He was bullshitting. His hands did hurt, but mostly he was just turned on by the thought of Dean stripping him naked.
Dean laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah… okay.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No!” Dean said quickly. “I’m just a little out of my element here. Phil was really kind of… well, I feel bad saying it, but he wasn’t very adventurous in bed. And it’s been a while since him.”
Aiden nibbled on Dean’s earlobe, making him shudder. “Why don’t you let me show you a few things, then?”
“I’m all yours.”
“Undress me.”
It turned out, once Dean got past his initial feelings of awkwardness, he didn’t need coaching. As soon as he’d removed Aiden’s sweater and polo shirt, setting them neatly on the desk chair, he groaned and began caressing Aiden’s chest and shoulders as if he’d never seen anything so beautiful before. Then he lowered his mouth to Aiden’s right nipple and nibbled on it, causing Aiden to gasp and arch his back.
Aiden’s cock was painfully erect and straining against the fabric of his briefs. It was leaking copiously, creating an uncomfortable damp spot in his underwear. He desperately wanted to free himself, but he waited while Dean switched to his left nipple and then left a trail of kisses down his abdomen.
Finally, Dean undid his belt buckle and unsnapped his waistband. He lowered the fly and slid them to the floor. Aiden didn’t have the patience to wait for Dean to remove his shoes, so he kicked them off and stepped out of his slacks. He waited in frustration, still in his boxer briefs, while Dean picked them up and rested them on the chair. He thought it was sweet that Dean was being so careful with his clothes, as if he were afraid they’d be damaged by contact with the bedroom carpet, but seriously, Aiden was ready to throw them out the window just to get the torture over with.
At last Dean returned to his crotch.
“You’re really leaking a lot,” Dean said breathlessly. He licked the damp spot at the tip of Aiden’s confined cock.
Aiden shuddered. “Take the fucking underwear off before I go out of my mind.”
Dean laughed, nibbling at Aiden’s cock briefly before he obeyed. As soon as Aiden’s shaft popped out of its confines, harder than he could remember it being in a very long time, Dean swallowed it, taking its entire length down to the base. Aiden groaned as he felt the tip slide against the back of Dean’s throat.
He let Dean suck on him for a while, bringing him to the brink, but then he pulled away. “Don’t make me come. Not yet. You’re not even naked.”
Dean stood and kissed him. Then he breathed, “You want me naked?”
“Fuck, yes.”
DEAN was nervous about Aiden seeing him unclothed, but it had nothing to do with his body. At least, not the majority of it. He did a lot of hard physical work, so he knew he was in pretty good shape—probably better than he’d looked skinny-dipping at sixteen.
The problem was his ass….
He’s going to think I’m a psycho stalker.
There was no way to hide it, under the circumstances. He took a breath and unbuttoned his shirt, only then remembering it wasn’t his shirt. “Oh,” he said, draping it on top of Aiden’s clothes, “take that back to your dad, and thank him for me.”
“Will do.”
Aiden lightly traced the tattoos on his chest and arms with his fingers. Then he leaned in to press his face against Dean’s chest, breathing in deeply. “God, you smell good.”
“I smell like Old Spice and sweat. Not necessarily in that order.”
“Oh, yeah,” Aiden sighed. “I love it.”
Dean snorted and reached up to stroke his head. Then he pulled back quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to mess up your hair.”
Aiden laughed and raised himself up to look him in the eye. “What kind of a prima donna do you think I am?”
“I don’t,” Dean said defensively. “You’re just so… tidy. And….” The first word that popped into his head was expensive—he shuddered to think how much those clothes sitting on the chair had cost—but he didn’t want to make Aiden sound like a prostitute. He settled on, “Well-groomed. You look like you could be on the cover of a magazine.”
Aiden seemed a little uncomfortable at the praise. “Well… I have to look professional.”
“You do!”
“Thanks. But I’m stark naked right now, and unless somebody pulls a fire alarm, we’re about to fuck. So you can touch my hair all you like. Run your hands through it, rub your dick in it, come in it—knock yourself out.”
Dean burst out laughing, then spontaneously grabbed Aiden’s head and completely ruffled his hair with both hands. He pulled Aiden in and kissed him deeply.
“You’re awesome,” he said, when their lips parted.
“Thanks. But you still have clothes on.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Dean lowered his hands to unsnap his jeans. Then he hesitated. “Listen… I didn’t tell you about one of my tattoos. You might think it’s a little weird.”
Aiden cocked his head and his eyes twinkled. “Oh? Let’s see it.”
Dean sighed and turned around. Then he pulled open his fly and shucked both his jeans and his underwear in one motion.
“What is…?” Aiden crouched down to get a better look at Dean’s right asscheek. “Good God!” he laughed. “That’s Brahms.”
It was. Not the composer’s face, but a small section of a piano score—the opening few bars of the “Intermezzo in A Major.” One of Aiden’s favorite pieces. Or at least it had been when they were teens. And it was the first piece of music Aiden had ever played for Dean, one afternoon after school when they were alone in the music room.
“I got it as soon as I turned sixteen,” Dean said.
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Not back then. Opa just had to vouch for me at the tattoo parlor in Berlin.”
“And he let you put it on your ass?”
Dean laughed. Truthfully, Opa hadn’t been thrilled about that part. But Dean had argued there wasn’t a better place to hide it from nosy neighbors. “I wanted you on my ass. You have a problem with that?”
“No. I like it there.”
Aiden caressed the tattoo gently, which felt a fuckload more erotic to Dean than he might have intended. Fuck me, Dean begged silently. Please, fuck me.
“I feel like shit for not coming back that Christmas,” Aiden said quietly.
“Dude,” Dean said, intensely aware of how dorky it was to be having this conversation while Aiden’s face was inches from his naked ass, “we were kids. I had a crush on you, and I got a tattoo. If it had been your name, I don’t think Opa would have agreed to it. But you and me are the only people in the world who know what that little bit of music means. And it’s not like I saved my virginity for you all these years or anything like that.”
Aiden laughed. “Now I’m crushed. I really wanted your virgin ass.”
“Well, you’ll just have to settle for my perfectly ordinary, somewhat used ass.”
Aiden kissed the tattoo and said, “Oh, it’s far from ordinary. Why don’t you spread your legs a bit so I can show you how much I appreciate it?”
Dean obediently kicked off his sneakers and stepped out of his jeans, but he said, “You aren’t thinking of…?”
“You don’t like it?”
“I… nobody’s ever done it to me.”
“I said I’d teach you some new things.”
And so he did. It felt weird, at first, to have a man’s rough chin down there, but the sensations Aiden caused with his tongue were amazing. They produced a tingling that traveled up through Dean’s body, stopping to swirl around in his dick a minute, before shooting up to his nipples. He felt aroused all over, every muscle, every square inch of his skin. Five minutes ago, he might have said what Aiden was doing was disgusting… but not now.
Now, it was heavenly.
DEAN really did have one of the most beautiful asses Aiden had ever seen. The man was pure muscle, but th
ere was still a smoothness to him Aiden found appealing, and his soft, ash brown body hair accentuated all the right places. And the tattoos—they turned his entire body into a work of art.
What should he make of the Brahms tattoo on Dean’s ass? He wasn’t sure. It was kind of weird, but Aiden could see an impulsive sixteen-year-old Dean getting an idea like that into his head and then refusing to let go of it. He’d always been like that.
Why the hell didn’t I come back to him? He must have been crushed.
It was hard to recall all the foolishness going through his own head that year and for the rest of high school. Dean hadn’t seemed unhappy to see him leave, and Aiden had let his insecurities color his memories of those last few days together. He couldn’t have come back permanently. He’d needed to move on in order to follow the dream he’d been nursing his entire life, as far back as he could remember—the dream of performing with professional orchestras, for audiences that understood and appreciated his skill.
But… couldn’t he have at least come back to see Dean? It would have been agony to leave again, but now it was agony to think of the pain he’d put Dean through. What a self-absorbed ass I was.
Aiden kissed his way up Dean’s spine, sliding his hands up his naked front despite the dull ache returning to his tendons. He needed to feel the delicious smoothness of Dean’s inner thighs, to cup his heavy ballsac and caress his thick shaft, then move up the ripples of his abdomen to tweak his hard nipples. Beautiful. Like a Michelangelo sculpture—with a much, much bigger dick than the master had given his David.
He nibbled on Dean’s ear. “This is just a guess… but I’m thinking you’d like me inside you.”
“Oh, yeah,” Dean murmured. “I want you to fuck me like I’ve never been fucked.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Dean had lube and condoms in his desk, but when he checked the expiration date on the latter, it was far enough in the past to be dubious. Fortunately, Aiden had some in his wallet that hadn’t been purchased more than a month ago—just before his relationship with Louis ended for good.
They fucked in a number of positions, since Aiden was determined to give Dean what he wanted—a fuck like nothing he’d ever had before. For that matter, Dean was more responsive than anyone Aiden had been with in years. But eventually they settled into a face-to-face position, with Dean’s legs over Aiden’s shoulders. As their bodies drew closer to orgasm, Aiden slowed his thrusts, enthralled by the tenderness he saw in Dean’s warm brown eyes.
Nobody has ever looked at me like that before….
Even as he thought it, he buried himself to the hilt and erupted deep inside Dean. The warmth that splashed against his belly and Dean’s breathless moan made it feel as if their bodies, their cocks, were one and the same, filling the room with one tremendous orgasm.
Chapter Twenty-One
WAKING up to find a naked Aiden Scott sleeping beside him had to be the highlight of Dean’s year—maybe even the last decade. Aiden was sleeping on his back, his breathing slow and even, the light coming in through the open window illuminating the tip of his nose and chin and highlighting his soft lips. His chestnut hair was sticking up in all directions, and Dean couldn’t resist brushing it back from his forehead.
Aiden stirred, rolling his head toward Dean and opening his hazel eyes, which looked strikingly green this morning. “Morning.”
“You are an unbelievably good-looking dude.”
Aiden smiled. “Thanks, handsome. It’s been a long time since anyone said that.”
“Then your last boyfriend was an idiot,” Dean said darkly. “Or blind.”
“We weren’t right for each other.”
Everything Dean could think of in response to that would have come out either too presumptuous—To hell with him—or too needy—Maybe we could be right for each other—so he took the safer route of sliding his hand underneath the sheets and running it down Aiden’s smooth, taut abdomen until his fingers slid through pubic hair. “Should we get up for breakfast, or just eat each other in bed?”
“Oh God.” Aiden rolled his eyes. “You’re a dork.” He rolled toward Dean and kissed him. His cock stiffened against Dean’s palm, but he sat up and said, “I have to use your bathroom. Should I brace myself?”
“Do you want me to clean it for your lordship before you take a piss?”
“Just as long as nothing crawls out of the toilet when I lift the lid.”
“Don’t worry,” Dean assured him, “I always leave the seat up, so it’s probably already escaped.”
Aiden grunted in disgust as he crawled over Dean to get out of the bed. “There we go. That’s the Dean Cooper I knew and loved in high school.”
Dean just lay back contentedly, one arm behind his head, and watched Aiden’s naked ass as he walked out of the room. He reached under the blankets and stroked his morning hard-on a little, wondering if Aiden would enjoy getting fucked. Unfortunately, he didn’t really have time to have sex this morning, even if he could get Aiden interested. He’d promised to pick up some azaleas Mrs. Rosenbach had ordered from Leighton’s Nursery and plant them in her backyard. Then he should deliver the books to Lisa.
The question was, would Aiden be up for more sex at some other time?
Please don’t let this be a one-time thing.
Dean crawled out of bed and fished some clean sweatpants out of his dresser. He slipped them on and went into the kitchen to brew some coffee. A minute later, Aiden joined him in the kitchen. He’d wet his hair and run a comb through it, and he’d retrieved his boxer briefs from the bedroom.
“You survived,” Dean commented, taking a couple of mugs down from the cupboard.
“For a single guy living on his own,” Aiden said, “your bathroom isn’t half-bad.”
“So every single guy lives like a pig? That’s a cruel stereotype.”
Aiden smirked at him as he retrieved the sugar bowl from the cupboard—the white china bowl with roses painted on it which had always been in that exact spot—and brought it to the table. “All right. Granted. But you are the same Dean Cooper who used to turn his underwear inside out so he could wear it an extra day, are you not?”
Dean snorted and almost dropped the mug he was holding. “Give me a break. I was fifteen.”
“Just tell me you don’t do that anymore.”
“No, Aiden,” Dean replied with as much dignity as he could manage, “I do not.”
“Sometimes change is good.”
Dean poured them both cups of coffee and set the mugs on the table. Aiden found a carton of half-and-half in the refrigerator and then grabbed a sugar spoon out of the silverware drawer. Dean was warmed by the way he knew where everything was, as if they’d been living together for years. Though it was a little sad to realize how little in Dean’s life had changed since he was in high school.
“How are your hands?”
“Oh.” Aiden set the spoon and half-and-half on the table. Then he held his hands up and examined them as he flexed his fingers. “I think they’re okay now. They just needed to rest.”
“Good.”
“I’m getting the impression we aren’t going to lounge around in our underwear all day and explore new sexual positions,” Aiden said as he sat down and took one of the mugs.
Dean felt a twinge in his dick at the suggestion. Down, boy. “I wish. But I’ve got things I have to do.” Then, because he was afraid that sounded like a brushoff, he added, “I made promises to people.”
“I understand.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be up for exploring new sexual positions tonight?” he asked hopefully.
Aiden gave him a look with so much heat it practically sizzled. “Oh, yeah. I’m totally up for that.”
THE look of delight on Dean’s face pierced Aiden through the heart. He didn’t want to ruin what they had between them right now, but maybe it was time to make something clear. “Dean… I need to tell you something.”
Dean suddenly looked w
ary. “What?”
“I really enjoyed last night—”
“Oh God,” Dean interrupted, gritting his teeth, “it’s the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech.”
Aiden sighed and looked away. “Not exactly.” He paused a moment, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. “Look… coming back to Springhaven was like stepping into a time warp. Nothing has changed.” He glanced around at the kitchen, so familiar, yet different, without the scent of pipe tobacco hanging in the air. “Well, some things have. Opa passed away. I guess a lot of people have. And some of our friends from high school have moved away. But otherwise… everything looks the same. And this….” He made a motion with his hand, as if he were connecting them, drawing a line between their hearts. “It feels the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“It feels as if we’ve only been apart for a year or two—not seventeen.”
Dean grinned and waggled his eyebrows lecherously. “In high school we never did anything like what we did last night.”
“No.” Aiden couldn’t help smiling at that. “Though I think we would’ve if we’d had any more time together.”
“You bet your sweet ass.”
Aiden looked down into his coffee cup, unable to meet Dean’s gaze as he said, “But I don’t know how long I’m going to be here, Dean.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“The audition went really well yesterday. You know that. So… I’m starting to think I might be able to go back… to perform again. Not just in Manchester, but….”
Even without looking at him, Aiden could sense Dean’s smile fading. He heard Dean get up and go to the sink. By the time he dared look up, Dean was dumping his unfinished coffee down the drain and rinsing his mug out.
“I’m gonna jump in the shower,” he said without facing Aiden. “Go ahead and finish your coffee. I’ll drop you off at your house.”
“I was kind of hoping we could shower together.”
Dean turned the water off and froze for a moment. Then he slowly turned around. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back to rest his butt against the edge of the counter. He looked down at the tile floor for a long time before he said, “Okay. We can be fuck buddies if that’s what you want.”
Small Town Sonata Page 13
