Bad Boyfriend

by K.A. Mitchell

  He settled for peeling away Eli’s pants and briefs, tossing off one shoe to get them off that leg, as Eli spat out, “Fucking hurry up already.”

  The first touch of Eli’s skin on Quinn’s dick shorted out what was left of Quinn’s brain function. He needed in. Now.

  He licked a thumb, shoving Eli’s legs apart with his knees. Eli’s bound hands came down and grabbed Quinn’s wrist. “Go fast and hard as you want, but not bare. Rubbers and lube in the box.” Eli jerked his chin at a plastic bin next to the bed.

  Quinn found what he needed. Even the shock of shame that burned his ears couldn’t slow him down.

  He managed a swipe of lube and his thumb pressed inside. Eli’s hoarse whispers matched the demand pulsing in Quinn’s balls and cock. Nownownownow.

  Hauling Eli forward, Quinn drove his dick hard against the tight hole. Quinn’s turn to beg. God, he needed to bury everything inside this boy—this man. Cock, fingers, tongue, soul.

  He ripped open Eli’s shirt, sending buttons flying and pinging around them, and bent to lick Eli’s neck. “C’mon, honey, let me in.”

  Eli’s spine rippled like a snake’s, and the muscle gave around the head of Quinn’s dick.

  “Go.” Eli’s eyes were screwed tightly shut, but his body pulsed again, opening, and Quinn shuddered as he drove forward.

  Deeper, deeper, his balls screamed, and Quinn got his shoulders under Eli’s knees. Eli slung his bound hands around Quinn’s neck, asking, pleading, “Harder,” and it still wasn’t enough. Something big was slipping out of Quinn’s control. Something stronger and more terrifying than the anger that had sent him chasing Eli into his apartment. Quinn should be the one with his hands bound. Should find something to hold him back because he couldn’t stop the deep thrusts against the sweet grip of Eli’s body. It wasn’t only an orgasm clawing out from inside him, fighting for freedom. As desperate as Quinn was to give in and fly with it, fear kept him holding on to that one last piece.

  Eli clung to him, opening mouth and body to everything spilling out of Quinn, to the thrust of his tongue and his cock, to the bruising grip Quinn had on his shoulders.

  Quinn raised his head to gasp for air, and Eli tightened the muscles riding Quinn’s dick.

  “More. Want it, Quinn. Want you.”

  It hit his blood like a burst of adrenaline, hot flood burning him clean, spilling into Eli as Quinn’s hips snapped hard, everything tearing free until he emptied himself inside Eli’s body, sweet shocks chasing through blood and nerves through the last spasms of release.

  He was going to pull out when Eli started pleading, “Don’t, please, jerk me off first. Please.”

  “Let me—”

  “No, like this. Now.”

  Quinn managed to get a hand between them, found the hot skin, so tight, so slick. Eli’s ass muscles pulsed and fluttered, and Quinn held his hips motionless to keep the condom in place.

  “Fuck. So close. Need… Shit… Need…” Eli panted, licking his lips.

  Quinn kissed him hard and rough and deep enough to feel the whine in the back of Eli’s throat. Fingers tight around the head of Eli’s dick, Quinn bit the skin under Eli’s ear then growled, “Come for me. Right now, boy. You’d better—”

  Eli’s ass clamped around Quinn’s dick, Eli’s body a tight grip on Quinn everywhere as the first warm splatter shot on their bellies. Quinn read the jerks of Eli’s body, the gasps from his open mouth, and kept his strokes firm until Eli started to soften. As Quinn brushed his thumb gently across the slick crown, Eli’s eyes popped open. They held a wary expression Quinn had to chase away.

  He eased out and stripped off the condom before bending to lick the salty puddle on Eli’s belly. The only soft spot on his slender wiry body, covered with a downy hair that rasped against Quinn’s tongue.

  Eli watched him, eyes glittering in the light from the street. His arms, wrists still bound by twisted silk, stretched over his head. The suit jacket and remains of a shirt were rumpled under his armpits. The sight made Quinn groan a gentle bite onto the skin under his tongue. He didn’t want to untie him, wanted the blood and the rush of arousal back so he could fuck Eli again, keep them both in this dizzy, bright, colorful world. A warning prickle on Quinn’s neck told him that as soon as he left Eli’s bed, Quinn would be shoved back into that flat beige world where he couldn’t fit anymore.

  He gave Eli’s dick a light kiss, then licked his way up his chest, before resting his head over the thud of Eli’s heart.

  “I’m all for a post-fuck cuddle.” Eli shifted. “But this is really uncomfortable.”

  Quinn lifted his head. “Sorry.”

  Eli shoved his hands at Quinn. The silk was damp, wrinkled thin, and parts of the skin underneath had been rubbed red. Quinn cradled Eli’s wrists in one hand, running a thumb across the slick fabric before freeing the end. When the tie fell away, Quinn kissed one of the red lines.

  “That’s not bothering me.” Eli shook his hands free and then yanked off the suit jacket and shirt. “God, I hated wearing that.” He tossed the clothes into a corner and flopped back onto the mattress.

  The tension bled out of the back of Quinn’s neck when he realized Eli wasn’t going to kick him out. The problem was all they’d done so far was sex and the weird shit with the family. Fuck if Quinn would let this slide away from him when he felt that kaleidoscope rush from something as simple as breathing in Eli’s skin.

  “Did you have a job interview?”

  “No.” Eli turned on his side, matching Quinn’s position, elbow cocked, hand supporting his head.

  “You dressed up for me.”

  Eli huffed a sigh. “I always dress up. But that was because you asked me to.”

  “What else would you do if I asked?”

  “In bed pretty much anything.” Eli’s teeth flashed as he grinned in the dark. Even that crooked one.

  Quinn wanted to kiss the smile into his own mouth. “Maybe you should give me a list. I wouldn’t want to miss anything.”

  “That’s too much work.” Eli twisted so that his back nestled into Quinn’s chest, ass wiggling up against Quinn’s cock.

  A hopeful pulse of want ached in Quinn’s balls, but nothing was happening for a while longer. “Speaking of which, did you actually lose your job?”

  Eli moved his hips away. Quinn tucked his bottom arm up and around Eli’s chest to keep him close.

  “Not exactly.” Eli shrugged in Quinn’s hold. “I’m not getting a regular paycheck anymore. I still work for the paper, only as a freelance photographer. I don’t go to the office except when they call me in for a project. Then they pay me.”

  It was on the tip of Quinn’s tongue to offer help, but he knew that would be an instant ticket home. “That sucks.”

  “It’s all right. More free time. What time do you have to leave for work? Another round would be nice.”

  “I’ll wake you up.”

  “Mmm.” Eli tucked his head back onto Quinn’s shoulder. “Depending on how much of a list you’ve got, we’re gonna need at least an hour.”

  Eli didn’t know where the fuck his pants—or more importantly his phone—had ended up, and the fact that he’d managed to fall asleep anyway was a sign of how easy it was to feel safe with Quinn around. Something Eli couldn’t get used to. Not with the hold Peter had on Quinn. But he could still have fun, make sure that when Quinn got sucked back in to all that useless family bullshit, he’d remember what he was missing.

  Quinn had shifted onto his stomach, one arm slung over Eli. He slipped out from under Quinn, then peeled the blanket and sheet away. With his eyes adjusted to the dark, Eli could see every inch of the sexy man in his bed. Quinn was hot, no doubt about it, solid lean muscle, dark hair, including a cute patch of it at the top of his ass that stopped where his spine dipped. A lot of territory to explore. Eli wanted to put little markers on him as he mapped him out, little spaces to claim. It wasn’t virgin territory, and Eli didn’t want it to be. The sexiest thing abou
t Quinn was what he did to Eli. The way Quinn made Eli feel. Like Eli was something magic, like pure sex called in to being. The way Quinn had looked at him tonight like Eli had the map to the oasis and Quinn was dying of thirst.

  If it didn’t make Eli feel so damned good, it would be scary enough to have him running.

  Quinn grunted and turned his head against the pillow. Right now Eli was going to show Quinn he didn’t need an asshole like Peter if Quinn wanted to get fucked.

  For him, Eli could give it a shot, throw Quinn on his back and fuck the shit out of him. Make him feel as good as he made Eli feel. It wasn’t that he hadn’t ever. Just that he liked getting fucked so much more. Quinn was worth trying it out again.

  Eli settled his body on top of Quinn, earning a satisfied sigh in response. Yeah, Eli could do this. He moved his thumbs down the sides of Quinn’s spine, stroke firm enough to keep from tickling. When he hit that patch of hair, he got his tongue involved, running the point down the crack of Quinn’s ass. The muscles in the cheeks tensed and relaxed, and Quinn’s legs dropped open. Okay, Eli was committed now. He took a deep breath, the sweaty male smell close to what he’d tasted of Quinn so far, then used his thumbs to hold Quinn open for more serious licking. The flat of his tongue produced some sounds that Eli only heard as vibrations, but as he licked and kissed, Quinn started gasping and moving his hips. Eli’d always thought rimming was a lot more fun to get than to give, but wanting to do this to Quinn, prove that Eli could be this for Quinn, was a lot hotter than only offering on the chance he’d get his ass licked in return.

  Eli fluttered his tongue on the hole, on the tight skin underneath, and Quinn let out a gasp Eli could hear. He smiled and worked a finger in next to his tongue, slicking and wetting and pushing until Quinn said, “What are you doing?”

  Eli moved the tip of his finger inside and licked around it before raising his head. “That doesn’t really need an answer.”

  “Okay. Why are you doing that?” Quinn pushed up onto his knees. “You want to fuck me, Eli?”

  Fuck me, he’s big. And powerful. And getting fucked was exactly what Eli wanted. Loved taking all that power inside him. But that wasn’t the plan. “Don’t think I can?”

  Quinn’s voice was soft. “Never got the impression you wanted to.” He reached back and caught Eli’s wrist. “What’s going on?”

  “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  “I want to know why you suddenly think you have to.” Quinn turned. He smiled, reaching for Eli’s balls, stroking them in a way that had Eli pushing his hips out for more.

  Quinn gave it to him, a sweet tug. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.” Abruptly, Quinn sat back on his heels, hands on his thighs. “Christ. Peter. What did he say to you?”

  “Why should I tell you? You won’t believe me anyway.”

  “I know he did something.”

  “But you can’t believe a guy like him would hit on a guy like me.” Eli rolled off the mattress, wishing there was space in the room to pace. This was why he didn’t like bringing guys here. Not out of consideration for his three roommates. Guys were harder to get away from in your own bed. And now he wasn’t even going to get off. “God, can we save this for when we’re not half hard?”

  “No.” Quinn pulled Eli back onto the mattress, pinning him under the weight of his body. “That’s our problem.”

  “We don’t have a problem, Quinn. You have a problem. You’re hung up on Peter.” Eli shifted so that his dick rode the cut of Quinn’s hip instead of being squashed by his thigh.

  “The problem is,” Quinn said, like Eli hadn’t just explained it to him, “we’re always half hard around each other.”

  “I see that as a good thing.” Eli rocked up.

  “It is. But it means we’re doing this backward.”

  “So you do want me to fuck you.” Eli stopped rocking.

  “I mean, we haven’t had a chance to get to know each other. Most of what I know about you comes from the stories you were giving the Laurents.”

  “And that means I have to be lying about Peter.”

  “I didn’t say that. Tell me what happened.”

  “At the house or at Grand Central?”

  Quinn frowned, his muscles rigid. “The house.”

  “I went out on the porch because the cigar was disgusting. Peter followed me. I asked if he was offering another blowjob like he did at Grand Central—”

  “I thought you said he hit on you.”

  Eli flicked a finger against Quinn’s ear. “Are these on? He offered the blowjob.”

  “But not at the house.”

  “Get off me, Quinn. I swear you two fucking deserve each other.”

  “Wait. I’m trying to follow this.”

  It burst out of Eli, no calculation, no aim. He slammed the heels of his hands on Quinn’s shoulders. Breath whooshed out of their chests as Eli twisted and rolled and dumped them onto the floor. He glared down into Quinn’s surprised face. How could anyone be this stupid? Eli hated being right all the time. The hottest sex in the world wasn’t worth dealing with how blind this guy was. And Eli still opened his mouth to explain it to him.

  “What can’t you follow? He fucked around on you. He left you. For a woman. He killed your dog. Now he fucks around on his wife and shoves it in your face because the whole damned family’s got you by the balls. And I don’t know why I give a flying fuck, but I can’t watch it anymore. Now get out of my life.” Eli rolled off, panting.

  Quinn sat up. “Christ, what an arrogant little shit you are.” He loomed over him, jaw hard, lips thin. “If you weren’t in the middle of a tantrum, maybe you could understand how much crap just came flying at my head.”

  “Just now? Quinn, that baby didn’t spring out of thin air. It’s been a year.”

  “Shut up for a second. If that’s possible. Maybe what I was trying to follow was how I could have lived with him for ten years and not seen him. Maybe what I was trying to understand was why a guy who claimed to be straight except for me is chasing dick all of a sudden.” Quinn’s hands shot out to capture Eli’s face. His grip was solid, voice a harsh whisper. “But none of that fucking matters because I can’t stop being pissed about you going to Grand Central when I want you for myself.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Like as your boyfriend?” Eli tried to swallow his shock, but his throat stuck on the adrenaline-hard slam of his heart. Quinn wasn’t lying, wasn’t trying to charm his way out of the knee Eli had been planning to relocate his sac with. Quinn was by turns adorably vulnerable and a sexy top, but he couldn’t quite pull off charm.

  “That’s flattering.” Eli pasted on a smile, then leaned back so that Quinn came with him. “I know I’m awesome in bed, but you met me what? Three days ago?”

  “Five. Which is why you should go on a date with me.”

  “A date. Like straight people.”

  “You’re saying we can’t date because straight people do?”

  That wasn’t what he’d meant. Eli wasn’t completely heterophobic, but there were just so many examples of straight assholes to choose from. Like his own egg and sperm donors. His sister. Kellan’s dad. Marcy.

  Still, Kellan and Nate did stuff together all the time that wasn’t fucking. And they had that Date Night thing that Eli usually heard as leave us alone so we can stare into each other’s eyes for a while before we fuck like bunnies.

  “So dinner and a movie?” Eli said.

  Quinn shook his head. “We can’t talk during a movie.” He ran a finger over Eli’s lips. “And I think watching you eat might get us back to horizontal too soon.”

  “I like horizontal.”

  “I do too.” Quinn kissed him, long and deep, but it was the stroke of Quinn’s hips that had Eli in a more receptive frame of mind. “But horizontal is not the main point of a date.”

  “It can be there at the end though. You’re going to put out, right?”

  “Is that a yes?”

  When I want y
ou for myself. Of course the only guy who’d ever asked had to be unavailable. If Eli ever did get a real boyfriend, it might not be a bad idea to have tried out the dating thing, although it seemed stupid. They clicked in bed, what else was there to know? Obviously, it wasn’t going to be some big love thing. Even if Quinn wasn’t hung up on his ex, he’d never looked at Eli the way Kellan and Nate looked at each other. Most of what Eli got from Quinn was a reluctant amusement, like he couldn’t believe he was putting up with Eli’s bullshit, but the sex made up for it. That was the same way Eli felt about Quinn and his family crap, so they were even.

  “Depends. What are we going to do?” Eli tried to suggest something now by lifting his legs up around Quinn’s hips.

  “Get to know each other.”

  “I don’t get why that should matter. Even if we lived together it doesn’t mean we have to like the same stuff on our pizza.”

  Quinn was giving him that smile, the it’s-a-good-thing-you’re-so-fuckable look. It should have earned him a nipple pinch, but Eli’s stomach got the same melting warmth it did after a long, sweet come. Being fuckable was something Eli aspired to every second of the day.

  “All right,” Eli said. “Where are we going?”

  “Can it be a surprise?”

  “Like you dragging me to a Catholic church? I need to know what to wear.”

  Quinn stared down for a minute, like he was running through a dozen dating scenarios in his mind, trying to fit Eli into one.

  “Bowling,” Quinn said at last.

  “Bowling? Rented shoes and hanging with old ladies named Verna and Flo? That should take sex out of the equation all right.”

  “Is that a yes?” Quinn asked again, this time with the smile he always used with Eli. There was something mischievous about it now. Like he was up to no good and wanted Eli to join him. Maybe there was a place that did naked bowling. Then Eli thought of someone named Verna naked and shuddered.

  “Who pays?”

  “Me, since I asked.”