Seeking Solace

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Seeking Solace Page 9

by Ari McKay


  Devin’s heart rate sped up. “Care to elaborate?” The rest of the people around them seemed to recede as Devin looked into Paul’s eyes and saw the heat in them.

  “I’d rather show you than tell you, but if you want a hint….” Paul leaned in and whispered in Devin’s ear, “I want to feel your fingers grabbing my hair when I’m on my knees, sucking you.”

  The sound that escaped Devin’s lips was part moan, part gasp, as he easily pictured Paul kneeling in front of him, his mouth on Devin’s cock. The slow burn became a bright flame, and he licked suddenly dry lips. “That sounds good. Really good.” Not to be outdone, he moved his hands to Paul’s ass and squeezed. “If you suck me off, you’ll have to fuck me. I would insist.”

  Paul nipped Devin’s earlobe, then drew back and gazed at Devin intently. “As long as you return the favor,” he said. “I like being fucked too.”

  The thought of being buried in Paul’s ass almost caused Devin to stumble. “I’m flexible,” he said. “Whatever you want, Paul. Anything I can give you, I will. I want to.”

  A little smirk curved Paul’s lips as he raised a challenging eyebrow. “When?”

  “Now.” Devin stopped in place and grabbed Paul’s hand. “If Cass doesn’t have an available room, we’ll figure something out. How does that sound?”

  “You mean stay on the island overnight?” Paul looked surprised, but then he nodded. “I like that idea. We won’t have to worry about being seen in a less than professional situation.”

  “At the moment, my job is the last thing on my mind,” Devin admitted. He started back toward the patio, holding Paul’s hand and paying no attention to anything else. It was all he could do to keep from running, more eager than he had been in a long time. But he knew his face was flushed, and Paul was actually blushing, but he looked as eager as Devin felt.

  They moved through the restaurant, and Devin stopped when he reached Cass. “Hey, um… do you happen to have a vacancy tonight?” he asked, trying to play it cool.

  Cass, however, knew Devin pretty well, and in all the times he’d come to see her, he’d never brought anyone else. She chuckled, not showing the least bit of surprise.

  “Conveniently enough, I do,” she said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “When you went down to the beach, I told Jamal I thought you might be staying, and he brought me a key.”

  She pulled an old-fashioned room key out of her pocket and handed it to Devin with a wink. “Oh, and before you go….” She reached under the hostess stand, pulled out a small paper bag, and held it out to Paul. “I noticed you didn’t have overnight bags, gentlemen. Courtesy of the house, since Devin covered my shifts more than once when Jamal and I… well.” She gestured to her rounded belly. “Have fun. See you in the morning!”

  Devin didn’t know whether to laugh, give her a hug, or throttle her, so he settled on kissing her cheek, grateful his friend was so observant. “Thanks. I owe you.”

  “Nah, now we’re even,” she replied, then gave Paul a wink. “You’re the first man he’s ever brought here. I had a feeling it meant something special.”

  Paul glanced at Devin, but his expression didn’t give away his thoughts. “It very well might,” he said, turning his attention back to Cass.

  “Go on, then, have fun,” she said with an amusingly maternal smile. “Checkout is at eleven, so you should get back to the dock in plenty of time.” She made a shooing motion toward the stairs that led up to the hotel rooms above the restaurant.

  Devin squeezed Paul’s hand. “Ready?” he asked. “No second thoughts?”

  “No.” Paul twined his fingers with Devin’s and offered a reassuring smile. “I trust you, and I want this.”

  “So do I,” Devin replied, leaning in to give Paul’s lips a swift but firm kiss. “Let’s go.”

  With that, he led Paul up the stairs, eager to find out just how high the flames between them would burn.

  Chapter Seven

  PAUL followed Devin up to the room, his heart thumping hard enough that the sound of music and people’s voices were drowned out. He felt as if he’d gone into autopilot mode, his mind buzzing with static as he tried to process what was happening.

  They found the room easily, and Devin unlocked the door and flipped the light switch. Once they were both inside, Paul leaned against the closed door and stared at Devin. What had seemed like a fantastic idea on the beach when he was still under the influence of the bonfire, slow music, and rum punch seemed more unnerving now that he was faced with the reality of having sex—of baring himself to someone for the first time in over a year. Someone he hadn’t even known a full week yet.

  He trusted Devin, and he did want this, but a frozen knot of fear was wedged in his chest, one that had formed the day Jack moved out and had been reinforced by the awful dates that followed. Devin seemed to believe he wouldn’t be affected by Paul’s scarred body and missing limb, but what if Devin had overestimated what he could handle? What if all of Devin’s reassurances turned hollow when Devin saw how disfigured he was? As much as he wanted to believe Devin would be different from Jack and the other men he’d dated, bitter experience kept him from it.

  But while bolting from the room was an option, Paul didn’t want to give in to fear. The night might end as badly as his previous post-accident dates, but the small, lonely optimist in him was hopeful it wouldn’t, and so he stayed.

  Paul licked his dry lips. “What now?”

  Smiling, Devin stepped closer and stroked Paul’s cheek tenderly. There was heat in his dark eyes, but the smile curving his lips was gentle and understanding. “Now I make you feel good, and you make me feel good. Would you like me to strip for you? I have no problem baring myself if it will make you feel more comfortable.”

  “I’d like that,” Paul said, nuzzling his cheek against Devin’s warm palm. Devin seemed willing to go slow, and Paul was grateful.

  “All right.” Devin leaned in to claim a brief, soft kiss, then stepped back. “Why don’t you go sit on the bed?” He chuckled. “Well, they managed to cram a king-size in the room. Good for us, as tall as we both are, eh?”

  Paul glanced around the room as he moved to the bed, which was covered by a colorful quilt, and he snorted quietly when he recognized the wedding ring pattern on it. The furniture was minimal—a bed, nightstand, and a dresser—but the room was spotless, and the decor was enhanced by a matched pair of paintings that depicted scenes from the market he and Devin had visited.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and then held up the bag Cass had given him. “Should we open this now, do you think?”

  “If you like,” Devin replied. He took off his shoes, then bent to place them neatly near the door. “If I know Cass, it’s probably useful.”

  The bag itself was plain white, and its contents were obscured by red tissue paper. Paul pulled it out and wadded it up, and he decided to show off a little by tossing it into the small trash can by the dresser.

  “And now you see why I was on the varsity team,” he said when the ball of tissue paper landed in the trash can.

  “Bravo! That’s your first score of the night, but it certainly won’t be your last.”

  Paul chuckled as he turned his attention back to the bag and pulled out its contents. “We have a couple of toothbrushes, toothpaste, and….” He held up a small box of condoms and a travel-sized bottle of lube. “Okay, you weren’t kidding when you said it would be useful.”

  “She’s a doll,” Devin said, grinning widely. He fingered the first button on his tropical shirt. “Are you ready for a show? And I don’t mean juggling beer bottles.”

  Paul put the bag and its contents on the nightstand. “Go ahead, show me your other skills,” he said, leaning back on his hands. The mattress was firm and supportive, so even though the bed might provide a challenge for two tall men, it wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

  “Well, some of my other skills,” Devin replied with a wink. The steel drums were audible from the window that f
aced the beach, and Devin easily caught the island rhythm. He rolled his hips as he unfastened the shirt buttons, going slowly and teasing Paul with glimpses of bronze skin. When he’d dealt with the final button, he shrugged off the shirt, baring his sleekly toned upper body to Paul’s gaze.

  Paul drank in the sight of Devin’s lean body and smooth skin. He could see the wiry strength in Devin’s arms and the enticing ripple of muscle in Devin’s abdomen. He wanted to touch, but he wanted to see more as well, so he held still and swallowed against the dryness in his mouth.

  “Best show of the cruise so far,” he said huskily.

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Devin said, smiling wickedly. He had the barest hint of a treasure trail that disappeared into his white cotton pants, and as he rolled his hips, he unfastened the top button, then slowly lowered the zipper. “You’ve got a naughty streak. I like that.”

  Paul thought about some of the antics he’d gotten up to with Jack and other lovers before the accident, and he realized he missed that side of himself, the one that wasn’t always serious and focused on work.

  “I used to,” he said. “A pretty wide one, actually.”

  “Feel free to be as naughty with me as you’d like,” Devin said. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, then lowered them. He was still moving his hips in time to the music, and he moved closer to Paul as he eased the pants down, until they fell into a pool at his feet. Now Devin was clad only in stretchy gray boxer briefs that molded to his hips and hid nothing of his arousal. His long legs were as tanned and toned as his chest, and he turned, presenting his backside to Paul and smiling playfully over his shoulder. His long, dark hair fell almost to his waist, but as he looked at Paul, Paul could see a tattoo on Devin’s left shoulder. A realistic raven was depicted in flight, wings spread and talons out as though it were about to land or perhaps grab at prey.

  Paul tore himself away from ogling Devin’s ass to inspect the tattoo. He’d always been fascinated by body art, even though he hadn’t gotten any tattoos or piercings himself. He’d thought about it, but his father didn’t think it was professional, especially for a CEO.

  “Is there a story behind your tattoo?”

  “Raven is my spirit animal,” Devin said. “My mother said she saw flock of them on the way to the hospital the day I was born. I’ve always liked them, so that’s what I chose when I decided to get a tattoo for my twenty-first birthday.”

  “The detail is amazing,” Paul said. “I like it. It suits you.”

  “Thank you.” Devin smiled, then turned back around. “Should I keep going? Or would you like to unwrap my package yourself?”

  Paul’s gaze strayed to Devin’s cock, so clearly outlined by the stretchy material of his boxer briefs, and Paul ached with the need to touch Devin at last.

  “I want to do it,” he said, reaching out to Devin with both hands.

  Devin sifted his fingers through Paul’s hair. “You can have anything you want.”

  Paul closed his eyes briefly, savoring the feel of Devin’s fingers in his hair. It had been so long since he’d enjoyed such simple intimacies, and he’d missed them more than he realized.

  “Good to know,” he said, sliding his arms around Devin’s waist and pulling him closer. “What I want right now is this.” Paul leaned against Devin and nuzzled his cheek against Devin’s warm, bare skin, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and clean male. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he gave in to his long-suppressed need for closeness and contact.

  Devin continued stroking Paul’s hair. “So are you,” he said. “I’ve met hundreds of men on the Pearl in the past six months, and you’re the only one who has tempted me. The only one who makes me want to bare myself and beg you to take me.”

  Paul tilted his head back so he could look up at Devin, surprised by that revelation. “I don’t understand why,” he said, sliding his fingers under the waistband of Devin’s boxer briefs. “But I won’t question my good luck.”

  “I consider it my good luck too,” Devin replied. He drew in a breath as Paul’s fingers brushed his skin. “I’m choosy. It runs in the family.”

  “Does it?” Paul pushed the boxer briefs down by sliding his palms along the firm curve of Devin’s ass, ending with a playful grope. “Lucky me.”

  Devin wriggled against Paul’s hands and grinned. “Oh, you’ll get lucky, if I have anything to say about it,” he drawled. Then he slid his underwear farther down, baring his cock to Paul’s sight. “And so will I.”

  “You’re right,” Paul said, unable to resist the need to touch. He curled his fingers around Devin’s cock and brushed his thumb back and forth across the tip. “On both counts,” he added, smiling wickedly.

  Devin gasped and grabbed Paul’s shoulders, holding on as though Paul’s touch was making him unsteady. “Oh, God… that feels good.”

  Holding Devin’s gaze, Paul brought his thumb to his lips and licked it. “You taste good. I want more,” he said, and then he leaned in and drew Devin’s cock into his mouth, wanting to make Devin moan, to give him pleasure, to see him lost in ecstasy.

  “You’re going to kill me,” Devin moaned. A flush rose on his skin, and he began to breathe harder, his grip on Paul tightening as a shudder ran through his body.

  That’s the idea, Paul thought, but he didn’t want to give up Devin’s cock long enough to voice the thought aloud. He hadn’t forgotten all his old blowjob skills, and he used every trick he knew to drive Devin to the edge—tonguing the underside, humming, teasing Devin’s balls—before backing off. As much as he hoped he would get to do this again, he didn’t want to miss his chance to enjoy Devin as thoroughly as possible in case he didn’t.

  It was obvious Devin was holding back, as though also reluctant for things to end too quickly. He drew in another deep breath, and gazed down at Paul with a look of dazed pleasure. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

  “I’ll be glad to teach you and let you practice too,” Paul said, squeezing Devin’s hips gently. “Do you want more?”

  “Of course I want more, but I want to give you pleasure too,” Devin replied. He caressed Paul’s cheek. “I want to make you feel good. I want to see you lost in pleasure and know it’s because of me.”

  The words made Paul’s heart cry out with longing, even though he knew it was foolish. He gazed up at Devin, and when he spoke, his voice was low and husky. “What do you want right now?”

  “I want to touch you all over,” Devin said. “I want to stroke you and taste your skin. I want to find all the places that make you beg for more.”

  And there it was. The moment Paul had dreaded and probably on some level had been trying to delay. But he couldn’t avoid it any longer short of walking out, which he didn’t want to do. He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to calm his nerves.

  “Okay,” he said. “Go ahead. I’ll let you.”

  Devin leaned down to brush his lips to Paul’s forehead. “Thank you. You can trust me, Paul. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  Paul wanted to believe Devin—wanted to trust again—and that motivated him to pull his polo shirt over his head and toss it aside. As soon as it was off, he felt exposed and vulnerable even though his upper body wasn’t as scarred. A couple of scars snaked up from beneath the waistband of his khaki pants, and his skin was pale from lack of sun. He used to be tan almost all over from spending so much time outside.

  “Step one,” he said, trying to sound much lighter than he felt.

  But despite his fears, there was nothing save admiration in Devin’s dark eyes, and he drew in a breath as he trailed his hands downward, stroking Paul’s neck and shoulders. “I like what I see,” he said huskily. Holding Paul’s gaze, he knelt in front of Paul with a wicked smile. Then he closed his lips over one of Paul’s nipples and sucked lightly.

  Paul clutched Devin’s shoulders, a soft hiss of pleasure escaping him. “Feels good,” he murmured.

&n
bsp; Devin’s hum of acknowledgment vibrated against Paul’s skin, and then Devin gave equal attention to his other nipple. Devin put his hands on Paul’s thighs, stroking him through the fabric of his khakis, before sliding them up higher, wrapping his arms around Paul and skimming his nails lightly down the skin of Paul’s back. Paul arched against Devin’s hands, seeking more. He hadn’t enjoyed the luxury of skin on skin for so long, and now his body was waking up and realizing how touch-starved it was.

  Devin caressed Paul, alternating strokes of his palms with the sharper sensation of his nails. Then he caught Paul’s nipple between his teeth and tugged before laving it with his tongue.

  “You can be a little rough if you want,” Paul said, tightening his grip on Devin’s shoulders. “I like it.”

  “Mm… good. So do I,” Devin murmured against Paul’s skin, before taking Paul’s invitation. With a low growl, he bit down harder on the firm peak and worried it between his teeth.

  Paul cried out as arousal flared higher and hotter, and he wound his arms around Devin, wanting to feel the warmth and solid weight of Devin’s body so he could assure himself this was real.

  Devin kept up the torment for a while, then moved down Paul’s body, blazing a trail with lips and tongue and teeth over his torso. When he reached the waistband of Paul’s khakis, he looked up, his face flushed and eyes dark with desire. “I want to taste you.”

  Icy fear clenched around Paul’s stomach. What if Devin was turned off by what he saw? But Paul’s body was thrumming with need, and he could hear his therapist saying he had to start trusting people again. Swallowing hard, he nodded.

  Devin stroked Paul’s cheek again, the gesture one of comfort. “Everything will be fine, I promise,” he said. “Let me show you how to feel good again. Do you want me to leave your pants on? Will that make you feel more comfortable?”

  Devin’s thoughtfulness nearly brought tears to Paul’s eyes, and his anxiety faded a little. Devin was being so careful and considerate, and Paul wanted to do something to show how much that was helping. He wanted to be brave, to take a risk. He wanted to fling caution aside and trust Devin because he was so tired of being trapped by fear.

 

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