Some Like It Geek: A Really Big Set of Romances

by Box Set

  “She’s not stirring any time soon,” Lorne says of Mikayla, and I know in my guts that he’s right. She’s blissfully out for the count, dreaming with a smile on her face. “Now, is there a reason you followed me out here?”

  I clear the frog from my throat. “To talk.”

  “What the fuck is there to say? I said everything I needed to earlier. Do you have something different you need to say?”

  I shake my head. I’m a goddamned idiot.

  “Jasper.”

  I turn my head back around and find Lorne’s only a few inches away from me. He reaches out over my shoulder and plants his hand against the door, neatly trapping me between him and it.

  Uh-oh!

  He lowers his hand onto my shoulder, pinches at the bunched muscles there in a way that ought to make them relax, but I’m too conscious of where his touch might lead to unwind. Actually, there’s no might about it. I know what he wants, and I know he’s going to get it.

  “Is it really so difficult to say?”

  Maybe not for him, but he’s done this before. I haven’t. It’s new. I’m having to shift my whole construct of what it is to be me. I just had sex with the girl of my dreams, so I know I’m not gay, but my heart isn’t currently hammering over thoughts of her.

  “It’s okay to feel something for both of us.”

  Uh! Huh, no, not in the society I inhabit, but I’ve already established that Lorne doesn’t occupy the same reality as most mortals. He exists inside his own demi-plane or something. Someplace where there’s no backlash about loving who you want, and there’s no such thing as prejudice. I’m going to destroy friendships if I allow him to take me on this journey. I can wave bye-bye to all the people who gave me a side-eye when I told them about my new role. Sure, they slapped me on the back and offered congratulations, but I’m not deaf to the speculation that erupted behind my back.

  Should I honestly be bothered about keeping these people in my life?

  “Jasper.”

  I swallow slowly, but I still can’t form the words I know he wants to hear.

  “All right, then tell me you don’t want this.”

  His eyes glitter as he swoops in to claim my mouth.

  “Tell me.” His whisper fills my ear, and then his mouth is against the side of my throat, sucking hard, bruising me.

  And who knew, I really like it.

  “I want to hear you say that I don’t mean shit to you.”

  “I can’t.” I croak, around a moan. Christ! His teeth are sharp, but apparently both my brain and my lizard brain, or maybe that should be my head and my little head, like that fact.

  “Then I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming next.”

  What is coming next?

  More invasive, aggressive feasting on my lips, apparently. Lorne slipping me more than a little tongue and biting my lower lip in a way that short-circuits my propriety filter. It’s like a backlog of guilt just got jettisoned. Blood hurtles downstream to fill my dick. His big hands settle one…two…upon the cheeks of my arse. I mirror his hold as he drags our bodies together so that our hips collide. We’re of a similar height and build. Damn, I could get drunk on the taste of him. I have to be a little tipsy already to be doing this. There’s no hint of pretence that this is anything to do with the script. It’s just him and me engaged in something real enough to fill the empty hollow I opened inside my chest earlier.

  I shouldn’t want this, but I damned well do.

  I see those friends turning away from me one by one, and I don’t even stop to wave goodbye.

  It’s not good to surround myself with that much negativity anyway.

  I fist my hands in Lorne’s hair and hold him there with his mouth glued to mine. I refuse to let go, until the lack of oxygen starts making me woozy.

  The moment we come apart, Lorne settles a hand upon my shoulder, and pushes down. I immediately get what he’s asking.

  Am I ready for this?

  Heck, maybe not, but I’m on my knees regardless, and his hand is on the top of my head—stroking, guiding me.

  His cock juts before me, thick and veined. My nostrils fill with the scent of his musk and the fainter trace of Mikayla’s perfume. There’s a lot of him. Maybe it’s instinct kicking in that makes me back away when he angles himself towards my mouth.

  He brushes the shiny wet head of himself against my lips. “Open up now.”

  When I don’t immediately oblige, he tuts and shakes his head. “Please don’t be a whiny bitch about this. We both know it’s what you want.”

  If I was going to whine, I’d have to open my mouth, and I reckon the moment that happens, I’m going to be feasting on dong.

  “Call it practical research if you like. You’re going to end up faking more than a few, may as well get to grips with the actual mechanics.”

  That is true. At least once an episode by his last reckoning.

  “It’s okay to experiment, Jas. If you don’t like it, then at least you’ll know that for a fact.”

  Not liking it hasn’t even occurred to me as a possibility. Getting it wrong is a possibility, but how hard can it be?

  “Just keep your teeth off me, and we’ll both enjoy it.”

  “I’m aware of the etiquette, even if I haven’t performed the task before.”

  “I like plenty of tongue.”

  Okay. Oh fuck. I’m getting bored of myself for stalling.

  “Any other final pointers you’d like to give?”

  His fingers lace around the back of my head. “Yeah, just frickin’ do it, eh?”

  I wrap a hand around the base of his cock, and my lips around the rest. He tastes…he tastes amazing. His cock’s like velvet-wrapped steel as he fills my mouth. It’s sloppy. I get saliva and his pre-come all over my chin, but I keep going. I don’t want to stop. I love the taste of him, the crazy repetitive rock back and forth that somehow turns me on almost as much as it apparently does him.

  “Jas, I’m going to come.”

  No, not yet he isn’t. He’s a pro at this, and I’m a novice. There’s no way it’s happening this soon.

  “I’m serious, man. Oh…Get ready for it…”

  He grunts and I feel the hurricane of pleasure flow through his cock. Jets of warm salty spunk fill my mouth that I only just stop myself from swallowing on instinct. Pulse after pulse of the stuff gushes from him, until he gives a juddery sort of shake and is done. Only then does he ease his flagging erection free of my mouth.

  “The sink’s right behind you.”

  I rise up and turn, the taste of him filling my mouth, but he’s behind me before I manage to lean over and spit it out. He brings one hand up, and covers the front of my throat. “Swallow it,” he says. I jerk at the nip he gives my ear. “Swallow it like a good lover, and I promise you’ll get a reward.”

  Fuck! I don’t know what possesses me, but I do as I’m told.

  I turn around and Lorne brushes his thumb over my lips. He inhales softly. Then we’re kissing again, and he’s slipping his tongue into my mouth. It feels right, this closeness, the connection we’re building.

  “I can taste myself on you.”

  “I don’t know how this is supposed to work,” I confess.

  “Stop thinking about it and just live it. Mm, what’s this?” I’m hard against his hip. I shift, opening my legs, imagining for a moment that he’s going to take a turn on his knees and show me how a good cock-sucking is meant to be performed. He doesn’t do anything so predictable. I somehow get turned around so that I have my back to him. My hard-on is like steel when he palms me. I buck into his hand, not caring about anything besides the friction. I keep on getting harder. Soon my legs are trembling, and I’m clinging on to the worktop for support, no longer able to stay upright without it.

  Lorne starts kneading the muscles of my butt. At first I think it’s just something to do with the hand he’s not stroking me with. I’m such a blind idiot. Soon enough he’s on his knees, with his tongue trailing over m
y cheeks and exploring the channel between them.

  Tremors of lust rush through me. My face stings from the rush of blood, like I’ve been smacked hard. He pulls my cheeks apart, seeking better access. Tongue, fingers slide over my skin, caressing. How has every nerve in my body been relocated to one spot?

  “Oh!”

  “You like that, eh?”

  Thumb, I think. No, middle finger. He’s got his finger in my arse, and I’m thrusting blindly into the air now, not even vaguely in control of myself.

  He has his finger inside me.

  Fucking unreal.

  How the hell am I this close to blowing again?

  He strokes it in and out, swirling it around the rim before dipping back in again. I make that sound again, like the one that wormed its way up from my belly when I came inside Mikayla.

  “You do like that.”

  My fingers whiten from how viciously I’m clenching the counter edge.

  “Isn’t that right, Jas. You like that I’m fingering your ass?”

  I forgive him the rhyming. As for providing an answer, my vocal chords now only work to make the following sounds. “Ah,” “Oh,” “Waah,” and “More.”

  Abruptly, everything stops, and Lorne peels himself away from me. “Look at me,” he demands.

  It physically hurts to stand up and do so. I’m not only bastard stiff from the position he’s had me in, my balls are totally over-ripe and on the verge of bursting.

  “What’s it going to be, Jas? Are we calling it quits here, or are you going to go and get something so that we can finish this properly.”

  I’m not sure what to make of this new, bossy Lorne. Although, it’s not really bossy, so much as directive, and I guess he’s always had a certain degree of pushiness about him.

  What he thankfully doesn’t say, is “Are you ready to let me fuck you?” That’d still freak me out, even though that’s exactly what he asked in a different way.

  Am I ready?

  Absolutely not.

  Am I putting one foot in front of the other and fumbling around in the dark trying to locate what’s needed for that thing to happen? Apparently so.

  I actually stop breathing when Mikayla stirs while I’m standing at her side, clutching the bottle of lube and a duo of extra thick condoms.

  “Um, yes please,” she mutters dreamily.

  I run back to the kitchen.

  Lorne’s no longer where I left him. He’s waiting on the threshold to the lounge.

  “Armchair,” he says, having taken the acquired items from me.

  The fire’s burned down to a pile of smouldering embers, so he flicks on a lamp. I figure he wants me bent over the arm or something, but no, he sits in the leather wingback and rolls on the johnnie. “Climb up.”

  I hesitate and he makes a small sound of irritation in the back of his throat. “Don’t fucking do this now, Jasper. Seriously.”

  I take another pace forward.

  Wow, he looks so sexy, seated like a king in his throne. His chest’s a landscape of rises and hollows. The ink that winds around his arms, plays on my desire to touch. His handsome face is twisted with desire. “Get up here.”

  “In your lap? Seriously?”

  He nods. “It’ll be better this way. You’ll be able to control it more.”

  Right now, I’m not sure I want to be in control of anything.

  “First time, you’re only getting as much dick as you can actually take.”

  Maybe my confusion over that declaration shows as he elaborates. “I promise you’re going to want more than you’re ready for, and I’m definitely going to want more than you can take.”

  He likes to bang hard. I’ve already witnessed that.

  Lorne rests his arms on the chair wings. His hard cock flexes against the flat of his stomach. I’m only sorry that the barrier is obscuring my view of the ripe tip.

  He came in my mouth. The recollection makes me smile.

  He gazes at me, curious. Turns one wrist, so his palm is face up and beckons me with the curl of his index finger. He’s challenging me, seeing if I’ve the guts to actually go through with this.

  Fuck it, may as well admit he’s already seduced me and snatch whatever pleasure’s being offered. I push all the thoughts that threaten to snarl things up between us again to one side and climb astride his lap.

  My gaze is glued to his face, note-taking every reaction as I lower myself over his cock. He’s holding onto the base of it with one hand and has the other settled on my thigh and uses pressure there to direct my descent.

  The blunt tip of him prods my arsehole, provoking a moan.

  “You like that? Do you like the feel of me back there?”

  Like isn’t the word I’d use. The press of him against my wrinkled pucker is first-class torture. It’s heavenly, but I’m too thoroughly aware that the next step is going to take a certain amount of grit and determination.

  “Don’t try and force it.” He squeezes with his fingers. “Slowly now. Take a deep breath. Blow it out, open up, and sink down a little.”

  That’s what I’m trying to do, but sweet baby chickens…He’s so slippery, it’s hard to stay lined up, and my muscles are determined to repel all boarders. I’m at the point where I’ve convinced myself this is never going to happen when Lorne suddenly slips right past the guard. My eyes roll back into my head. Jeez! I don’t know what to make of the sensation. It’s tight and crazy uncomfortable. The urge to push him out is incredibly strong, and yet his presence there is both thrilling and weirdly addictive.

  “And again,” he urges while palming my rock solid woody. “Open up for me. Let me in.”

  He’s already in.

  Okay…okay…apparently that’s not entirely true.

  “Yes,” a hiss of triumph passes his lips. “That’s it, all the way. Well okay, a couple of inches short is good.”

  I hope he’s jerking my chain about only being half inside me, because it feels as if there’s at least a metre of his massive schlong impaling my arse.

  “Ride me,” Lorne instructs. His strong fingers claw upon my arse. The tendons in his fore-arms stand proud as he jerks me up and down. There’s probably only millimetres of movement, but that’s enough to turn me into a delirious mess of cravings. I need him to stop, and to punish me harder. I need to hear more of those crazy noises that he’s making in his throat and more of his savage hot gasps that scald my skin.

  Something’s starting. I don’t recognise what it is at first. It’s like a wave of pressure building. Heat’s rolling through my body, and we’re now both moaning so loud it’ll be a miracle if we don’t wake Mikayla.

  I’m buzzing. I can literally hear bees inside my skull. I’m not as hard as earlier, but I’m every bit as turned on. Lorne’s forehead rests against my pecs. He’s sweaty and the heat of him is almost too much to bear. Something clicks. It’s like a piece of a puzzle just fell into place. I stop thinking and let go.

  We just fuck, and it’s amazing. I’m flying, and all the dissenting voices in my head are finally silent.

  I feel him come. Jeezus! I feel him come. Heck knows if the condom is still intact, because I felt the force of his juice flying free.

  He’s done, and I’m still spiralling.

  Lorne covers my face with kisses. He’s still inside of me, but his concentration is now wholly on what he’s doing to my dick—jerking me like he’d knuckle shuffle himself. My balls don’t take a whole heap of convincing to release the goodies.

  Hell yes! I wasn’t wrong to come here and allow myself to give this a chance.

  But what happens once the snow clears?

  Lorne and I are going to be seeing a heck of a lot of one another, but what about Mikayla? When she leaves, there’s no guarantee either of us will ever see her again.

  “You’ve made a right mess of us both.”

  Lorne’s smiling at me like the Cheshire cat. My come is splattered all across his chest.

  “Sorry.”

&nbs
p; “Don’t be. Life’s messy. It’s nothing a little clean-up won’t fix. Speaking of which, it might be time for you to lift up.”

  I do just that and he grabs hold of the condom to keep it in place while he pulls out of me. He knots it up and tosses it onto the fire. The rubber immediately melts into a puddle on the hot coals.

  We both end up on our feet. I’m roasting, but I only know it because of the sweat cooling on my skin.

  Lorne catches hold of me. He kisses me more gently than I think he’s ever done. “Are we cool?”

  I puff a breath up towards my forehead. “We are.”

  “Ready for some shut-eye?”

  “Almost,” I remind him of the clean-up task we both still need to undertake. “You’re not going to wade over to the bathroom are you?”

  “Nah! I intend to make judicious use of some baby wipes I spied in the kitchen, and then take a long glorious piss out of the door.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lorne Everett

  We’re good only as long as it takes to reach the bedroom. The moment we enter, Jasper’s back stiffens and knots up from the shoulders down. I literally feel them form under my hand.

  I suppose it was too much to hope that one good shag would really fix everything.

  He stops just inside the door and stares expectantly at Mikayla, as if she’s about to rise up and chastise him for what he’s just done. I think she’s about the last person on the planet that’d tell him gay sex was wrong. Her only gripe would be that we didn’t wake her so that she could watch.

  “You’re wall building.”

  “I’m not. I’m just thinking.”

  “Then stop it.” I give him a push, to get him moving towards the bed again. “Jas, she’s not going to get weird about the fact we fucked.”

  He jerks away from my touch. “Will you not say it so loud,” he hisses. “And it wasn’t that I was thinking about.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” I say, lowering my voice. “I didn’t realise it had to be kept a secret.” I’m yawning my head off, and I think my patience for drama ran out.