Grant in for a hug.
“If you’re sure…”
“Yes, go!” She waved her hand after giving Emerson a hug as well. “Maybe we’ll see you for Christmas?” She tilted her head in question.
“Emmaline! Leave the poor boys alone,” Theo’s voice called back to them.
She giggled, putting her hands in the air. “Alright!” She lowered her voice. “But think about it.” She nodded her head and joined Theo and Adam.
“Night, everyone,” Grant called.
“Night, boys!” Theo replied.
“Happy Thanksgiving, guys,” Adam said with a wave.
Emerson followed Grant to the kitchen and out the back door, walking around the moonlit pool to the guest house. The moon was bright enough that they would’ve been able to see well enough without the lamps around the perimeter.
They entered Grant’s house, and Grant flicked on the lights, illuminating the lounge in a soft glow. He shifted towards Emerson.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Emerson nodded. “Yes. Sorry I was distracted during dinner. I’d been thinking about the shelter and how I could help. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good guest.”
“No! You were great. I was worried something had happened, and you wanted to leave.” Grant let out a small laugh. “I’m relieved it was just that.”
Emerson chuckled. “I definitely didn’t want to leave.”
“I didn’t want you to leave either.” Grant studied the floor then up at him from under his eyelashes. “I don’t want you to leave.”
Emerson stared at Grant, reading between the lines. He answered quietly, “I’m happy to stay if you’re sure. I don’t have a change of clothes with me. I’ll have to do the walk of shame tomorrow.” He chuckled.
Grant bit his lip, cheeks darkening. “Fine by me.”
Examining Grant’s face, Emerson deduced Grant was a little unsure, so Emerson decided to take point for now. He moved forward into Grant’s space until they were touching chest to foot. Lifting his hand, he used his thumb and index finger to grip Grant’s chin gently. “Open for me.”
Chapter 9
Grant
Emerson pressed their lips together, and Grant gasped, opening his mouth to Emerson’s tongue. He wrapped his hands around the back of Emerson’s neck, holding them together and lifted onto his toes to reach better. He could feel Emerson’s hands on his back, roaming up and down, pressing one against his ass and pulling him closer. There was no denying how aroused Emerson was. Their shafts rubbed together, the pressure making Grant pull his mouth away and gasp for breath as his head dropped back.
Feeling a tugging on his shirt brought Grant’s head back up to see Emerson undoing the buttons. Grant watched his able fingers, moving further and further until they were all undone. Emerson’s hands slid against the bare skin of Grant’s stomach, and Grant sucked in a breath and moaned. Emerson’s touch slowly rose to Grant’s chest, pinching his nipples gently before moving higher until Emerson reached Grant's shoulders and pushed off his clothes. When Grant dropped his hands to his sides, his shirt dropped with a gentle thump on the wooden floor.
With that noise, all bets were off, and their mouths collided with hot carnal instinct. They divested each other of their clothes with a haste born of passion, hands touching every bit of skin they could reach. Mouths lifted free, and lips replaced hands on shoulders and collarbones. Grant experienced the bites of Emerson’s kiss moving down his chest and reaching his nipples. His legs almost gave way when Emerson teased his nub to a hard point before proceeding to suck and lick it until he could feel every motion streaking to his cock. Emerson moved to his other nipple, using his palm to keep the first hard.
“Jesus, Em.” The shortened name rolled off his tongue unbidden.
After giving his other nipple the same treatment, Emerson lifted his head and kissed Grant’s mouth again as he walked them backwards. Grant felt a wall to his right and realised, distantly, they were heading along the hall to his bedroom. He fumbled his way, trying to avoid stumbling into any of the tables along the way. Bumping into one, had Grant hissing. That would be a nice bruise on his thigh tomorrow.
“Sorry,” Emerson whispered but continued to kiss him.
Grant twisted his body to the side to rest against the door of his room. His hand returned to Emerson’s hair, gripping it tightly as they kissed hard and rough. He pulled his mouth away after a few seconds, his nipples grazing Emerson’s barely-there chest hair with every hard breath.
Turning the handle, Grant opened the door and shuffled backwards into the room, Emerson following, their gazes locked. Grant’s legs bumped into his bed, and he waited for Emerson to catch up. As their bodies touched again, he sighed in contentment and slid his hands up Emerson’s arms to wrap around his neck.
“Hey,” Grant said, unaccustomed with his confidence. He was usually placid and let the other person lead, silence overriding throughout the encounter. But with Emerson, he wanted to acknowledge him and for him to understand he was here. It sounded silly thinking about his past liaisons, but he needed to be present in this rather than a bystander.
Emerson rested his hands on Grant’s hips, smiled and kissed the tip of his nose and his mouth before replying, “Hey, you.”
Grant grinned back, hearing his own usual greeting echoed back at him. He pulled Emerson’s head down for another kiss. Emerson crowded close, making Grant lose his balance and fall on the bed, pulling Emerson down too. They landed with Emerson catching himself on his hands. They laughed as they settled together, naked skin pressing everywhere, hands roaming before their mouths met in a soft kiss.
He moved his legs until Emerson was cradled between them, their cocks pressed together. Their leisurely kisses became harder, and Grant found himself grinding up against Emerson. Ripping his mouth away to breathe, Grant savoured Emerson’s kisses moving across his chest, lower and lower. He threaded his fingers through Emerson’s hair as his head descended, his breath hot against Grant’s skin, the wetness from his lips, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
When Emerson reached his groin, Grant felt him nose his wiry hair and inhale, groaning and licking at the tops of his thighs, making Grant moan in reply. Emerson wrapped a hand around Grant’s cock and squeezed gently, slowly stroking up and down a few times. Grant’s eyes crossed as he pushed his head back into the cover, bit his lip and moaned again. Moving his feet flat to the bed, Grant spread his legs wider, allowing more leverage for him to lift his hips into the waiting fist.
Grant had his eyes closed when a featherlight wet lick touched his slit repeatedly. Every time the touch went away, his hips followed until pressure was laid across them. Opening his eyes and gazing down at the man between his legs, Grant saw a picture which would stay with him forevermore. As soon as their gazes connected, Emerson engulfed the whole of Grant’s cock in his mouth.
“Holy fuck!” Grant shouted, hands grasping the sheets but unable to take his eyes off what was happening. Emerson sucked as his mouth pulled off, the sensation sending tingles through Grant’s groin and hips. Grant fought to stop the thrust of his hips—he didn’t want Emerson to choke and be uncomfortable—though he didn’t need to worry as Emerson’s arm laid across them. Whenever Emerson reached his tip, Emerson’s tongue swiped the underside, around the head and over the slit before descending all over again. Grant inhaled raggedly as Emerson’s mouth worshipped his cock. “Christ, Em! Fuck, I’m so close. So, so close.”
At those words, Emerson slowed his mouth until he pulled off completely, leaving the cool air to caress Grant’s heated flesh.
> “You’re not coming yet. You wait for when I’m inside you,” Emerson said hoarsely. He crawled up Grant’s body and kissed Grant, tongue invading, ensuring Grant would get the barest taste of himself. “Where’s your supplies?”
Grant blinked a few times before the question became coherent in his mind. “Um,” he cleared his throat, “in the bathroom drawer.” He hadn’t needed them for ages; therefore, he didn’t keep them in his bedside table.
He watched as Emerson stalked to the bathroom, returning a few seconds later with a tube and several condom packets. Grant pushed himself further up the bed, so his head was on the pillow while watching as Emerson pulled one condom off with his teeth, placing the rest on the bedside table and crawled back to his previous position between Grant’s legs but on his knees.
“You okay?” Emerson asked quietly.
Grant nodded and attempted to smile. He wasn’t unsure or uncomfortable with what was happening, he was in awe and unbelieving. Never in a million years would he have expected to be in this place in his life. He’d always wanted to have a boyfriend to talk to, to come home to eventually, and to love. But he never expected it to happen right now. He glanced at Emerson, who waited for an answer.
“Yes, I’m good.” His erection was still as hard as it had been when Emerson’s mouth had been on him. Grant bit his lip. “Hurry,” he whined at Emerson.
Emerson smirked and chuffed a laugh, opening the lid to the tube and squirting some onto his fingers. He recapped the lube and dropped it on the bed, using his now free hand to push Grant’s legs wider and higher. Emerson leered at Grant and quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes. Please,” Grant answered the unspoken question. He watched as Emerson’s hand wrapped around his cock again, and the other hand touched the cold gel to his hole. Emerson rubbed against his entrance several times before pressing harder. Grant bore down at the pressure, the feeling of being full increasing when the finger passed through the ring of muscle. Grant rested his head back against the pillow, eyes closed as he relaxed into the feeling of Emerson’s finger pumping in and out of his ass, all the while stroking his erection in slow, easy motions.
A slight pause before a second finger joined the first, the stretch and burn making Grant gasp and arch his back until the pleasure overtook the sting. He curled his toes in the soft sheets below him, and he writhed on Emerson’s fingers as they slid in and out. His hips rolled in time with the movements, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Emerson stopped again, and Grant braced himself for another finger, but the heat of Emerson’s mouth on his cock had Grant gasping for breath.
“Holy shit!”
The pleasure streamed through him until Grant was seconds from exploding. The third finger entered Grant, bringing him back from the edge as the burn returned. He panted, hands gripping the sheets, toes curled, muscles locked. He was still hard yet not on the edge despite Emerson sucking him.
As Emerson hit Grant’s prostate and the pleasure overrode the pain again, Grant’s muscles relaxed. Emerson pulled his mouth from Grant’s cock but continued pumping his fingers in Grant’s ass.
“Jesus, Grant! Seeing you taking my fingers has me hard as a rock.” Emerson’s gaze was on his actions.
“I need you! Em! Now! Please!” The pleasure rose again, especially with Emerson concentrating his fingers on Grant’s prostate. “Fuck, Em! Please!”
Emerson pulled his fingers free, making Grant wince but watching Emerson fumble with the condom packet and rolling it on had any pain forgotten. Emerson grabbed the lube again, spreading it liberally on his covered flesh, then positioned himself closer. One hand rested by Grant’s side, the other held his cock at Grant’s opening.
They locked gazes. “You ready for me?” Emerson asked.
“Yes!” Grant grabbed hold of his braced arm as Emerson entered him. Emerson was bigger than the three fingers he just had in his ass, but the sting was minimal probably because Grant rode such a high. Emerson didn’t stop, although Grant knew Emerson would if he needed him to and continued to push through until Emerson was fully seated. Emerson leaned onto his forearms and rested his forehead against Grant’s.
“Hell, Grant,” Emerson panted, breaths mingling together. “How are you doing?”
“More than fine,” he purred. “You can move if you want.”
Emerson chuckled. “I’m trying to calm my libido a little, sweetheart. Don’t want to blow before I get a chance to experience this more.”
Grant’s smile transformed into a gasp when Emerson moved his hips back slowly, dragging his cock along Grant’s insides before thrusting back in again. Every motion was excruciatingly slow, but it allowed their lips to meet and explore and their hands to touch whatever skin they could reach. Emerson thrust his hips continually but slowly, their pleasure steadily climbing, their touches gripping rather than caressing, their tongues duelling rather than twining. Grant lifted his legs around Emerson’s waist, changing the angle a little and moved his hips in time with Emerson’s thrusts. Grant needed more.
Emerson’s hands moved down Grant’s body to cup his ass cheeks, tilting him just right for Emerson to hit his prostate.
“Right there, holy fuck! Yes!” Grant wrapped his arms around Emerson, bringing them as close as possible and tucked his face into Emerson’s neck, breathing erratically. “I’m going to come!” The friction of Grant’s erection rubbing between their bodies added to his pleasure.
“Come on, Grant. Come for me. I’m so close.” Emerson’s voice was low and gravelly. “Fuck, yes!”
Grant licked at Emerson’s sweat-soaked skin, groaning loudly into Emerson’s shoulder as his climax tore through him.
“Oh fuck, Grant! Yes!” Emerson’s hips pistoned into Grant a few more times before he held himself deep, hands gripping Grant’s ass tightly, his orgasm peaking.
They stayed in the same position for several minutes, allowing their breathing to slow and Emerson to slip free of Grant. Emerson pulled away with a gentle kiss to Grant’s lips.
“I’ll be back.” Emerson stood and headed for the bathroom.
Grant hesitated before following, knowing he needed a shower. He raced into the bathroom as Emerson washed his hands.
“Hey, I was about to come back to bed.” Emerson leaned in for a kiss.
“I know. I need a shower, though,” Grant replied, smirking. “Care to join me?” he asked as he walked past Emerson to the shower.
“You never need to ask,” Emerson told him, following him in.
They spent several long minutes running a soft sponge on each other, a soft undercurrent of arousal staying beneath the surface. Grant wouldn’t be able to take another loving that night.
“Let’s get to bed.” Grant grabbed a towel to dry himself with.
Once in bed, Emerson rolled Grant onto his side and tucked himself up behind him, arm banding around his waist.
“Get some sleep,” Emerson whispered.
Grant was exhausted but didn’t want the night to end. Unfortunately, his body had other plans.
****
Grant woke when a shaft of light shone too brightly into his eyes. He snuggled his head further into the pillow to get away from it and realised he couldn’t move far. He smiled as he remembered the previous night and the fact that Emerson seemed to have stayed wrapped around him all the time they were sleeping. He couldn’t see if Emerson was awake, but Grant noticed the steady breath, hitting the back of his neck and assumed Emerson was still asleep.
He grinned into the pillow and slowly moved his head back to his original position to allow his eyes to get used to the light. Blinking his eyes repeatedly, he saw the sunlight glinting on the dreamcatcher sequins hanging from his bedroom window. Grant welcomed the peace as he laid there like he was in his own little world away from everything around him. It was just him and Emerson.
As the sun rose more, its position stopped the glare from intruding on his sleep. He nestled back in, tightening his own grip on Emerson’s arms and dri
fted back off to sleep.
Chapter 10
Emerson
Waking up next to Grant had been surreal. Emerson had woken before Grant and had basked in the feeling of being wrapped around him—of being allowed to be wrapped around him. He must’ve laid there for an hour at least before Grant had shown signs of waking, and he wouldn’t have changed it for anything.
Once they’d dressed and sat for breakfast, they’d decided what they were going to do. Grant had suggested another stroll in Central Park, and Emerson was more than happy to oblige. They’d spent the day walking through New York and sitting on the benches watching the world go by. It was the most peaceful day Emerson had had in a long time.
Over the next few days, they either spent time together, or Emerson spent his time at the library pretending to study, though truthfully watching Grant work, or they’d be apart and studying.
Emerson spent Tuesday night restless, alternating between sleeping and awake. He’d known he would not be at the airport for the flight to England, but it didn’t stop him from feeling like he was letting his father down again. He pushed his father’s voice back in anger. He didn’t have to do as his father said anymore, but it was so ingrained it was difficult to shake.
As eleven o’clock came around, Emerson’s phone rang. Seeing it was his father, he ignored it. This repeatedly happened for the next hour, and because he didn’t want to miss any messages or calls from Grant, he wouldn’t silence the damn thing. By the time it stopped ringing, there were twenty-seven missed calls, fourteen voicemails and eleven text messages all from his father. Emerson assumed they had stopped because his father had to board the flight. But he was sure he hadn’t heard the end of it. No doubt it would start up again when his father landed in seven hours, or however long the flight was.
Emerson couldn’t concentrate on studying—typically today was the first day he would’ve been able to study at home because Jason was with his family—instead, he pointed his feet towards the library, hoping he could persuade Grant to have lunch with him.
