Bad Boyfriend

by K.A. Mitchell

  “Not often enough. I know the prices are steep, but the food’s worth it.”

  Quinn glanced down. The burgers hovered around ten to twelve dollars, but that wasn’t what he’d wanted to say. “I meant—”

  “Oh? Silver?” Eli glanced over at the host. “We both like to dance.” He grinned. “Are you the jealous type?”

  Any chance of a comeback vanished as Eli leaned across the booth. Unlike what he’d given Silver, Eli’s kiss for Quinn was deliberate, thorough. No one paid them any attention.

  “Just so you know.” Eli sank back into his seat. “I am.” He tapped his menu. “I’m getting number four. Mushrooms and jack cheese. They put butter on the buns too.” Eli’s eyes closed in an imitation of ecstasy.

  Quinn told his dick to calm down. It had to eventually. He wasn’t going to spring wood every time he caught a glimpse of the one crooked tooth when Eli smiled or opened that smart, pretty mouth.

  Eli’s gaze went to the door. “Fuck me.” Eli breathed it like a curse rather than the invitation Quinn was trying to get his dick to stop thinking about long enough to get them fed.

  Eli held up his menu as a shield. “Unlike your friends at the bowling alley, this was not part of my plan. Ignore them and they’ll go away.”

  Quinn looked up as the two men stopped at their table. Nate, the dark-haired obnoxious one with glasses, and the more affable one with the wide smile whose name Quinn kept forgetting.

  “Going to introduce us?” Nate said with a sneer.

  Eli had been nice to Quinn’s friends. Quinn could do the same. “Hi. We’ve met. Quinn.”

  “Mind if we join you.” Nate didn’t make it a question.

  “Yes,” Eli said, but Quinn got up from his side of the booth and slid in next to Eli.

  “Remember that whole being-ignored thing I hate?” Eli muttered in his ear.

  Quinn rubbed a hand along Eli’s thigh and whispered back, “Does it feel like I’m ignoring you?”

  “It’s not fair to take advantage of a guy who’s easily led by his dick.” Eli shoved up into Quinn’s hand.

  “Well, it was nice seeing you…” the taller one tugged at Nate’s arm, “…but I think we’re going to—never mind.” The blond broke off with a sigh when Nate slammed down into the booth.

  “Fuck me, they’re still here.” Eli kept his lips close to Quinn’s throat.

  “Later,” Quinn promised, backing it up with his hand on Eli’s inseam.

  Eli moved away. “I think I should have gotten the outside of the booth.”

  “Just because it’s not a life-or-death situation now, doesn’t mean it won’t be.” Quinn turned toward him. “Think of how much better I’d be at blocking any threats from the zombie apocalypse while you get weapons together.”

  A snort burst from Eli’s lips, and Nate’s new boyfriend echoed the laugh with a chuckle.

  “It’s a good thing I’ve got your carcass to protect me then.” Nate pulled his boyfriend down into the booth, then yanked the menu from under Eli’s folded arms.

  “Sorry, you guys.” The blond pulled the cardboard out of Nate’s hands and handed it back to Eli. “You know how he gets about his toys.”

  “And Eli is his toy.” Quinn straightened up, glaring at Nate’s smug expression.

  “I didn’t mean it exactly like that.” The boyfriend blushed.

  Eli put a hand on Quinn’s arm. “Besides, Nate got tired of playing with me a long time ago. Ignore him. I usually do.” Eli’s voice had taken on that singsong quality he’d used when he was showing off for the family—for Quinn’s friends. Was he like that around everyone but Quinn?

  Quinn kept watching Nate, until he realized Eli was playing footsie with the blond—Kellan, that was it—under the table. When the waiter took their order, Quinn stuck a leg out to disrupt it.

  The wide mouth curved in a sheepish grin. “Sorry, man.” Kellan cocked his head at Quinn. “So what’s it like dating Mr. Wright?”

  Eli glared. “How long have you been saving that one up?”

  “A year.” Kellan’s grin was completely unapologetic.

  “Mr. Wright, huh?” It had never occurred to Quinn to wonder what Eli’s last name was. When Eli had flashed his license, he’d been more interested in proof of age. “That’s pretty good.”

  “Shut up,” Eli snapped.

  The waiter came over with a tray holding their drinks, and Eli’s face took on a smirk that promised retribution for them all. “Kellan and Nate’s dad used to work for KZ,” Eli explained as the waiter distributed four cold bottles of the local cola. Quinn had followed Eli’s lead and ordered the black cherry, which had provoked a laugh from Kellan. “And now Kellan’s dad runs Brooks Blast Energy Drinks.”

  Alyssa had said something like that at the baptism. Something about Kellan being cut off.

  “Old news.” Kellan waved him off.

  Eli persisted, as if he had a point to make. “Yeah, but what everybody doesn’t know is that Kellan is my hero. His father cuts all these big checks for all the anti-marriage assholes, and when he tried to pay Kellan off to stay in the closet, Kellan turned down half a million.”

  Kellan and Nate were in the middle of some kind of private joke that involved a tally, so Quinn was free to concentrate on Eli—on the lesson Eli had carefully laid out for him. The big blinking neon made it kind of obvious. Quinn would never measure up against that kind of hero-worship while he was playing nice with the Laurents. And as long as Eli had Kellan as an example, Eli would never see it any other way.

  Eli shoved against Quinn. “Let me out.”

  “I thought we settled the inside-outside thing.”

  “Your control issues are all good, sailor, but I have to pee. I know you’ll all enjoy talking about me while I’m gone.”

  When Quinn stood to let him out, Eli leaned forward and grabbed Nate’s jacket, dragging him close enough to whisper something at him.

  With a wave of his hand and shake of his hips, Eli was gone.

  “So what is your problem?” Quinn didn’t bother sitting back down.

  Nate gave it back with equal directness. “I don’t like Eli dating someone old enough to be his father.”

  “Bullshit.” Quinn glared down at him. “This is about you and your…toys.”

  Kellan bit his bottom lip as if fighting a laugh.

  “He’s not a toy.” Nate leaned across the table. “But if you actually knew anything about him, you’d know—”

  “You’re the one who doesn’t know anything about him.” It was clear they only knew all-drama, flirt-with-traffic-lights-for-blinking-at-him parts of Eli.

  “You didn’t even know his last name until five minutes ago,” Nate said. “If you knew what I can’t tell you on pain of…” he glanced down at his crotch, “…pain, you’d see why this is such a bad thing for him. He needs a chance to hang out with people his own age and figure out what he wants.”

  “If you know him as well as you think you do, you know Eli’s perfectly capable of telling me to go to hell if that’s what he wants.”

  “The problem is he doesn’t know what he wants.”

  “Have you ever asked him?” Quinn dropped back into the booth. “As someone much older, let me tell you what I see. You love the way he looks up to you—both of you. You treat him like a pet, keep him hanging around for whatever affection you can spare.”

  “That’s—” Nate shut his mouth in a sudden grimace that had Quinn convinced Kellan had stomped on his foot.

  “Get a puppy if that’s what you need, but stop pretending Eli can’t function without you telling him who or what he wants.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  For someone who’d spent his prime dating years trying to make sure he had a reasonably safe place to sleep at night, Eli thought he was getting the hang of this dating thing. Quinn was fun even when he wasn’t playing toppy Daddy in bed. And provided Nate kept his mouth shut, Quinn would never know that although most of the time Eli managed to s
tay with friends during that last year, there’d been times when getting blown or fucked by someone who’d give him a place to crash and feed him hadn’t been a bad exchange. It wasn’t like Eli had ever felt desperate enough to take an offer from a guy who was really disgusting.

  Nate would keep all that to himself. He might be a self-righteous prick, but he could be counted on to not spill secrets. If this thing with Quinn was worth working at, Eli didn’t want Quinn giving him that pity look Nate got most of the time.

  Kellan saw Eli coming and everything at the table got quiet.

  “So what did I miss?” Give Eli nice-date bonus points, he let Quinn tuck him into the inside of the booth again.

  “They whipped out their…measuring sticks,” Kellan said.

  “I figured that. Who won?”

  “Me, like always.” Kellan smacked his boyfriend’s shoulder, but while Nate was distracted by checking to be sure the kitchen hadn’t tried to sneak in a beef patty instead of the veggie burger he’d so sanctimoniously ordered, Kellan tipped his head at Quinn and flashed Eli a wink to let him know Quinn had come out on top.

  When it was time to go, Kellan lifted Eli in a big hug. “I really like him. And he’s crazy about you.”

  Nate gave Eli a very deliberate kiss on the mouth and said, “Be careful.”

  As they walked back to the car, Eli’s stomach forgot he’d inhaled all that greasy goodness ten minutes ago, feeling empty of everything but nerves. This was the part of the date he’d been looking forward to. The part he knew they’d get right. So why the terrified anticipation of a virgin about to get fisted?

  “Where to now?” Quinn said as he unlocked the car.

  “I thought—” Right. Eli had won the bet. Everything was up to him. It should have made him relax, but instead he babbled, waving his hands for emphasis, “Well, I was going to suggest my place so we could really curl that bitch Marcy’s hair, but let’s go to your house. You remember you promised to fuck me if I went out with you.”

  “Something like that. But you won the bet.”

  “I think you let me win.”

  “Or maybe I’m a terrible bowler.”

  The pulse of arousal in Eli’s groin was still doing battle with the anxious dip and swirl in his stomach when they climbed the stairs in Quinn’s house. It wasn’t as if Eli didn’t want to fuck, but everything felt different with all this lead up. How was he supposed to make sure there wasn’t a let down? Dating had its drawbacks.

  Quinn glanced over as Eli played with the buttons on his shirt.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I’m feeling a lot of pressure to be awesome.”

  Quinn stepped over and kissed him. “You already are.” His lips drifted over Eli’s again, a question and an affirmation. When Quinn started on the buttons of Eli’s shirt, Eli put his hands up to help. “I promise to be careful with this one. You look hot in it. Where did you find it?”

  “The shirt was in a used-clothes store, but I glued on the piping and my name.”

  Quinn’s kiss had a little more urgency as the shirt fell away, lips parted, breath fast. A tongue on the side of Eli’s neck made him slip away before he turned into a puddle at Quinn’s feet. After fishing supplies from his pockets, Eli kicked away his jeans and briefs.

  Quinn yanked off his shirt, but when his hands went to his belt, Eli stopped him, leading him to stand by the bed. “Still on my bet, right?”

  “Sure.” Quinn ran his hand over Eli’s hair as he crouched on the bed. “I think I remember this position.”

  “Not quite.” Eli unhooked Quinn’s belt and opened his fly to pull his cock out. The satiny skin pulsed and tightened as he stroked. He ran first his finger then his tongue down the thickest vein, flicked his tongue under the head. Fucking beautiful cock, stretching and aching for him. He caressed it with his hair, his hands, his cheek. Wanted it down his throat and up his ass just like that, bare skin and the pump of fluid from Quinn’s balls. But since they couldn’t have that…

  Eli snapped open the mini pack of warming lube he’d brought and used his thumb to coat the soft, slick flesh on the head of Quinn’s dick. He stroked it down the shaft and Quinn gasped. “I want it to feel hot like my mouth,” Eli explained.

  “I don’t need it to be like your mouth. I’ve got that right here.” Quinn cupped Eli’s cheek and put a thumb between his lips.

  Eli tore the wrapper on a cherry-flavored condom and slipped it on Quinn. “But I want to suck you off.” He made a deliberate bob almost to the base before backing off. “And I want you to go all Daddy on my ass while I jerk myself off.”

  Quinn grunted, hips shoving his dick against Eli’s lips, so Eli figured Quinn was down with the program. The condom made the little licks and flicks less effective, but taking him deep fast made up for it. Eli opened his throat and Quinn fucked into it, a couple of quick thrusts before the first crack of his hand on Eli’s ass.

  Eli braced himself with one hand on the edge of the bed and grabbed his dick with the other. Quinn pulled back enough to barely be pushing the head past Eli’s lips while Quinn smacked him three times on the same cheek. It hurt, enough to want to flinch away, but then he stopped and the warm tingling rush started. Eli groaned and sucked, covering his teeth and trying to get all the way down.

  “So good. Good little cocksucker.” Quinn grunted out the words.

  Eli stuck his ass up farther, and Quinn landed a more gentle series of smacks. Eli backed off enough to reach for Quinn’s belt, tugged the stiff narrow leather free of the loops and handed it up to Quinn.

  Quinn pulled him off, grabbing his chin and forcing Eli to look up at him.

  Quinn’s eyes were dark with wide pupils, the lamplight catching the silver in his hair. His jaw was tight, but his lips were soft. “Yeah?”

  “Make ’em sting,” Eli breathed. “Just watch my balls.”

  “Tuck them forward and keep them covered.”

  Needing one hand on the bed to brace himself, Eli couldn’t work his cock while protecting his balls, but Quinn snapped the tail of the belt down in a slow rhythm, plenty of time for the sting to turn to warmth spilling from his ass to his dick.

  “Christ, boy.” Quinn flicked the belt, and the tip whipped into the crease, burning onto Eli’s hole.

  Eli jerked, but as the eye-watering pain faded, his whole body throbbed with the rush of sensation.

  “Sorry, honey.” Quinn cupped Eli’s cheek, belt coiled around his palm, the end trailing over Eli’s shoulder. Backing away, he lifted Eli up again. Eli grabbed at Quinn’s hips.

  “No,” Quinn whispered. “You want to get off like this, yeah?” He tapped the coiled leather against Eli’s ass.

  Eli nodded. He did. Wanted the sting and the flush of warmth spiking the urge in his balls, wanted to ride it all the way into an explosion, wanted the soreness and the welts to last for days of jerking off to the memory of it. Quinn giving this to him, Quinn’s attention focused into the burn of the leather on Eli’s skin.

  “So let me do it right, honey.” Quinn moved around behind Eli, hauling him back toward the other side of the bed, spreading his legs wide apart, pushing his back down so his ass was high in the air. “Keep your balls covered.”

  Eli let his shoulders and knees take his weight as he got both hands underneath his hips and waited for the belt to sear into his skin.

  Quinn rubbed the belt over Eli’s ass, cool leather against the hot sensation on his cheeks, a soothing rub that spread pleasure all around. Eli sank into it, hand busy on his cock, and Quinn stepped back to crack the belt down.

  Eli jerked then relaxed. With his hand on his dick, the lash was nothing but pleasure, sharp and burning but sweet. Quinn picked up a faster rhythm, and Eli rode the razor edge of pain as the thin belt left line after line of heat across Eli’s ass. Just when he thought another lick would be too much, Quinn stopped and stepped close again, the fabric of his jeans coarse as sandpaper on Eli’s throbbing skin. His hands went to Eli’s hips,
and Quinn’s cock pressed against the top of Eli’s ass. Quinn’s bare cock. He’d stripped off the rubber.

  Right. That’s why he’d stopped Eli from sucking him off. Quinn probably had been doing it raw with Peter for years—not suspecting the guy was the biggest slut in Baltimore. It must be hard to get used to a barrier again. Eli hated the taste of latex, but there were flavored condoms. If a guy wanted Eli’s bare cock in his mouth, Eli usually wouldn’t object, but other than the whole I-wonder-if-I-can-feel-his-come thing, Eli hadn’t spent much time thinking about what it would be like to fuck bare.

  He wished he could give that to Quinn. It wasn’t theoretical now, but a genuine desire to know how it felt to have Quinn’s come inside, to know there was nothing between their skin. Eli could wish all he wanted, but he hadn’t been cautious as hell all these years to throw it out the window because Quinn seemed like a nice guy.

  Quinn stopped rubbing his cock against Eli and moved back again. This time the belt stung rapid-fire kisses at the bottom of his cheeks, like Quinn was waving the tail end back and forth. Quinn worked the sting inside Eli’s thighs, and Eli jacked his cock fast to ride out the burn, but before Eli could jerk away, Quinn cracked the belt hard again then stepped back. How many times had Quinn done this? He said he’d never done the Daddy stuff before, and Eli couldn’t picture Peter wanting his ass blistered for all he was a butt slut. Quinn was doing this just for him. Knowing that made the sensations sweeter.

  Quinn ran his hand over Eli’s ass. “So hot and red. I love watching you. Love the way you show me everything you want.”

  Knowing Quinn was paying that close of attention made heat pool in Eli’s belly in a way that had nothing to do with the fire in his balls or ass.

  Quinn leaned forward and ran his tongue down Eli’s spine. “Want more, or you gonna come now?” Quinn’s voice rumbled into the spaces inside.

  Eli wanted to do what Quinn wanted to do. Fuck the script and the bet and the illusion of control. Eli wanted to give it all to Quinn.

  Quinn smacked the belt deep into the crease at the bottom of his ass, and Eli jumped again.