Return to Sender

by Ashlyn Kane

  Emerson put a cautious, exploratory hand on Jonah’s abs, almost like he was counting the ridges, and that was just it.

  “Jesus Christ, Emerson, get your shirt off now.”

  Jonah didn’t miss the telling shudder or the poorly disguised moan or the way Emerson thrust hard down into his lap, but those things were for investigating at some other juncture, preferably once they had had six or seven orgasms to take the edge off. For the time being he contented himself with pulling the offending cotton up and away from Emerson’s skin so they could press their bare chests together.

  It was electric—more than electric; it was fucking nuclear. Emerson’s gasping sob echoed from the walls, and Jonah felt the surge of energy fill him up, make him act. Somehow he got one hand under Emerson’s implausibly incredible ass and the other between his shoulder blades and flipped him onto his back on the couch, following after and pressing his thigh up between Emerson’s, feeling the erection that was trapped there.

  Emerson made a noise like he was dying in the best possible way, so Jonah did it again, coupling it with the flicker of his tongue over Emerson’s nipple. Emerson jerked his hips beneath him, bringing his pelvic bone into delicious contact with Jonah’s dick, and one of his hands flew up to his mouth and stifled a perfectly delicious moan of enjoyment. “Fucking wanted this for years,” Jonah murmured into Emerson’s collarbone, licking first and then biting gently before stopping to suck a round purple bruise in the hollow of Emerson’s throat. “Thought about you like this, what I wanted to do to you.” A bite at one dusky nipple, a thrust of his hips, and another, louder gasp of encouragement from Emerson. “What I wanted you to do to me.”

  Shuddering all over, Emerson let his head fall back, his hands, clammy with sweat, making their way to Jonah’s back, urging him closer. “What—” he started, cutting himself off with a moan when Jonah sucked another bruise higher on his neck. “What should I—”

  Jesus. Jonah groaned. “Anything, God.” He pushed himself up on one hand long enough to grab Emerson’s arm, followed it down, turned and directed him until Emerson’s palm was pressing against the bulge in his jeans. “Just, fuck, touch me, please—”

  Emerson did, tentatively at first, just a tease of pressure, almost more frustrating than not being touched at all, and Jonah ducked his head down, bit at his earlobe until Emerson’s whining pants filled the room. “So fucking hot,” he whispered between licks down Emerson’s neck, his own breath catching as Emerson got more daring, increasing the pressure on his cock. “Knew you would be, Em, always knew it would be like this.”

  He mouthed Emerson’s Adam’s apple, pushed his knee up against Emerson’s erection until he sobbed loud into the room. “Fuck,” Emerson swore, thrusting his hips up again. “God, Jonah. That’s….”

  “You like it when I talk dirty to you, Emerson?” he asked huskily, not that he could stop if he wanted to. “Like knowing how hard you get me?”

  Emerson gave a choked-off cry as Jonah sucked up another bruise, this one just under his jaw line, and ran his thumbnail over his left nipple just hard enough to scratch. He fumbled frantically with the fly of Jonah’s jeans for a few excruciating seconds, and then his hand curled hot and firm around Jonah’s dick, and they both groaned.

  “Jesus, yes,” Jonah hissed, not bothering to resist thrusting into Emerson’s palm. “Like that, fuck, harder, Em, I’m not going to

  break—”

  Emerson licked his lips, whimpered, and fuck, Jonah had to kiss him, a truly filthy open-mouthed kiss that was all slick tongue and unadulterated desire. “Fuck, God, Em,” he gasped a minute later as Emerson’s thumb swept wetly over the head of his cock. “Yes, like that, Emerson, so hot, gonna make me come—”

  A strangled gasp fell from Emerson’s lips and Jonah licked it away while making good on his promise, fucking hard into his hand and spraying ropes of thick white come everywhere as his vision dimmed, and his heart pounded in his ears. He kissed Emerson sloppily, his mind still comfortably fuzzy, before drawing back enough to survey his handiwork.

  Come had spattered all over Emerson’s chest and stomach from his shoulder to the waistband of his jeans—and they hadn’t been spared either. The sight left Jonah feeling like he’d been kicked in the stomach. His mouth went dry, and his dick gave a valiant twitch indicating its interest. But now was really not the time for that. He’d already given Emerson too much damn time to get his head back on straight, and if he gave him any more, he was going to start panicking. Already was, if he was reading the renewed tension in Emerson’s posture right.

  Jonah drew an idle finger through the mess on Emerson’s chest, tracking the movement as he circled a nipple and swallowing hard. “This is a surprisingly good look for you,” he said hoarsely before sinking back down onto his elbows and kissing the apprehension out of Emerson’s mouth. It wasn’t long before the tension was gone, and Emerson was pushing his body up against Jonah’s again, obviously looking for some stimulation, but now that Jonah had him right where he wanted him, he wasn’t in any hurry. “You really need to read the fucking book I wrote you, Emerson,” he murmured, trailing his lips down Emerson’s neck to his chest again, heedless of the salt-bitter taste of his own come.

  “Oh, God,” Emerson whined when Jonah took one nipple between his teeth. “Jonah, please.”

  “Please what?” he asked, switching sides and sliding his right hand down to the front of Emerson’s jeans. “Please keep touching you? Please have my way with you? Please tease you all night until you wake all the neighbors with your screaming?”

  “Oh, God,” Emerson repeated. He tried to rub himself up against Jonah’s hand, but Jonah pulled away just in time.

  Deftly undoing the top button of his fly, Jonah pressed on, letting his fingers linger in the trail of sparse hair that led to Emerson’s dick. “Please make you come?”

  “Yes!” Emerson sobbed desperately. “Yes, okay? Please, Jonah.”

  Jonah drew down his zipper slowly before peeling back the fabric and trailing his fingers ever-so-lightly over Emerson’s cloth-covered erection. Suddenly he could smell Emerson’s arousal, and the scent made him lightheaded, dizzy. “I want to suck you,” he said, and Emerson shivered all over, moaning continuously. “I haven’t thought about anything else for a week, not since the flight. You were so nervous, I just wanted to shove you into the bathroom, get on my knees and make you forget.” Heart pounding, Jonah reached into Emerson’s boxers and pulled out his cock, already wet with pre-come. Emerson gave a wordless cry and tried to thrust into his hand, but Jonah kept his grip light. “I jerked off in the airplane bathroom thinking about it, Emerson. Like I was fucking fifteen again.” He slid his body lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses and love bites all down Emerson’s torso, scraping his teeth across the skin around his navel. “Let me do it, Emerson. It’ll be so good.” Emerson’s stomach was heaving as he practically hyperventilated. “Emerson. Can I? Can I suck you?”

  “Yes!” Emerson practically shouted. “Yes, yes, God, whatever you want, just—”

  §

  EMERSON’S fingers were trembling when he pressed them over his eyes. Oh God. It was too much. Jonah was, at that very moment, pulling down Emerson’s pants so that they weren’t in the way when Jonah went to suck him. Jonah was going to suck his cock.

  Emerson whimpered.

  God, if the idea alone was enough to make him want to come….

  “Yeah, Emerson.” When Jonah spoke, warm puffs of air blew over Emerson’s dick, making his thigh and stomach muscles tremble in response. “I can’t wait. Been dying to do this. To suck you.”

  He whimpered again. If Jonah didn’t stop talking he was going to spontaneously combust.

  Jonah leaned down, and then—

  Oh! That was Jonah’s tongue. On his dick. Licking all. The way. Up.

  His lips pressed together to muffle the moans, but when Jonah reached the head and gave it an extra lick, Emerson couldn’t stop the next one.

 
Nor could Emerson stop his hands from moving away from his face. One flew out to grab the back of the couch. The other landed next to his hip, where it curled in the gap between two cushions. Emerson felt like he might fly off the couch.

  He looked down and saw Jonah shoot him a filthy smile before he shifted his body and readjusted his grip. One large hand curved around Emerson’s hipbone, the other around his cock. Then Jonah leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the head. Oh so slowly, he started to slide down the length of it.

  It was too hot to watch. Emerson’s head fell back onto the armrest, and more whimpers flew out in a rush. The hand clutching the couch cushions rose without Emerson’s permission and gripped Jonah’s hair, which Jonah liked, judging from the way he let out a long moan around Emerson’s cock. The vibrations made heat spread through Emerson’s belly and out toward his fingers and toes. Emerson could feel the moan building, and fuck, he knew it would be loud.

  Desperately, he brought his left hand up, relinquishing his remaining hold on the couch to slap his palm over his mouth. God, he wished he could do better than simply muffle the noise. He wished more than ever that he could just shut himself up, but he had learned long ago that he could never keep himself quiet. The only thing he could do was try and stop some of the sound and keep the embarrassment level to a minimum.

  Jonah pulled up slowly until only the head of Emerson’s cock was in his mouth. Emerson could feel his tongue working at it, stroking and licking.

  Oh God!

  The other hand flew up to join the first, both pressing hard against his mouth, trying to keep the mortifying noises inside.

  He felt Jonah pull his mouth away and heard the obscene popping noise it made. Oh Jesus, Jonah was trying to kill him.

  “Emerson.” And now Jonah was stopping to talk to him. Emerson kept his eyes shut tight and his head tossed back. Maybe if he ignored him Jonah would go back to what he was doing with the licking and the sucking. “What are you doing?” Jonah asked him. His voice sounded kind of funny, husky and sexy, but also confused. Emerson squeezed his eyes tighter.

  “Emerson? Are you trying to silence yourself?” Jonah’s hands suddenly slid up his body and then his arms. They wrapped around his wrists and then began to pull on them.

  Emerson let Jonah pull his hands away. He could bring them back later.

  “Em, look at me.” It really wasn’t fair of Jonah to ask that, because Emerson couldn’t resist him when he used that voice.

  Letting his eyes flutter open, he looked down his body to see Jonah between his thighs. Oh, Lord, that just wasn’t fair.

  “Now, how about we try this again, but this time you don’t try and stop all those delightful noises before they leave your lips?” Jonah was grinning.

  “What?” Emerson blinked at him, uncomprehending.

  Jonah smirked and crawled up Emerson’s body, speaking all the while. “I like the noises you make. I want to hear you.” Their faces were level now, and Jonah leaned in to place a soft kiss on Emerson’s mouth. “So stop covering your mouth and let me.”

  Then Jonah was sliding back down his body and swallowing Emerson’s cock down deep.

  Christ!

  Emerson couldn’t help the way his back arched or the loud moan that pushed its way up his throat. Or his automatic response of slapping his hand over his mouth.

  “Hmm, I can see this might be a difficult habit to break,” said Jonah. And then he was pulling at Emerson’s arms and placing Emerson’s hands in his hair. “Next time you get the urge to do something else with those? Don’t.”

  Emerson stared at Jonah wide-eyed, confused, and unbalanced. Jonah wanted him to make a fool of himself?

  “Jonah,” he managed to get out. “I… I get really loud,” he muttered, embarrassed to admit it.

  Jonah’s response was to grin widely. “Oh, I hope so.” And funnily enough, he really sounded like he did. “Emerson, I like the noises you make. Now, let me suck you off.”

  Then he was leaning down and taking Emerson’s cock into his mouth once again. It was different this time, more focused. Jonah was sucking hard, bobbing his head up and down. His enthusiastic motions were so good that Emerson started to moan again. He pressed his lips together automatically, and his left hand started to uncurl from Jonah’s hair, but Jonah reached up and held Emerson’s hand where it was. Then he pulled up, sucking the whole time and running his tongue along the bottom of Emerson’s dick.

  It was too good. It felt too amazing, and Emerson couldn’t hold this moan back without his hands. It burst forward loud and obvious, and had Emerson not already been flushed with desire, he would have colored in embarrassment at the sound.

  Except… Jonah let out a moan in response and screwed his lips down farther than they had been before, while a hand reached down to stroke Emerson’s balls. Okay. Judging by the positive reinforcement Jonah was employing, he hadn’t been lying about liking Emerson’s noises.

  Jonah liked the way Emerson was when he was turned on.

  Jonah kept “encouraging” him until Emerson was soon making near-continuous noises of pleasure. Many were still muffled behind his clenched lips, and he kept trying to use his hand to cover up the loudest of them, but he was louder than he had ever let himself be before.

  “Jonah, I’m gonna… oh God! Do—more! More! Jonah!” Emerson wasn’t sure when exactly he had started babbling, but he thought it might have been around the time he realized he was about to come.

  He clenched his fingers and felt the silky strands between them. Jonah moaned encouragingly. One hand was curled around Emerson’s hip to keep it in place. The other was around the base of Emerson’s cock, jerking frantically.

  Emerson’s toes curled, and his thighs tensed. He started muttering, “Jonah, JonahJonahJonahJonah,” and he was still calling out for Jonah when he came hard down his throat. Emerson’s eyes were tightly shut, but the world still went white. His hips tried to push up, stopped only by Jonah holding him in place.

  The sound of Jonah’s satisfied moan, the feel of his large hands holding him still, and the strong suck Jonah added at the end had glorious aftershocks shaking Emerson’s body.

  Emerson lost some time. One moment he was coming, the next Jonah was leaning over him and smiling. “Emerson,” he said, making it sound like an endearment. Then he was kissing Emerson long and sweet. Emerson wrapped both arms around Jonah’s shoulders and didn’t fight it when the kiss made his toes curl.

  §

  “ARE you freaking out?” Jonah asked casually, flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

  “No,” Emerson blatantly lied into Jonah’s chest. It was really the only way to comfortably fit the two of them on the couch lying down. Not that Jonah was complaining.

  Jonah grinned. “Liar.” It was okay. Emerson only freaked out when he cared.

  “Yes,” Emerson admitted, sounding equal levels of annoyed and contrite.

  It took all of Jonah’s remaining energy to lift his head and look down at the man sprawled across his pecs. “Why?”

  There was what Jonah might call a very pointed silence. Then he said, a little more gently than he’d intended, “Do I need to spell it out with Shakespeare, Emerson?” Silence. Jonah’s lips quirked into a fond smile. “Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet?”

  “How about something that didn’t end in disaster for everyone involved?” Emerson stopped, and Jonah could practically feel him backpedaling. “Not that I—I mean if you have to—you don’t—”

  Jonah pouted theatrically. “That’s not fair. All the greatest love quotes are from tragedies.” The comedies were useless. “‘O, never say that I was false of heart, though absence seemed my flame to qualify.’” He carded his fingers idly through Emerson’s hair. “‘As easy might I from myself depart as from my soul which in thy breast doth lie.’”

  “Jonah. Don’t tease me.”

  “Do I sound like I’m joking?”

  A long moment of nothing, and then a gentle, juddering s
igh. Jonah went on, “I’m not going to take it back. I love you, and now you are stuck with me. Is that clear enough, or do I have to write you a sonnet?”

  Pause.

  “Emerson?”

  “I’m thinking!” Emerson said, mock-indignant, and Jonah laughed.

  “You don’t have to decide right now. In fact, please don’t decide right now.” A sudden thought occurred to him. “Emerson. This is why Zack hates me, isn’t it?” He propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch Emerson blush. He was so right. “That’s adorable.”

  “Shut up,” Emerson muttered into his trapezius.

  “Oh, make me,” Jonah challenged lightly, and Emerson surprised him by lifting his head, a calculating expression on his face, and crawling up a few inches to kiss him thoroughly.

  “So there.”

  There was no way to contain the goofy smile, so Jonah didn’t bother to try, just stared happily at the ceiling and ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of Emerson’s back a few times lazily. “Come to bed, Emerson.”

  Emerson froze.

  “To sleep, idiot,” Jonah chided, though he couldn’t blame Emerson for thinking that when the evidence of Jonah’s renewed interest was, if not exactly staring him in the face, at least poking him in the leg.

  “Oh,” Emerson said. “Alright.”

  Of course, when they got there, there was some amount of shifting around and making themselves comfortable, none of which did anything to ameliorate Jonah’s problem. Figuring his choices were to wait until it went away—and it could be a long wait, if he was going to be spending it curled up around Emerson—or go looking for trouble, Jonah took his chances and nuzzled his face into the back of Emerson’s neck, curling one proprietary hand over his hip.