by Blue Saffire
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” I said. “I just… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said. “Why don’t we just eat? Then we can talk or whatever.”
I shook my head. “You’re so nice,” I said.
“Wait until we get to know each other,” he said with a smirk. “There’s food, and they sent us champagne, you know, to celebrate our wedding.”
“Do they always do that with the honeymoon suite?” I said as I walked over to the little table next to the bed.
I looked at Logan and I noticed that he was also wearing his pajamas. He hadn’t been when I had arrived, so I assumed he had done so to make me more comfortable. I couldn’t help but smile.
“You like a burger, right?”
I nodded. “Yup,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “These are expensive, but I charge them to my airline.”
“You didn’t have to feed me.”
“I’m not,” he said. “The airline is feeding you. I’m just sort of around.”
“Is the airline paying for the suite too?”
“No,” he said. “I mean, they’re paying for some of the hotel, but I’m paying the difference.”
I looked around the honeymoon suite. “I can pitch in,” I said.
“Just get the next one,” he said. He popped the champagne. I watched as the lid went somewhere in the room, then he poured the champagne into my glass and he made a toast to the storm.
“To the storm,” I said. “And to Cleveland.”
It made him laugh, which made me laugh too. We ate quietly, neither one of us saying much. I was waiting for him to tell me how the night was going to go, and I think he was waiting for the same thing. It wasn’t until we were both practically done with our food that he looked up at me and smiled. “I know this must be a little weird for you,” he said. “But I did mean what I said. If nothing happens between us, then that’s definitely okay by me. I’m just enjoying spending time with you.”
“What makes you think I don’t want anything to happen between us?” I heard the words coming out of my mouth, but I immediately wanted to take them back. That was too bold, and there was too much there. It was too fucking complicated.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you want, Devon. I just know that I want you to be comfortable.”
“I am comfortable. More comfortable than I expected to be.”
“Have you never done this before?”
“Which part?”
He stared at me.
I chuckled. “I haven’t done any of this before. I haven’t ever met someone in a hotel like this, and I’ve never even kissed another guy. I don’t do one-night stands. But this…”
“What about this?”
“I don’t know. I guess, for some reason, it doesn’t feel wrong.”
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being who you want to be with.”
“Yes. But don’t you wish you wanted to be with somebody more… convenient?”
He cocked his head. “Oh boy.”
“What?”
“I mean, it might be more convenient, but I definitely wouldn’t say it would be better,” he said. “Being who I am has afforded me a wealth of opportunity and culture that felt very foreign and unrealistic when I was growing up in the shitty town I grew up in.”
“So you’re telling me that being gay was a blessing for you?”
He looked away before he answered, as if he had to think about it. “It was a challenge. And the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Why?”
“Because if I hadn’t been gay, if had I just been another boy who grew up in Danville, I would have probably died there. There is wrong with having wife and kids and working hard at your trade job, but the world is so small there. I wanted the world to be big. I just knew it had to be, because I had to fit in somewhere.”
“So you wouldn’t change it.”
“No, I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
I looked him up and down. He looked so relaxed, so much like nothing in the world worried him. I could still see his features from when he had been just a child, the long nose, covered in freckles, the big wide eyes, the long lashes. He looked so self-assured and confident in himself, whereas before it had felt like his body was too big for him, like he would do anything to divert attention from himself. It made him even more attractive, but it also made me want to jump across the table and give him a hug.
I nodded, taking a deep breath before I quietly spoke. “I wish I knew when I was younger.”
He smiled at me. “When did you know?”
“Well, that’s the thing, I still don’t know.”
He nodded. “And you want me to help you find out?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that, but yeah.”
“Why wouldn’t you put it like that?”
“Because.”
He raised his eyebrows.
I shook my head. “I don’t want you to think I’m just using you.”
“What’s wrong with just using me?”
I swallowed. When I looked up at him, his gaze was firmly on my face. His lips were parted, and his skin was slightly reddened. I had to look away from him. He was looking at me so intensely, I didn’t know how I could look back at him. “I don’t know. I don’t know if that’s okay.”
“Then all you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t know what I would ask?”
He smiled. “I mean, in a way, aren’t you already asking?”
I shrugged. I looked down at my empty plate of food, and then up at the man in front of me. He hadn’t stopped looking at me. My entire body felt like it was on fire, and I wanted to close the space between us and put my lips on his. But I couldn’t do that, not before I told the truth. He deserved to know the truth, especially if he was going to let me experiment with him. I focused my gaze on the shiny fork I hadn’t even touched. When I spoke, I did so quietly. “Logan, there is something that I need to tell you.”
“Yes?” He didn’t sound annoyed, he didn’t even sound curious.
“You know how you messaged someone on the plane? Wishing them a good flight?”
I looked up to see him furrow his brow. “Right?”
“That was me.”
He laughed quietly. “That’s funny,” he said. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”
“I wanted to tell you the truth. If… If we are going to go through with this, I want to be honest with you.”
He smiled. “Look, I know you’re worried, but there’s nothing to be worried about. We’ll take it slow, we will stop if you want to stop, and then we never have to see each other again.”
I licked my lips. “What if I want to see you again?”
“Then we will tell the story about the hook-up at our wedding,” he said, then put his hand over mind when he saw me blanch. “Seriously, relax. We are both here to have a good time, so let’s just do that. Whatever that means.”
“What if I don’t know what that means?”
“Then we’ll find out. Together.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, he had gotten up and he had walked over to where I was. He leaned down, grabbed my face softly, and tilted it up with a crooked finger. I was so close to him I could see the little gray specs in his eyes. I could see the dark ring around his iris, the way his long lashes framed those gorgeous brown eyes of his. I thought about turning away, but only for a second. His lips were on mine, and he was kissing me, slowly at first, letting me get acclimated to the way his beard filed against my skin. I had never kissed somebody with a beard before and it made my skin tingle as the rest of my body reacted to his touch with building heat.
He moved his face away from mine and smiled. “We can start with that,” he said. “If you want.”
My gaze darted between his lips
and his eyes. I leaned in for another kiss, pressing my mouth against his own, letting the heat build up between us until he moved away from me. He groaned as our gazes locked. “So,” he said. “What do you want?”
“You,” I replied, hoping that would be enough for him. His hand was on my cheek and his eyes were looking into mine.
He stroked my jawline with the tip of his finger. Slowly, he stroked my chin and then my lower lip. I opened my mouth slightly to allow him access, then swirled my tongue around his salty finger. It felt like a lot, and like neither one of us had been expecting it, because he removed his finger from my mouth as he continued staring right at me.
It felt like he never moved his gaze away from my face. His gaze felt electric, somehow even more erotic than the way he was touching me. He pressed his lips onto mine, kissing me once again, this time softly. It took me a second to respond to him, to kiss him back, to put my hand on the back of his head. I’d kissed many people, but I had never kissed anyone the way I was kissing him.
I was kissing him hungrily, like all I had ever wanted was to taste him. And that felt right, that felt like the only thing I wanted, like the only thing I could ever want. He tasted of salt and sugar and caffeine and I never wanted to stop kissing him, I never wanted to stop exploring the edges of his tongue, the way the base of his skull felt as it met the back of his neck on the palm of my hand, our faces pressed so close together that I was sure we were both having a hard time breathing.
I moved away from him when I felt like I might faint. He was smiling at me, his eyes glimmering. I swallowed and looked down at the floor, my cheeks red, my entire body shaky. He kneeled down in front of me and grabbed my hand. “Are you okay?”
I could hear him, but I couldn’t see his face. I focused on his sharp, masculine shoulders, on the way his black shirt hugged his body, on the way his body moved as he breathed in and out heavily.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m… I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? Because you can tell me if you’re not,” he said. He sounded concerned. I searched for him with my gaze and tried my best to flash him a smile. He was so fucking gorgeous. He looked like a still painting as he looked into my eyes.
“No, I’m okay,” I said. “I’m better than okay. I’m just…”
He waited for me to say something else.
“I’m just overwhelmed,” I said. “This is a lot.”
“We can stop.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Good,” he said, his smile widening into a grin. “Because, as far as I’m concerned, I could spend all day night just kissing you.”
I swallowed and looked away from him, at the tidily made bed with the white quilt and golden embroidery on the pillowcases. “I don’t think that’s what I want,” I said.
“Okay,” he replied. “Well, we don’t have to—”
“No, I mean, I don’t think I only want to kiss you,” I said, my voice shaky. “I want… to do more than that.”
He stood up and put a curled finger under my chin again. I thought he was going to lean down to kiss me once more, but he didn’t. He just looked at me, his jaw hardened, his eyes wide, his lips pursed. It was as if I had given him permission to do something, though I had no idea what that something was.
“I will do anything you want me to do,” he said, his voice a growl.
I groaned. “I don’t know what I want you to do,” I said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me up so we were both standing. He was a little taller than me and, although he wasn’t holding me, he was enveloping me, his body hard and firm against my own, his scent the only thing filling my head. He smelled like fabric softener and beard oil. I could feel him on me, in me, surrounding me. Even his presence was heady, like strong wine.
He wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him. I felt his body against mine, his pectoral muscles through the thin fabric of his cotton shirt, his taut, tight masculine body pressing against my own, the soft curve on his stomach on mine. I could feel how hard he was through the fabric of his pajamas and I was sure that he could feel how hard I was, too.
I tilted my head up—I wasn’t sure if it was to speak or to kiss him—but before I could decide, his lips were pressed against my own, and he was kissing me passionately, hungrily, like he couldn’t get enough of me. His arms were wrapped firmly around my waist and he was pressing hard against me with his entire body. It wasn’t just his tongue warring against mine against my mouth, it was all of his body, and there was a part of me that wanted to fight.
Fight against what my body wanted. Fight against how he felt when he was pressing against me, when all I could feel was his body on mine. Fight the way I felt as he kissed me, his lips glued on mine, his scent permeating into my own skin. When he pulled away from me, I felt empty, like everything was wrong for a second.
Then he grabbed my chin again, this time firmly, grasping me just enough to bring to the edge of pain and nothing else. He wasn’t hurting me, but he was serious and I could tell he was serious from the way he was holding my face, from the way he was looking at me.
When he spoke, his voice was a growl. “Say it,” he said.
“What?”
“Tell me what you want.”
“You,” I said. “I want you.”
He smiled at that. His eyes glimmered and I could feel him press himself harder into me, his body lean and strong. He kissed me again, softly at first, his lips barely grazing against my own.
He moved away from me, putting some space between us. It felt wrong. I instantly wanted to walk over to where he was, melt into his lips, feel his body on mine. He turned around and began walking toward the bed, so I followed him. It felt like my body didn’t know what it was supposed to do, so it wasn’t until he was on the bed that I began to speed up. It still felt like I was walking through water. My head was swimming, but my head didn’t matter much. All that mattered was my body, the way it felt, the way I was reacting to this man in front of me.
He didn’t sit down. He stood next to the bed, towering near me, looking at my face as I approached him like a lost puppy. I stepped close to him and tilted my head up. He kissed my lips as he slung his arm around my waist, pressing me close to him. He expertly flipped us around so that my back was to the bed and he was facing me, then he moved away from me and pushed me down softly.
As I landed on the bed, he got on his knees. He did so in one quick motion, looking up at me, his eyes wide. “You can still back out,” he said as his gaze darted from my cock to my face. It was clear that I was extremely turned on, because of the tent in pajama pants. Still, I didn’t get the sense that he was teasing me. He just wanted me to be sure. I looked down at him, at his beautiful face, and I nodded, our gazes locked.
He didn’t need me to give him any more permission after that. He inched his face closer to my cock and breathed out. I could feel his breath through the thin fabric of my pajamas. As he begun to approach me, I felt my entire body shudder. He put the ends of his fingertips under the waistband of my pants and began to pull them down. I could feel the warmth coming from the end of his fingers, the way his nails felt as they softly scratched my skin.
As he got to my knees, he looked up at me again, a wicked smile on his face. His eyes had a glint in them, one I didn’t think I’d seen before. “You’re so beautiful,” he said as he looked up at me.
I opened my mouth to return the compliment, but found myself absolutely unable to speak. He was beautiful and I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything. My mouth was dry, my lips glued shut, my hands digging into the soft white duvet under me.
He began to kiss the inside of my legs, slowly at first. Even his presence so close to my cock made my cock twitch, it made my entire body twitch. It made me feel like I was going to explode. He took his time exploring the inside of my legs, though I could tell that he wanted my dick. He kept glancing at it, stopping for a second, then deciding that it was better to go back to
my legs. Every time he did so, my entire body shivered, wanting and discontent.
He knew exactly what he was doing to me. He knew it as he looked up into my eyes, as he began to get closer to my throbbing hard cock. He knew I wanted him. I could tell that he wanted me from his heaving breaths, from the way that he bit down on his lower lip. Our gazes locked for a second, then he grabbed the waistband of my black boxers and began to slide down them down my legs. I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t necessary, or maybe that it was too much, or something… I wanted to speak to him, but there was no way that I could speak, because I was fully entranced by everything that he was doing, by the way he was handling me.
He ran his lips over my skin as he approached my hardened dick, nudging me with his cheek. “Do you want me to do this?” he asked. He didn’t look up at me when he asked, he spoke into my crotch.
I nodded.
“I need you to say it, Devon,” he said.
“I want this,” I replied, my voice a whimper. “Yes. I want this.”
“Good,” he said.
He moved away from me for a second, then wrapped his mouth around my cock. It was perfect—warm and soft and tight, everything I could have ever wanted. He didn’t move at first, letting me get used to his presence, to the way his mouth felt as it gripped my cock. He was looking up at me, waiting for a reaction, waiting for me to say something. To say anything.
I groaned, throwing my head back. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to speak at all. “Fuck,” I said. “Fuck, fuck.”
That seemed to be the only thing he needed. He began to move his head up and down the length of my cock, swirling his tongue around the head, his mouth tight on my cock. He held my gaze as he sucked me off. I felt my legs begin to shake as he continued to move his head up and down, heat building from the core of my body to my extremities.
“Wait,” I managed to say. “Wait.”
He moved away from me. He did so slowly, so that he wouldn’t hurt me. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “I just…”
He waited.
“I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
He bit down on his lower lip. “Why not?”
