by Jo Raven
But I’m learning to believe again. Believe in people. Believe in love.
It’s not easy. But Mom was right.
It’s the only way.
Joel is in a strange mood. Not bad, exactly. He’s not angry, or doesn’t seem to be. Not sad, although he has tear tracks on his cheeks, and that’s fucking with my peace of mind. Can’t remember ever seeing him cry. Maybe he never had many reasons to. Who knows?
Still. He’s sort of… blank. And I don’t fucking like it. Not one bit. Plus, my head hurts from the tension, a hammer beating the back of my eyes.
He’s passive as I seat him down on the edge of the mattress and tug off his shoes and socks, letting me do as I please with him. Yet his eyes are hot on me as I straighten and sit down beside him. There’s something there—a question? an answer?—that I can’t figure out, except I think it looks like a plea for help.
Then again, with his jaw and one eye bruised and swollen, I might be way off.
And it doesn’t help with my own fears. Because sure, he didn’t run off after the confrontation with his parents, which from the looks of it was epically bad, but it’s not as if we gave him a chance. We were right there, outside the door, as soon as he stepped out.
He could still run. Tonight. Tomorrow. Next week.
Dammit. I wish I could shut off my mind.
Then Joel reaches for me and my thoughts stutter to a total halt. His hands frame my face and he looks at me from under wet lashes. “I’m here.”
As if he can see right through my head, read my mind.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “You’re here.”
“Make me feel it.” His hands tighten on my jaw. “Feel you.”
I swallow hard. “What are you asking, J?”
“I need your brand on me, man. In me. I’m fucking serious. I feel like… Like I’m sinking into a black hole, and… it’s cold.”
Shock, I think faintly. He’s in shock. But he’s asking for my help and the fierce protectiveness blasting through me like a hot wind takes me by surprise.
“I’ve got you,” I tell him. “Just breathe. I’ll take care of you.”
He shivers when I slip my arms around him, hauling him against me. Then shivers again. “Damn.”
“Candy!” Where is she? She always manages to calm him down. “Come here, sugar.”
“Coming!” She appears at the bedroom door, breathless, her hair coming out of her ponytail, framing her face in soft waves. “Sorry, I was locking up.”
“Let’s warm J up.”
She blinks, then she throws her glasses on the nightstand and she’s on the bed in an instant, stroking Joel’s hair and kissing his face. “What do you need?” she asks him, and he turns his head, finding her mouth with his.
Yeah. That’s what he needs. Her touch. After all, her touch is not forbidden. It’s me he argued with his parents over. It’s me who’s in his way of being their golden boy, the perfect—
His hand snakes around the back of my head and jerks me forward. He breaks the kiss with Candy to attack my mouth, crushing his lips to mine.
My mind blanks out as he sucks on my mouth and angles my head to deepen the kiss and thrust his tongue inside.
When he draws back, I’m dizzy with lack of oxygen and my body pulsing with pure, white-hot desire.
Whoa.
“What do you want, J?” Candy asks quietly, her eyes bright. “Anything you like. We could sprawl on the couch under a blanket and watch one of those history documentaries you’re collecting. Or we could bake cookies together. Or—”
“I want to fuck,” he says, his voice hoarse, and the raw honesty of that hits me straight in the gut.
Yeah, I’d sort of figured as much. That kiss was a dead giveaway. But is it really what he needs? Or only what he thinks he needs?
“J, we won’t let you sink.” I lick my lips, because turning down sex with Joel is tough. “But we could just sit and talk and—”
He pushes off the bed, so suddenly I almost fall backward on the mattress, and strides to the window, his bare feet whispering on the carpet. He splays his hand on the glass and bows his head. “Fuck,” he whispers.
I exchange a worried look with Candy. “Dammit, I think I’m making things worse.”
“It’s not you,” she whispers, but she slips off the bed and pads over to him, kicking off her shoes in the process. “Hey, J…”
She lifts his arm, burrows against his side, and he sighs. I can see his face reflected in the glass, his eyes half-closed, that fuckable mouth a little slack. He doesn’t look angry.
But he looks kinda defeated, and I hate that.
“I love you,” he whispers, so low I barely hear it. “You two, you are all that matters.”
“Your family also matters,” Candy protests. “Today must have been hard on you. You can say it.”
“It was.” He nods, a light dip of his chin. “I won’t deny that. Fuck, I can’t deny it.” He pulls his hand from the glass and touches his swollen jaw. Winces. “But you two are what matters the most to me. Your presence. Your opinion. Your…”
He swallows. Shakes his head.
“We love you, too,” Candy says. “Don’t you know that?” He nods again, looking too much like a lost little boy. “Anything you need, J.”
“Told you. I need you. Need to feel you. Fucking feel you everywhere. It’s as if…” He trails his hand to his chest. “As if I can’t feel my own skin. My flesh and bones.”
I get up, my heartbeat thrumming in my throat, behind my ribcage, at the base of my cock. “We’ll make you feel again.”
His gaze slides sideways to find me. “I need you to fuck this cold out of me.”
I can’t breathe properly, every inhale catching in my lungs. “Fucking hell. Get back to bed, J. Now.”
I’m done protesting. Done trying to decide for him. He wants this, and hell, I want it. Maybe I need it, too. Hell knows I’ve been barely scraping by these past weeks, mired in my bad dreams and doubts, and I need to feel something, too. Something deeper, because I feel hollow inside.
No matter what goes down tomorrow or next week, this is happening tonight.
***
I push him down on the pillows and kiss the living shit out of him, while Candy pulls off her long sweater and fiddles with her pants. I kiss him until his dick is hard and straining inside his pants and his breath comes in short gasps.
When I draw back, he grabs me with a desperate strength, his gaze frantic. “Jet…”
“Not going anywhere,” I inform him. “I’ll get the lube. You get Candy ready.”
“I’ll get him ready,” she counters, and I nod, a smile fighting to surface through the haze of desire that has fallen over my senses.
“I think he’s ready, Sugar Pop.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, then gasps when Joel bends over her and licks at her jaw, tugging her earlobe between his teeth. “You’re overdressed, J-One.”
And she bites her lip, coloring.
“Is this from your serial?” I ask as I hunt the lube in the drawer. “J-One and J-Two.” The fuck… I’m sure I left the lube right here last time.
Then again, I was a little distracted…
“Yeah.”
“A specific episode?” From the corner of my eye, I see her trail her hand down to Joel’s crotch and he lets out a long hiss.
She doesn’t reply to my question, and it strikes me that in her serial, it’s J-Two, aka me, who bones J-One, aka Joel, most of the time.
Holy shit.
The thought turns up the heat in my blood and I curse as the damn lube makes no appearance. Tonight of all nights. Fuck!
I stand up as Candy tugs Joel’s shirt off, and he helps her get rid of her tank top and pants. My gaze lingers on them, my mouth watering as they undress each other, aching to join them.
But I need to find lube, and since I’m the one in charge of that, I’m damn sure I don’t have a stash anywhere.
So fucking unprepared. The
stress of the past weeks is showing. I haven’t been able to think straight. And I don’t want to tell Joel and break the mood. There are substitutes to lube, right? There has to be something in the apartment I can use instead.
Think now, Jet. What can you use?
I take off my sweater and shirt as I wander out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. My quick search for baby oil fails, so I move on to the kitchen. Butter. Oil. Any of these should do, right?
The fridge is half-empty, which is weird. Then again, Joel hasn’t been himself lately, either, going from cooking for an army to cooking nothing and buying no food. So… no butter.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
Thank fuck, one of the cupboards coughs up a bottle of… flaxseed oil, apparently. Best oil for frying, says the label.
And for fucking, hopefully.
With my luck, by the time I’m back in the bedroom, the sex will be over and Joel and Candy will be fast asleep.
I really am a fucking pessimist, huh. But I shouldn’t have worried. Returning to the bedroom with my loot, I find my girl and my guy still sucking face and groping each other, only now Candy is on her back on the bed and Joel is half-sprawled over her, his tight ass on display, his white briefs molding to the round buns and leaving nothing to the imagination.
Not that I need to use my imagination. I’m a lucky bastard who’s seen Joel naked any number of times. Let me say right here that it’s a sight that never gets old. Take my word for it.
What I plan to do is drag down those damn briefs and work that fine ass, while he thrusts into Candy. Just the thought has my dick throbbing.
I get back on the bed and Joel lifts his head, his eyes dark, pupils blown to hell. “Come’ere,” he mutters and grabs my hand. “Where did you go?”
“Lube,” I say shortly, gasping when he pulls my thumb into his hot mouth and sucks on it. I feel it all the way to my dick.
Oh God. Blowjob by proxy. If thumbs could have orgasms…
Hurriedly, I pull my thumb free.
Candy props herself up on her elbows, her mouth reddened from Joel’s kisses. Her bra is gone and my dick starts dripping inside my pants at the sight of her pretty tits. She’s so damn sexy, sometimes I can’t believe she’s real.
Control, Jet.
I lean over her to taste her mouth, and she drags me down, kissing me back. Breaking the kiss is a struggle, but I have to, or I’ll end up being the one fucking her, and to hell with anything else.
And that’s not in the plans for tonight. Tonight it’s about Joel.
It could be the only time, the first and last time he allows this, and I need to do it.
Candy nods at me, giving me a faint smile as I sit back on my heels, and Joel bends over her again, kissing her.
Then he grabs her knees and spreads her legs wider. She’s taken off her panties and I catch a glimpse of her flushed pussy.
“Fuck,” Joel whispers reverently and I groan.
He glances at me, and that look, a mixture of raw need, apprehension and nerves has my dick swelling more.
With the sharp edge of desire I’m riding tonight, honed on fear and a bit of anger, I can’t control myself, no matter how I try. I grab his face and crush our lips together.
Not sure where the anger is coming from, to be honest. I guess that’s where my mind retreats when fear meets despair.
I kiss him long and good before I release his jaw, and I taste blood in his mouth. He hisses when I stroke his swollen cheek before drawing back.
Okay, maybe part of the anger is for his fucking dad, but hey, anger is anger, and it makes me reckless.
Like fear does. It’s a fine line.
I lick one last time at Joel’s mouth, sliding my hand lower, to his throat, cutting off his air for a moment, feeling him swallow against my palm. Seeing the blue in his eyes get sucked into black, feeling his strong body tremble.
Shit, it’s taking all I have not to push him facedown on the bed and get inside him here and now.
He reaches for my belt and unbuckles it. I hiss when he unzips my pants, yanking them down my thighs, and takes hold of my cock. My hand drops to his chest when he squeezes and tugs, my breath catching.
Candy sits up, too, to stroke my chest, pinch my nipples, and kiss my mouth. Joel joins in and we touch and tease and rub together until I can’t fucking take it anymore. Candy tugs Joel’s briefs down, freeing his dick, and we stroke it until he growls deep in his throat.
Enough games.
I guide Joel’s cock to Candy’s pussy, rubbing the flared head against her folds. She gasps and he groans, and it takes him two seconds to push inside her and lay her down on her back, his back curving over her as he starts to fuck her.
Good. That’s good. That’s… hell, that’s so damn hot I have to bite the inside of my cheek so hard I break the skin not to come as they rock together.
Need to hurry.
Quickly I pour oil in my hand and dribble some in the crack of Joel’s tight ass. He doesn’t seem to notice, focused on thrusting in and out of Candy’s heat, so I take advantage to slip a finger inside him.
He feels that, because he tenses, his ass clenching so hard around my finger it almost breaks my bones. “Jet.”
“You asked for it,” I say, more harshly than I intended, but hell, he begged for it. Still. “Changed your mind?”
A hesitation, then, “No.” And he pushes back, taking my finger deeper and moaning at the breach.
Drawing shaky breath after shaky breath, resisting the urge to jack off until I come, I add another finger, opening him up. It’s tricky, because he’s moving, his ass cheeks clenching every time he thrusts into Candy, and her breathless moans are distracting.
Instead, I use my other hand to tease his balls, rub the sensitive skin behind them, as I scissor my fingers, spreading him more.
Pulling my fingers out, I rub oil all over my dick until it’s slippery and glistening, and take another deep breath.
I won’t deny I’m damn nervous. This is Joel. He’s half of my world and if I don’t make it good for him, I’ll never live it down, plus this has been on my mind every night lately.
Doing Joel. Making him come with my cock.
Holy shit, my hands are shaking.
I sink into Joel and he lets out a long moan, his movements slowing. I push deeper, swearing viciously at the unbearable tightness and heat, and he produces another strangled moan that I’m not sure if to interpret as pleasure or pain.
Gripping his hips, gritting my teeth with the need to start thrusting, I wait for him to adjust, my dick pulsing in rhythm to my frantic heartbeat.
“Jet…” Joel’s voice is a strained, hoarse whisper. “Move.”
“Give it a sec, man, it’s—”
“Move, now! Fuck me.”
Christ, I don’t need to be told again. I pull out a little, slam back inside, and my eyes all but roll up in my head from the pleasure, the goddamn pressure. I do it again, and again, finding a rhythm, my hips rolling as Joel grunts something vaguely encouraging, and starts moving again, too.
Whoa.
Oh fuck, yes. Like this. Better… so much fucking better than I imagined it in my head. So much tighter, so much hotter. My stomach clenches, my balls draw up, sparks fly up my spine and I’m seeing stars.
Distantly, I know that having Joel inside me feels even better, satisfying a craving I can’t put into words, but man, this is… this is incredible, too.
And most of all, it means something. It means he trusts me, that he’s put himself and his precious control in my hands. It has to mean something, something important, and although I can’t figure it out right now, I feel it deep in my chest like a hot ember.
As I rock into Joel, he rocks into Candy who moans our names and grips Joel’s broad shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. His movements grow faster, the sounds he’s making wilder, hoarser, his breathing harsh and loud. He’s close.
And so am I.
“Make her… make her come
,” I grind out, hissing when he bends over her, changing the angle. “Oh fuck.”
Candy cries out, clawing at Joel’s back, and he clenches around my dick with a surprised shout.
He’s not the only one surprised. The pleasure slams into me like a wall, shocking a choked gasp from my throat.
Jesus F. Christ.
I come and come, drowning in the shockwaves of my release until I can’t breathe.
When the world returns, I’m slumped against Joel’s back, and he’s slumped over Candy. I know I have to move, but the effort seems too much.
Joel doesn’t give me a choice in the matter, though. He pulls away, and I groan as my spent, still semi-hard dick slips free.
He twists around, and I flail, struggling to catch my balance, grabbing at nothing not to fall off the bed—and right before I do, he grabs my arm and hauls me to his side.
With the wind totally knocked out of me, I blink the black dots from my vision as he hauls Candy to his other side and arranges us to his liking, our heads on his shoulders, his arms around us. I faintly wonder if his ass hurts, and why he hasn’t freaked out yet.
When I finally manage to focus on his face, it looks relaxed and a faint smile curves his lips.
Huh.
“You okay?” he asks, a question I should be the one asking, dammit. This was his first time, and I’m just lying here, mostly unresponsive, drooling on his shoulder.
I grunt, unable to use words, let alone formulate sentences.
Yep. Fun times.
“You okay, J?” Candy asks for me, thank God, and I brace for his reply.
He laughs. It’s a soft sound, and it rumbles a little through his chest. He’s fucking laughing, and I have no clue whether it’s a good or a very bad sign.
Then he says, “I’m better than okay.” His arm around me tightens as he leans in to kiss Candy, then turns toward me. “I’m not gonna freak out, Jet.”
Fuck, he’s turned into a mind-reader. “You’re not?”
“No. It was fucking good, it was what I wanted. What I needed.”
I can’t help but grin at that. “Fucking good, huh?”
“Fucker, it was awesome.” He finally dips his head enough to brush his lips over mine, and my eyes fall shut as relief swamps me.
