by Laura Kaye
“No,” Charlie said, quickly sliding his hands up to Jeremy’s back to encourage him to stay right where he was. Because Charlie would’ve endured just about anything to keep him there forever. “Kiss me, Jeremy.”
“Gladly,” Jeremy said, sucking Charlie’s lower lip into his mouth. Slow, deep kisses quickly escalated to fast and frantic. Their bodies shifted and pressed. Their hands grasped and tugged. Their hard cocks rubbed together through their jeans until Charlie was suddenly sure of one thing.
“I don’t want to come like this,” he rasped, his brain scrambling to figure out exactly what he did want. And how to find the courage to voice it.
Jeremy pulled back, that pale green gaze absolutely on fire. “Then how?”
Charlie swallowed hard and his pulse raced even faster. Because his body, heart, and head were all in agreement, and he knew what he wanted—from Jeremy, with Jeremy.
Everything.
“I want . . .”
“Say it, Charlie. Tell me and I will give it to you.” Jeremy kissed him with his eyes open, and it was so intimate, so close. Closer than he’d ever felt to another person.
“I want you in me,” Charlie finally said, dizziness falling over him at the admission.
Jeremy kissed him, long and hard. “Are you sure?” he asked when they finally broke for a breath. “We don’t have to rush—”
“I’m sure,” Charlie said, clarity finally descending over him. “I feel so close to you. I want to feel that in every way.”
“God, I want you,” Jeremy rasped into a kiss. Charlie wasn’t sure whether it was the kiss or the words that most stole his breath. All he knew was that he’d never felt so much, nor so intensely, as he felt right then. Affection. Desire. Love.
Love?
Could he really be in love?
Jeremy pushed up onto his knees, straddled Charlie’s hips, and tugged his innuendo-filled T-shirt over his head. And Charlie was captivated by the sight of Jeremy over him. By the sexy way Jeremy shook out his dark hair. By the miles of ink that covered his muscular shoulders and lean stomach. By the friction caused from Jeremy’s weight sitting deliciously on Charlie’s lap.
Charlie’s hands went to Jeremy’s strong thighs as he stared up at him. “God, you’re so damn hot.” The grin Jeremy gave him had his chest ballooning with warmth and his cock aching.
Jer reached for Charlie’s shirt and together they worked it off. Then Jeremy was on him, kissing his neck, his chest, his stomach. Deft fingertips found and teased his nipples until Charlie was panting and squirming and dying for more. When Jeremy’s hands finally worked down the button and zipper to Charlie’s jeans, he nearly cried out in relief. Slipping off the end of the bed, Jeremy tugged off the rest of Charlie’s clothing and then removed his own.
Slowly, like a lion tracking prey, Jeremy crawled up the bed, pausing to kiss Charlie’s ankle, to flick his tongue against the soft spot under his knee, to drag his teeth up the inside of his thigh, to nibble on his hip bone.
“You’re killing me, Jeremy,” Charlie rasped, nearly desperate.
His chuckle was as infuriating as it was sexy. “I think you can take it,” he whispered, his mouth hovering right over Charlie’s cock. He gave one long, slow lick up the length of it that had Charlie moaning and grasping at Jeremy’s hair. Jeremy obliged him for just a moment, sucking his cock in deep and hollowing out his cheeks as he withdrew. And then he stretched out over Charlie’s body again and kissed him so thoroughly, so passionately, so intensely that it made Charlie feel like he’d never been kissed before.
Charlie grasped Jeremy’s head. “Want you now,” he whispered.
Jeremy reached over to his nightstand and pulled open the drawer. He settled a condom and a bottle of lube on the bed beside them. “Turn over and get on your knees,” he said.
Heart thundering against his breastbone, Charlie got on hands and knees. It had been a while since the last time he’d had sex, which was why he was absolutely starving for it right now. Despite how amazing their earlier activities had been, there was nothing like someone being wrapped tight around you while they were deep inside you.
Hands ran over his back, stroking down his spine and cupping his ass.
“You’re so beautiful, Charlie,” Jeremy said, pressing a kiss against the small of his back. “Don’t let me do anything that hurts you, okay?”
“You won’t,” Charlie said, smiling over his shoulder. He adored the way Jeremy gave compliments so freely, so casually, like they were just plain facts. Charlie had never before experienced anything like it.
As Charlie watched, Jeremy grabbed the lube and coated two of his fingers. Anticipation made Charlie’s stomach flip and then Jeremy was touching him with those slick fingertips, circling and teasing and stroking against the opening to his ass. One finger penetrated, making Charlie hum in pleasure. Jeremy caressed his back and ass cheeks as he fucked him with his finger, first one, then two. He twisted his wrist and scissored his fingers, preparing Charlie for more. For him.
The third finger made Charlie arch his back on a moan, but he was glad Jeremy was taking the time to make him ready. Jeremy’s girth demanded it. And Charlie wanted to be able to take every thick inch of him. “God, that’s good.”
“Yeah?” Jeremy said, stroking his own cock, making the tip of it drag pre-cum against Charlie’s thigh. “Your ass is fucking tight, Charlie. I’m gonna love it.”
Gently, Jer withdrew his fingers and reached for the condom. He rolled it up his length and moved behind Charlie. The click of the lube lid sounded out, followed by the wet friction of Jeremy stroking himself again.
And then Jeremy was right there, nudging his opening, pushing in, and slowly—so slowly—sinking deep.
Charlie wasn’t sure whose moan was louder. All he could think about was the white-hot burn of Jeremy’s invasion. The way his cock filled him. The way it stretched him. The way it made him ache in the most torturously amazing way.
“Jesus, Charlie,” Jeremy bit out. “Okay?”
“Yes, yes,” he murmured, lowering to his elbows as Jeremy’s hand pressed on his back.
The slow withdraw sent a flash fire of pain and pleasure through Charlie’s body, and he reached beneath himself and grasped his own dick.
As Jeremy’s cock penetrated deep again, a little faster this time, two things happened. The piercings moved inside Charlie, adding a whole new sensation to the already amazing feeling of being fucked. And the pain melted away in a heartbeat, leaving Charlie to drown in a sea of pleasure so sharp, so hot, so mind-blowing, that he had to press his face into the pillow to smother the groan that ripped out of him.
For a fleeting moment, his brain offered up the caution that Nick and Becca were right next door, but then Jeremy chased away his capacity for rational thought as he gripped Charlie’s hips and thrust into him faster.
“You take me so good, Charlie,” Jeremy said, his voice full of grit.
“That’s because I need you,” Charlie managed, a moan tearing up his throat as Jeremy bottomed out inside him. The piercings rattled together, almost creating a vibration every time Jer went deep, and it was fucking wild.
“I need you, too,” Jeremy said. He sank deep and laid his chest against Charlie’s back, his arms coming around Charlie’s stomach. The position made Jer fuck him even deeper, and Charlie loved the sensation of being completely surrounded, completely covered, completely owned.
Jeremy’s hips thrust and retreated while still hunched around him. It was so deep that a pleasure verging on pain flooded through Charlie, shoving him a giant step toward coming.
“Lay down, babe,” Jeremy said, pressing a kiss against Charlie’s neck.
Wait. Babe? Did Jeremy just call him babe?
Charlie’s heart melted as he eased into a flat position on his stomach and Jeremy’s weight followed him down, truly covering
him from head to foot. It was one of Charlie’s favorite positions because of the closeness, the heavy press of Jeremy’s body, and the depth it allowed.
Jeremy grasped tight to Charlie’s shoulder with one hand and gently turned Charlie’s face to him with the other, allowing them hot, awkward, too-short kisses as they moved and writhed together.
“You feel so good,” Charlie said.
The other man kissed him on a groan, his body moving faster, harder, deeper. As Jeremy picked up the pace, he forced Charlie’s hips to grind into the bed again and again. The friction against his dick was amazing and tormenting and sure to get him there way before he was ready for this to be over.
Charlie moaned and reached back with one arm, grasping at Jeremy’s ass. “Harder. Just like this. Gonna make me come.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Jeremy said as he delivered a series of hard, punctuating thrusts.
They were exactly what Charlie needed. The most exquisite clenching burn ripped through his lower body, and then he was smothering his yell in the pillow and coming in the tight space between his stomach and the bed, the sensation all the more intense because of the fullness Jeremy’s cock provided.
“So fucking good, so fucking good,” Jeremy rasped. “I can feel you. God.”
“Jeremy,” Charlie rasped as the spasms finally slowed.
On a desperate groan, Jeremy pushed onto his knees until he straddled Charlie’s thighs. He grasped Charlie’s ass in both hands, his thumbs holding him open. Jer slowed his pace and made his strokes longer, pulling almost all the way out before plunging all the way in again.
“It’s so damn hot watching me slide into you,” Jeremy rasped.
Just imagining what it looked like made Charlie’s dick stir again. “Feels even better,” he managed.
“Fuuuck,” Jeremy said, falling forward again. He braced his weight on his arms. “I can’t hold back any longer.”
“Don’t,” Charlie said. “Come in me.”
“Shit, Charlie.” Jeremy’s hips flew, the sound of their skin smacking together loud in the room. “Coming. Coming.” Jer moved through the orgasm, a long moan spilling from his mouth, and Charlie felt the jerk of the other man’s cock deep inside him.
Knowing that a man like Jeremy found such intense-sounding pleasure in him made Charlie feel like he was floating.
“Jesus,” Jeremy whispered as his orgasm passed. He rested his forehead against Charlie’s hair, then shifted the weight of his body to the side as he gently withdrew his cock. He got off the bed just long enough to dispose of the condom in the trash and to grab a folded towel from the dresser. “Roll over,” he said as he climbed back into bed.
Charlie couldn’t stop looking at Jeremy’s face as the other man busied himself with cleaning Charlie’s stomach and the bedding, because he wore an expression that was so relaxed, so satisfied that Charlie could barely believe he’d been the one to put it there. It made Jeremy beautiful, really, and it made Charlie’s heart feel too big for his chest.
Finally, Jeremy stretched out beside Charlie and pulled him into his arms. Charlie’s face came to rest on Jeremy’s shoulder, the front of his body pressed fully against the side of Jer’s. The moment was filled with the sweetest affection. Jeremy pulled Charlie’s arm across his chest and then stroked lazily at his skin. He petted his fingers through Charlie’s hair, making Charlie sleepy against his will. And he pressed kisses against Charlie’s forehead over and over and over again.
“Stay here with me tonight?” Jeremy asked.
Twin reactions coursed through Charlie. Soul-deep satisfaction that Jeremy wanted him to stay. And anxiety about what would happen if someone saw them come out together in the morning. Could Charlie handle being outed already? Would anyone care? Would it cause the problems he feared it might?
No Fear.
The problem was, he was fearful. He didn’t want to be. He hated it, in fact. But maybe he could fake it. The least he could do was try.
Charlie nodded and pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s throat. “I’ll stay.” The words set off a fluttering sensation in Charlie’s chest.
“Good,” Jeremy said. “Because I don’t want to let you go.”
Chapter 10
CHARLIE COULDN’T SLEEP.
Every time Jeremy’s warmth lured him into unconsciousness, he jolted back awake, his eyes going right to the alarm clock next to the bed, his brain caught in a frustrating state of alert caused by Charlie’s worry about what would happen in the morning.
He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to miss even a single moment with Jeremy. He didn’t want to give up this amazing closeness, something he’d never had before. So he stayed despite his exhaustion, despite his inability to relax, despite the adrenaline his stupid brain kept pumping through his system.
When the clock flipped over to 6:00 A.M., Charlie eased out of bed. He searched in the darkness for his clothes, able to tell the two pair of jeans strewn across the floor apart because Jeremy’s had a cell phone in the pocket. Using the light from the cell to locate his shirt and shoes, he hastily put his clothes back on. He nearly held his breath in an effort to be quiet, and then he tiptoed barefoot across the room, slowly twisted the doorknob, and opened the door just enough to squeeze out.
Charlie nearly walked right into Nick and Becca.
“Shit,” he hissed, so startled that he dropped his shoes and blood pounded behind his ears.
“Sorry,” Becca said with a laugh.
Eyebrow arched, Nick gave him an appraising look.
Heat roared up Charlie’s neck, and he bent to retrieve his sneakers. He was so, so busted.
“So, uh, you’re up early,” he whispered to the couple. His gaze skated to the door to Jeremy’s room, still halfway open.
Nick’s eyes narrowed, but a hint of a smile played around his mouth. “Did you . . . spend the night with Jeremy?”
Becca’s eyes went wide and a slow smile climbed up her face.
The walls closed in on Charlie. His chest went tight and the air became suddenly too thin. Hastily, he leaned to grasp the doorknob and pulled the door closed. “Of course I didn’t spend the night with Jeremy.”
Crossing his arms, Nick smirked. “Then what were you doing?”
Charlie’s thoughts whirled, his gut burning with guilt for lying to his sister and the man who’d saved his life. “I, uh, was going to get a clean shirt from him. I thought he’d be up,” he finally managed.
“And you needed your shoes for that?” Nick asked.
Totally flustered now, Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know. Why does it matter?”
Nick held up his hands as if surrendering. “It doesn’t. No worries. I just thought maybe you two . . .” He shrugged. “ . . . were together.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Charlie felt totally cornered. Not only was he unsure how ready he was for others to know, he and Jeremy had never even talked about whether to go public in the first place. What if Jeremy didn’t want anyone to know?
“No,” Charlie blurted, his stomach burning. “We’re not together.”
“Oh. You’re not?” Becca asked, her tone full of disappointment.
But Charlie couldn’t think about that, couldn’t analyze what it meant, not when he was struggling to breathe. “No. For the last time, we’re not together. Gotta go shower,” he said. He rushed down the hall to the bathroom and shut himself inside.
He didn’t even turn on the light. All he could do was lean against the back of the door, his shoes still clutched to his chest. He wrote strings of code in his mind’s eye until he could breathe again.
What the hell just happened?
You freaked out. That’s what the hell just happened. Idiot.
Charlie heaved a deep breath, his lungs finally open enough to work again.
Wow. He hadn’t had a panic attack that bad since the mo
rning thugs from the Church Gang had busted into his motel room, forced a black cloth over his head, tied him up, and thrown him into the back of a van. Of course, it made a lot more sense in that situation than it did just now.
Flipping on the light, Charlie turned and rested his back against the door. Why couldn’t he be normal?
“You know you’re going to make things so much harder for yourself. Living like this,” his father had said in their last argument about the long list of things he found disappointing about Charlie. It was an argument they’d had so many times. From the time Charlie had come out at nineteen to the very last. And at the top of dear old dad’s list of WHY CHARLIE WAS A DISAPPOINTMENT AS A SON AND A HUMAN BEING was Charlie’s sexual orientation.
“If things are harder, they’re harder. But I’m not choosing this life, Colonel,” Charlie said, knowing his use of his rank would irritate him. “It’s who I am.”
“You could try—”
“I’m gay!” Charlie threw his arms wide. “There’s no trying anything. This is just who I am. I’m gay. I’m shy. I’m a loner. I’m a computer geek. I’m fucking awkward sometimes—”
“Language, Charlie. Show a little respect,” his father said.
“Oh. Like you show me?”
“Respect is earned.”
“And I can’t earn yours as long as I’m gay, right? Fuck this,” he’d said before he stormed out. His father had chased after him, but Charlie hadn’t looked back.
Fuck this. Those were the last words he’d ever said to his father. Less than a year later, Becca had shown up at his apartment and delivered the news that their father had died in Afghanistan.
Charlie threw his shoes to the bathroom floor and clutched at his hair.
The man was dead. And Charlie was twenty-six years old. Why the hell did his father still have so much power over him? Charlie wasn’t sure whether to be more pissed at himself or his father’s ghost.
All he knew was that, so far, he was doing a piss-poor job of living up to his tattoo.
