by Whitley Gray
Breathless, Jamie leaned in for a kiss. “Don’t stop. Please.”
Nothing in Jamie’s expression said stop. In fact, the heavy-lidded gaze read, Touch me. Taking that as a sign, Remy reached inside Jamie’s briefs. A hot cock sprang forward into Remy’s hand, tip wet with excitement. Fuck, no stopping now. He worked Jamie’s clothing out of the way and gave the hot flesh a few leisurely strokes. Jamie whimpered and rocked against him. Jamie shoved Remy’s boxers down; long fingers wrapped around his shaft and gently squeezed him. Jamie’s hand moved in an easy glide, perfect pressure, a bit of a twist beneath the head. The other hand cradled Remy’s nuts.
Fuck, yeah. Remy murmured, “Just like that, yeah.”
Remy wrapped his hand around Jamie’s dick and pumped. There was nothing like it, the feel of a man’s hand moving on Remy while he administered the same slippery slides. The give and take, of knowing another had him by the balls in the very best way.
Jamie thrust into the grip, finding the rhythm, setting the pace. His lips fastened on Remy’s, warm tongue exploring as they worked each other. Chest to chest, skin feverish, hearts pounding, hips pumping. Incredible.
Jamie moaned.
“Good?” Remy nipped at Jamie’s ear.
“So good.” Jamie tilted his head to the side. “More.”
Smiling, Remy adjusted his hold and pumped faster. Jamie kissed him; his hands moved to Remy’s biceps and slid to his waist. Remy encircled their cocks, jerking them together. It was almost too much, right at the edge between pleasure and pain.
Jamie’s thrusts became frantic, and he tore his mouth away, panting.
“Oh, God…going to—”
A second later, Jamie threw his head back with a cry. Hot pulses of semen shot over Remy’s hand and on his chest.
Jamie at rest was beautiful. Jamie in the throes of orgasm was otherworldly. For a moment, Remy lost the rhythm and tightened his grasp. A couple more pumps and the electric heat of release raced through him, and he buried a yell against Jamie’s neck.
As the stickiness cooled between them, Jamie trembled and nuzzled Remy’s shoulder. Remy sat up, grabbed the towel off the footboard and wiped them clean before hauling Jamie into his arms. Stroking the knobs of Jamie’s spine, Remy luxuriated in the heat of his skin as he learned the contours of his back. Jamie sighed, and Remy settled Jamie against him for a nap.
* * * *
“More pasta?” Remy asked.
Jamie stared across the table and shook his head. What could he say after letting his host treat him to a long-overdue orgasm? Please pass the spaghetti?
The explosive release brought about by Remy’s gentle hand had been stellar. After their brief nap, Remy had helped him to the bathroom, started the shower running, and left, mumbling something about fixing dinner. Alone under the stark lights Jamie’s afterglow had given way to uncertainty. Had he talked Remy into it? Remy had seemed more concerned about Jamie wanting to proceed—and he had. In the moment, Jamie had craved it, hadn’t cared about the consequences.
But now…Jamie felt a little slutty and a lot embarrassed.
God, Remy looked sad. He’d done everything to be a good host, and Jamie had taken advantage. What a horrible guest. Jamie set his fork on his plate. “Remy?”
His head snapped up. “Yeah?”
“About this afternoon. I’m sorry if I got carried away. It felt so good to give you a massage. It made me want you, and—” Heat boiled in Jamie’s face. And I haven’t actually chosen to do that in ages.
Remy pushed his plate aside and laid both hands on the table, palms down. “You don’t owe me an apology. If anything, I owe you one. I’m the one who took it to the next level.”
“You’ve been so good to me, and I took advantage of you.”
“Not at all. I enjoyed it, the massage and the release.” Remy slid a hand across the table and over the back of Jamie’s hand. “I like you, Jamie. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone, but you’re not just a convenient body that happened to be in my guest room. This was a first. I never do stuff like that. I wanted you. You wanted me, and we acted on it. Doesn’t have to be weird.”
Jamie looked away. But it did feel weird.
Remy took Jamie’s other hand. “Please stay. I don’t want things to be awkward. If you don’t want to do anything further, I’ll respect that. We’ll call it friends, and that’s fine with me. But please stay.”
And risk more complications? “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Please, Jamie.”
Sighing, Jamie squeezed Remy’s hands. If Jamie stayed, he’d want more. And it certainly sounded like Remy would be up for more. “What if we decide we want to do something?”
“That can be arranged.” Remy kissed the back of his hand. “C’mon.”
They retired to the living room and curled up on the couch for some TV watching. Surprisingly, it didn’t feel weird. It felt natural. Comfortable. Jamie felt at ease with Remy’s arm around him. After a while, he snuggled against Remy’s side, and the one-armed hug turned into a cuddle. Jamie loved the security of being held yet still free to move. It made him feel powerful. It made him horny. He inhaled Remy’s woods-and-rainwater cologne and kissed his neck.
Remy stilled and slanted a gaze at him.
“We agreed it was okay if we wanted to do something, right?”
A faint frown formed between Remy’s eyebrows. “Right.”
“I want to kiss you.”
“I don’t want to go ahead if you’ll have regrets afterward.” Remy slid his fingers through Jamie’s hair.
“I won’t.” He kissed Remy on the lips, and Remy groaned. “Please?”
“You’re addictive, you know that? Impossible to resist.” Remy deepened the kiss. In seconds, kissing morphed to full-on making out.
Jamie squirmed as his hard-on progressed from swollen to uncomfortable. “Bedroom?”
“Yeah.” Remy’s eyes were halfway closed, and he licked his lips. “Yeah.”
* * * *
This time was slower, exploring each other’s bodies with hands and lips and tongues. Jamie hadn’t kissed this much since high school. Remy did it well. Really well, like an expert. Jamie had forgotten how arousing making out could be, tongues twined, warm exhales across his cheek, breathing together until they both had to come up for air.
Nothing compared to the silkiness of Remy’s hair, tousled bedhead-style. His body was sleek, muscles long and lean—a runner’s build like Jamie’s. For the first time, he realized tall, dark, and bulky wasn’t his type. God, he’d missed this.
Eyeing Remy, Jamie worked his shorts and briefs down over the splint and then off. In unspoken agreement, Remy slid off his own boxers.
They lay on their sides facing each other, kissing, cocks engaged in a leisurely duel. Remy moved on top, lacing his fingers with Jamie’s and sliding their cocks together.
Jamie tensed. Not trapped, not trapped. Don’t hyperventilate. Relax.
Remy broke the kiss, expression serious as he studied Jamie with his gray-eyed gaze. Jamie flushed and looked away. It didn’t take a medicine man to read intimidation. Remy would think Jamie couldn’t deal with more than a handjob. I’ve blown it.
Remy slid to the side and rolled them face-to-face before gently kissing Jamie and sweeping a thumb across his cheekbone. “Okay?”
Safe. See? Jamie nodded, seeking out Remy’s mouth.
With a groan, Remy pushed their hips together, sandwiching their dicks between them, hot and hard and leaking precum. This was pleasant. Thrilling. Remy cared about Jamie’s experience. He hadn’t climbed on and overpowered Jamie. For once, Jamie could ask for more without fearing the consequences. He draped a leg over Remy’s, pulling him closer, sliding against him.
Remy’s fingers trailed down Jamie’s spine and into the top of his crease, tickling a bit and then pulling back, as if testing Jamie’s response.
He whimpered and slid his leg up to Remy’s hip, opening to his tou
ch. Another couple of feathering strokes didn’t make it down to where Jamie wanted it most.
“Touch me. Please.”
Remy ducked his head and kissed Jamie’s neck. Those long fingers worked downward and teased Jamie’s opening. He sucked in a breath.
“You like that?” Remy whispered.
“More. Please. Want to feel you inside.”
“You sure about this? We don’t have to fu—”
“I’m sure,” Jamie whispered.
For a few seconds, Remy gazed at him, and then he rolled away, opened the drawer of the nightstand, and pulled out lube and a condom. “What would be easiest on your ankle?”
“Probably my side.” The unwieldy splint didn’t allow for much creativity. Much as Jamie wanted to see Remy’s face as he came, the enjoyment would go out of it in a heartbeat if Jamie banged his ankle.
“Okay.” Remy kissed him. “Stay on your left side.”
Jamie nodded. Remy shifted around behind him and stretched out, skin against skin, shoulders to knees, and his lips explored the back of Jamie’s neck. Remy’s palm stroked him from shoulder to elbow and then rested on Jamie’s hip. No manhandling, no confinement, no iron grip. Remy swirled his tongue behind Jamie’s ear, triggering a shiver. God, he’d missed foreplay, forgotten how good it could be.
“You are so beautiful, you know that?” Remy murmured.
Nice to hear, even if Jamie wasn’t sure that was the case. Jamie pushed his hips into the cock riding his ass and moaned. “Remy…”
Remy urged him to bend his knee, and he complied; warm fingertips ran up the inside of Jamie’s leg. His breath caught as a finger grazed his hole. Trapped between them, Remy’s cock nudged Jamie’s spine. The cap of the lube bottle clicked, followed by a squirt. At the first touch of the warm slick, Jamie jumped. A shiver went through him. Sure about this?
“You okay?” Remy kissed his shoulder.
“Yeah.” Jamie turned his head and wrapped his hand around Remy’s neck, pulling him in for an awkward kiss, needing the reassurance.
A couple more light touches, and then Remy insinuated a fingertip. Jamie’s sphincter promptly clenched in response. Relax. Only a finger. He won’t hurt you. Jamie took a deep breath, let it out, and Remy’s finger pressed in, moving in tiny circles, loosening him.
“Doing okay?” Remy asked.
“Yeah.”
“If you change your mind, all you have to do is say the word.”
Pasadena? No, there was no safe word. Because it wasn’t necessary. All Jamie needed was the word stop. “Okay.”
As Remy added a second finger, his tongue teased Jamie’s ear. “Relax.”
After an eternity of stretching, Remy twisted his fingers and sparks showered inside Jamie. The fingers rubbed that magic spot inside again, producing a surge of astonishing electricity.
“Oh, God.” Jamie squirmed. Heat flooded his body. It was sweet, having Remy care about Jamie’s pleasure. “Please, Remy. More.”
Gently, Remy’s fingers withdrew. Foil tore, and the lube bottle squirted. A few seconds later, Remy’s cockhead prodded Jamie’s hole. For a ridiculous moment, the memory of the giant dildo from his dream intruded. Then Remy’s warm palm teased Jamie’s nipple, yanking him back to the here and now.
Pressure intensified against his opening, and Jamie bit his lip. It wasn’t going to work, wouldn’t fit. Remy bit down on Jamie’s earlobe. He sucked in a breath at that spark of pain. Abruptly, Remy’s cock breached the resistance.
The ring of muscle seized and clamped down. Jamie clutched Remy’s thigh, stilling his motion. Crap. It had been a while.
“You okay?” Remy’s voice shook.
Swallowing hard, Jamie nodded. After a few seconds the burn receded. He loosened his grip, and Remy moved forward, pulled back, working inside a little at a time.
“God, you feel good.” Remy gasped as he pushed all the way in. “Tight.”
Jamie closed his eyes. So full, but a good full; the stretch was intense, along with the sensations of hardness and heat. Jamie rocked back to meet the strokes, that thick cock dragging across his sweet spot.
Every point of contact sizzled: the smooth chest pressed to Jamie’s back, the calescent mouth kissing his nape, the muscular forearm wrapping his waist.
Sizzle…
“Feels so good,” Jamie whispered.
Remy licked his shoulder, fingers trailing the underside of Jamie’s cock in a soothing caress. Jamie trembled. This was how it should be, a pleasurable give and take. No pain, no pounding until tears ran down his face. It was good. It was perfect.
Remy’s fingers closed around Jamie’s cock, grip warm and sure. Firm sliding down, soft sliding up, and that unique twist beneath the head that sent exquisite jolts of heat surging up Jamie’s spine. Sparks must be showering between them.
Every pump on Jamie’s cock, every thrust inside him, fed the inferno. If this kept up, Jamie’s nervous system would ignite with pleasure. Remy needed to know how sweet this was, but all Jamie could get out was, “Remy…”
“I’ve got you.”
Kisses rained down on Jamie’s neck as Remy moved faster, deep strokes that pegged his prostate, wringing a near sob from him. Much more and he’d be reduced to ashes. He teetered on the edge.
“Come for me, Jamie.”
Jamie didn’t want to come yet, didn’t want this to end. But the multitude of sensations made it impossible to hold back.
Heat raced through Jamie like the blinding rays of a sun, melting him from the inside out. Crying out, he came in liquid pulses. After a few more hard strokes Remy buried a yell against Jamie’s shoulder and forced himself deep, shaking with his release. For a time they lay panting, breath gradually settling to normal.
“You are amazing,” Remy whispered. Soothing kisses landed on Jamie’s neck.
In spite of himself, Jamie smiled. No one had ever said stuff like that to him.
Remy pulled free and nudged his face, captured his lips for a sweet kiss. “Be right back.”
Jamie’s eyes popped open. “Where are you going?”
“To get a towel. Stay put.” Remy slid away and headed for the bathroom. Jamie buried his face in the pillow, huddling on the bed. Was he about to be left alone again?
Water ran, and Remy returned. “Hey. Turn over.”
With a warm wet cloth, he wiped Jamie clean with gentle strokes and crawled up next to him. Wrapping an arm around Jamie’s waist, Remy pulled him in and kissed his nape, spooning his back. Gradually, Remy’s breathing became slow and deep, mesmerizing.
Maybe he could have something with Remy.
How many times have I thought that about a guy and had it fall apart? It hadn’t been that long ago that Jamie had promised himself he’d quit seeing stars every time a guy liked him. This time he’d stay independent and take care of himself.
Jamie stared across the room, at the bars of late-afternoon sunlight breaking through the blinds. What had he done?
Of all the stupid things… He’d promised Sarah he wouldn’t make a mistake, and he’d committed a big one. Screwing around with Remy, no matter what he’d said, no matter how hot he was—or how nice he was—couldn’t have a good outcome. This went beyond the usual host-guest relationship, and Jamie didn’t want to give the impression he’d trade sex for a place to stay. Remy had wanted it too, but not in a take-advantage-of-Jamie kind of way. He couldn’t see Remy acting like that. It had been tender.
Plus, Remy hadn’t left him shivering in bed and gone to take a shower alone, like Vince would have done. Remy had taken charge but hadn’t been rough, hadn’t inflicted pain to get off. No mounting and shoving inside. A shiver ran through him. No, nothing like Vince.
Behind him, Remy gave a soft snore, and his arm tightened around Jamie’s waist. Taking a deep centering breath, Jamie focused on relaxing. He’d rest for now. Deal with the fallout later. He closed his eyes and gave in to unconsciousness.
* * * *
Nu-nuh nu-nuh nu
-nuh nu-nuh, Batman…
The theme song broke into Jamie’s sleep. He rolled over—the bed behind him was empty and cold. No Remy. Jamie’s phone rang again, and he glanced at the number, hit the button.
“Hey, Baron.”
“Hey.” His old boss’s deep voice rumbled through the phone. “How’s it hanging?”
“Um, good. How’s business?”
“Brisk. Since you left, we’re swamped. New clients and old clients clamoring for your return.”
“It’s nice to be missed.” Jamie could picture his former coworkers in the break room, eating healthy snacks between clients, everyone dressed in the loose tops and pants Baron used as uniforms.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling.” Pause. “I need you back.”
Very tempting. Getting his old job back would solve a multitude of problems, including Remy. Jamie sighed. “I can’t come back, Baron. You know why I moved.”
“What’ll it take? A restraining order? Because you know I’ll help. And if it’s money—”
“No and no. He hasn’t made contact. At this point, I don’t think he will. And I’m…settling in.” Yeah, breaking my ankle, staying with a gorgeous doctor, and sleeping with him.
Movement in the doorway caught his attention. Remy stood there holding a tray laden with food. Pale blue boxers hung low on his hips. He mouthed “sorry” and backed up. Jamie motioned him forward.
“Aw, Jamie, help a guy out,” Baron said.
“Sorry. If I change my mind, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Here’s hoping. In the meantime, take care.”
“You too. Thanks for calling.”
“You bet. Bye.”
“Bye.” Jamie flipped the phone shut and smiled at Remy.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just a social call.”
“Thought you might be hungry.”
Jamie looked over the contents of the tray. Unbelievable. Grapes, whole wheat crackers, cheese. Hummus. Bottled water and white linen napkins. Vince would have cut off his own hand before he would have waited on Jamie. His heart gave a little squeeze in his chest.
“I left the wine off because of the pain pills. And I don’t drink during training.” Remy settled the tray between them and crawled up on the middle of the bed.
