by A. M. Arthur
He thrilled at the idea that Alessandro might be changing his catch-and-release stance on their relationship. That this was becoming more than sex for both of them.
He washed his hands and rejoined the others in the living room. Ezra was pouring something green from a bottle of premixed cocktails that came with the alcohol included. Romy had his plastic cup already. Alessandro accepted one for himself.
“And for the teetotaler among us,” Ezra said with a grin, “I have bottled water and an open two-liter of root beer that’s probably flat.”
Jaime laughed. “Water’s fine.”
Ezra pulled a bottle out of the small fridge, which was almost completely bare of anything except water and alcohol, with a variety of takeout boxes. He tossed the bottle, which Jaime caught easily. Music blared out of a sound system he hadn’t noticed. Romy was fiddling with something near the television, and then the music switched to a dancing beat, similar to what they’d danced to at the bar.
“Won’t your neighbors mind the music?” Jaime asked.
“The fuck do I care?” Ezra said with a laugh. “It’s Saturday.”
Romy tugged Alessandro into the small space between the couches to dance, each balancing their cup of margarita on the rocks. Alessandro was beautiful when he danced, so confident and radiating sex. Jaime stood behind one of the couches and watched them, his heart pounding, his blood pulsing through his body. God, he wanted Alessandro so badly.
Ezra curled his body around him from behind, draping a loose arm across his stomach. He rested his chin on Jaime’s shoulder. Jaime inhaled the scent of his aftershave and sweat and the lime-sweet smell of the margarita.
“Romy has a nice ass, don’t you think?” Ezra said softly, right into his ear. A conversation just for them, unheard over the pulse of the music.
“It’s not bad,” he replied.
“I can’t wait to get him into my bed. To push him down on my mattress and lick his hole open.” The hand on Jaime’s belly pressed harder, and Jaime leaned back into Ezra. The taller man’s erection pressed into the crease of his ass. “I’ll rim him until he’s begging for me to shove my cock inside him. Then I’ll give him a finger, I think. Only one, just to drive him mad.”
Jaime swallowed hard, his pulse leaping. He put down his water so he could grip the back of the couch with both hands. He ached to reach down and touch himself, to give his dick a little relief for the first time tonight. Alessandro glanced at him then, his eyes somehow seeing everything in less than a second—and the cocky bastard grinned.
“Only one finger, though, and not for long,” Ezra continued. “Then I’ll bend him over the bed and shove my whole cock up his ass. I’ll fuck him through the floor, and he won’t be able to come until I do. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll let him come in my mouth.”
The mental image of Ezra swallowing down Romy’s come made Jaime groan out loud. He reached for his dick, intending only to adjust himself, but Ezra’s hand came off his stomach and held him there. The pressure made Jaime’s balls ache for release.
“Don’t ever be ashamed of liking sex, Jaime. Don’t let anyone make you feel ashamed of who and what you are.”
“I’m not sure who and what I am.”
Ezra nudged his neck with his nose. “You’re fucking sexy as hell, is what you are. You gotta have fun finding yourself, or else what’s the point?”
He was definitely having fun so far. He couldn’t help hearing something unspoken in Ezra’s words. Something he’d sensed from Alessandro a few times—that nothing happening now was permanent. He wasn’t sure that Alessandro asking if it was okay to call each other boyfriends was anything more than staking his claim as the person who was helping him come into his own as a young gay man, or if they had a chance of being something more permanent. Jaime wanted experiences, and he wanted to experiment.
He also wanted Alessandro.
How did he find a peaceful balance between those two things?
* * *
The back of the couch was too high for Alessandro to see exactly what Ezra’s hand was doing so close to Jaime’s crotch, and dancing with Romy prevented a long, hard look, but the sight made his blood hum. And not in a jealous, angry way. Ezra was gorgeous, and he’d plastered himself up against Jaime in a manner that was both intimate and distant—touching without offending. The two of them together, sweaty and aroused, was beautiful.
The few things he remembered about Ezra—bookstore job, apartment, money in the bank, confident—suggested he’d make a better boyfriend for Jaime than Alessandro. Alessandro had too much baggage, plus the added bonus of being the son of illegals and a foster kid. He didn’t have anything to offer Jaime, not even his own place. Nothing about their time together was permanent.
He still wanted to enjoy the hell out of it.
Romy’s hands were wandering all over his back, down to squeeze his ass. Their hard-ons rubbed together with just enough friction to keep things interesting. Romy nuzzled at his neck without trying to kiss him on the mouth. And for all of the cute, wriggling, fuckable boy in his arms, Alessandro kept wishing Jaime was there, instead.
Jaime, on the other hand, looked like he was in heaven, standing by the couch with Ezra feeling him up. Only Jaime met Alessandro’s eyes every time, and the heat struck him from across the room. The desire and the want. And a silent promise to not go any farther than Alessandro allowed.
As the song changed to something a little slower, Alessandro caught Ezra’s gaze and gave him a subtle nod. He gently turned Romy around to mirror Ezra and Jaime’s position, his front to Romy’s back, hard cock pushed firmly against his ass. To the beat of the song, he slid his right hand across Romy’s chest, down to the waist of his leather pants. Jaime pulled his hand away from his own crotch, giving Ezra full access.
Heart pounding in his ears louder than the music, Alessandro tried to lead the unspoken game they were now playing. A game where no one was quite sure of the rules. He rubbed Romy’s cock through his pants, up and down the hard length, and he watched, mesmerized, as Ezra did the same to Jaime. Jaime’s mouth dropped open as his head fell back to rest against Ezra’s shoulder, though he still maintained eye contact with Alessandro.
Alessandro popped the fly button on Romy’s jeans. He watched every muscle tic on Jaime’s face, every silent signal, as Ezra mimicked him. The instant Jaime looked scared or unwilling, he’d stop this. Two zippers went down almost simultaneously. Jaime’s breath hitched loudly, but his body remained relaxed, totally open to Ezra’s touch.
He slid his hand down the smooth skin of Romy’s belly, unsurprised to find to no underwear barrier beneath the tight leather, until his fingers touched a nest of coarse hair. Ezra’s mirroring touch made Jaime’s chest heave with each breath. His cheeks were red, his eyes wide, so perfectly open and wanton that Alessandro had to remind himself to stay still and not launch across the room to suck Jaime off right the hell now.
Ezra turned his head in a way that caught Alessandro’s attention. His eyebrows furrowed and his gaze dropped. Alessandro followed, catching a detail he’d missed—Jaime’s right hand clutching at Ezra’s thigh. At first glance, it could be a sensual touch to hold himself upright. But Ezra could feel the pressure of the grip, and his expression told Alessandro something he’d missed. Something that could turn into regret later, and he didn’t want Jaime regretting tonight.
He removed his hand from Romy’s pants, slowly so as not to startle either him or Jaime, and Ezra did the same. Alessandro rested his palm over Romy’s belly and carefully walked him toward the couch. The four of them met, and in a fast exchange, Alessandro pulled Jaime into his arms.
Jaime’s erection hadn’t flagged, but his arms went around Alessandro’s waist in a death grip, hands locking in the back of his shirt. Tiny tremors snaked down his back. Alessandro kissed his cheek and neck. He showed Jaime he was safe. Jaime didn’t stay passive long. He twisted his head to capture Alessandro’s mouth in hard kiss that made his head spin.
> “That was hot,” Jaime whispered directly into his ear, “but this is way better.”
Alessandro kissed him again, harder, vaguely aware of the other couple tumbling onto the couch as a single, tangled body. He dragged Jaime over to the other sofa and pulled him down on top of him. He had half a second to think that he should have just found the guest room, before Jaime shoved his tongue into his mouth and a hand down his jeans.
The tight cotton didn’t give him much maneuvering room, even lying down, and Jaime seemed impatient. He yanked at the zipper, momentarily forgetting the button, then had his hand in Alessandro’s briefs, stroking his cock. Alessandro groaned into his questing mouth, so hot it wouldn’t take more than a few determined strokes to get him off. He wanted so badly to fuck Jaime tonight, but if Jaime had other plans, he’d go with it.
Either he’d forgotten they weren’t alone or he truly didn’t care, because Jaime slid down the length of Alessandro’s body until he could kneel on the cushions between his spread legs. They shared a look for only an instant, and then Jaime bent his head and swallowed Alessandro down to the root.
“Fuck,” Alessandro drawled, turning the single syllable into a five-word sentence. Wet heat bobbed around his cock. A thick tongue stroked, tickling all around the head, teasing the shaft. He shut his eyes, falling into the sensations, unable to do anything except lay there and let Jaime blow him.
“Holy shit,” Ezra said somewhere to the right. “So gorgeous.”
Alessandro didn’t know if he meant Romy, or Jaime’s mouth around his dick. He’d go with the latter, but he wasn’t opening his eyes long enough to check. His balls were tingling, drawing up, ready to shoot if Jaime didn’t—
He pulled off with a lewd plop that made Alessandro’s eyes snap open. Jaime loomed over him, red lips deliciously puffy, eyes sparkling with lust. He glanced over his shoulder, and Alessandro finally noticed their captive audience. Ezra and Romy were tangled together, half their clothes shed, but they’d paused to stare.
“What do you want, babe?” Alessandro asked softly. “Just ask.”
His lips twitched while he formed words for his thoughts. “You. Alone.”
Those weren’t the words Alessandro expected, but he’d go with it. Ezra must have heard, because he pulled Romy up and hustled him toward the rear of the apartment. As soon as one of the bedroom doors shut with a loud clack, Jaime grinned. He pulled Alessandro’s jeans and briefs the rest of the way off, after a brief argument with his shoes and socks, then helped him with his shirt. It left Alessandro naked and supine on the couch, with Jaime still fully dressed.
“I liked playing with Romy and Ezra,” Jaime said, “but I want you all to myself tonight.”
Tonight. Implying another night he might be interested in Ezra. Or Romy. Or both of them at the same time. The idea made him both hot and jealous, and he didn’t have time to think more on it before Jaime’s mouth was on his cock again. Alessandro wasn’t shy in letting Jaime know what he liked, and Jaime read his signals perfectly, pulling off again before it was too late. Jaime squeezed the base of his shaft, stilling the impending orgasm. Alessandro’s mind cleared a bit.
Jaime watched him with a new kind of curiosity that Alessandro didn’t recognize, like he was puzzling over a mystery he needed to solve.
“What’s wrong?” Alessandro asked.
“Nothing.”
“Tell me what you want.”
He leaned down, an intense presence that surprised Alessandro. “I want you to lean me over the back of this couch and fuck me standing.”
Alessandro’s balls burned. “Fuck, yeah. Get up.”
Jaime did, his legs shaking a little. He walked around to the other side of the couch, then bent just enough to place his palms flat against the back. The submissive position, even while fully dressed, sent a bolt of lust through Alessandro that would have knocked him over if he wasn’t already sitting. He stood slowly so he didn’t get dizzy and pass out. Retrieved a condom and packet of lube from his wallet. Placed those two items on the back of the couch next to Jaime’s left hand.
“You want me to fuck you like this?” Alessandro asked, deliberately huffing his breath into Jaime’s ear.
“Yes.”
He pressed a hand against the middle of Jaime’s back, bending him forward until he was almost at ninety degrees. Jaime went without argument, head angled to watch over his shoulder with wide, shining eyes. Alessandro undid his jeans and let them fall to his knees, then pushed his briefs down to join them. When Jaime started to move to remove them, Alessandro stopped him with a hand on his hip. He wanted Jaime’s legs trapped, half-dressed. He shoved Jaime’s Henley and undershirt up higher, then licked along the exposed vertebrae until Jaime whined.
“Gonna fuck you just like this,” Alessandro whispered to his naked skin. “Standing, still mostly dressed, shoes on. You want that?”
“God, yes. Please.”
He fisted Jaime’s hard cock, his own twitching at the sound of Jaime’s moan. At the sharp intake of breath as he ran his thumb over the flared head.
“Bastard,” Jaime whispered.
Alessandro laughed. He grabbed the condom and suited up, then slicked himself first before pushing a finger of lube deep into Jaime’s entrance. Jaime yelped at the fast, unexpected intrusion, then pushed back hard into the touch. Into the invasion. Alessandro thrust in and out a few times, too turned on to prep much more. Eager to be inside the boy he’d been imagining fucking all night.
“Just do it,” Jaime said, his voice hoarse. Demanding.
So goddamn sexy. “Yeah, babe.”
He lined himself up and pushed inside. Jaime’s body resisted only a moment, and then let him in, swallowing his cock into rippling heat. Their groans melted into one. Alessandro pressed his hands down on top of Jaime’s, threading their fingers together, then kissed the back of his neck. Jaime shivered, and his body allowed Alessandro in even deeper. A guttural sound burst from Jaime that snapped the last of Alessandro’s control. He fucked Jaime, hips moving instinctively, burying his cock again and again in that perfect, hot flesh. His hips slapped against Jaime’s ass with each thrust, the sound a backdrop to their labored breathing.
“Harder,” Jaime commanded, and Alessandro obliged.
The sofa scraped across the floor a few inches. Jaime bent over farther, practically hugging the cushions, while Alessandro drove into him. Their hands stayed locked. Jaime shouted. Alessandro matched him, and then came in a burst of pure pleasure and adoration. Adoration that, if he let himself ponder it, might actually be another, stronger emotion. He thrust into Jaime a few more times, drawing out the last of his orgasm, then reached around to help Jaime out.
Only he grabbed a damp dick and his knuckles brushed a rope of stickiness clinging to the back of the couch. Jaime had come just from being fucked. Okay, so rubbing against the back of the couch probably didn’t hurt, either, but Alessandro loved the idea of fucking Jaime into an orgasm.
And that wasn’t, he realized with stunning clarity, the only thing about Jaime he loved.
I am in so much trouble.
Chapter Fourteen
Jaime woke with a start, immediately aware of two things: he wasn’t in his own bed and that he wasn’t alone. The familiar heat of Alessandro plastered against his back and the soft rumble of his breathing identified the second part of that puzzle. The bedroom walls were bare and impersonal, like a motel room, only he was sure—Ezra’s place. The spare room.
He and Alessandro had stumbled into the spare bedroom not long after their mind-blowing sexcapades over the back of the sofa. His ass was still sore from the rough fucking, and his dick was a bit raw from rubbing against the nappy material of the couch, but he regretted nothing. Not a single moment of last night’s adventure to Pot O Gold, and then back here.
Maybe one small regret.
He’d been incredibly turned on by Ezra and having Ezra’s hands on him. The mirror game they’d played, with Ezra mimicking what Alessa
ndro did to Romy, had been the hottest thing Jaime had ever participated in. Hotter even than grinding between two people at the bar. And he’d gone and ruined it by getting too tense when Ezra’s hand was in his pants. A near stranger’s fingers had brushed the top of his pubic hair, less than an inch from his dick, and he’d panicked. Ezra had noticed. Everything stopped.
Jaime hadn’t really wanted it to stop. He’d been too nervous to say so, and Alessandro was too damned caring to push him when his physical signals blared discomfort. He liked Ezra. He could tell Alessandro liked Ezra, too, and he liked watching Ezra handle him.
The limp body on top of him snuffled and shifted. The arm around his waist tightened, then loosened. Warm lips pressed to the back of his neck, and Jaime smiled against his flattened pillow. Alessandro mumbled something that might have been an attempt at “Good morning,” and Jaime sighed out his utter contentment. He liked waking up this way.
“How do you feel?” Jaime asked.
“Excellent,” he replied.
“You drank a lot last night.”
Alessandro pulled back far enough that Jaime could twist around to face him. “Does that bother you?”
“What? No. I was just wondering if you were feeling it or anything.” He had no idea how to ask if Alessandro was hungover. His eyes were a little red and his breath smelled like sour limes, but he didn’t look like he was about to vomit.
“I’m feeling it a little bit. Food will help.” Alessandro moved his hips, and his morning wood brushed Jaime’s inner thigh.
Grinning, Jaime reached down and stroked the length of the dick he liked so much, eliciting a shuddering groan from the owner. “Think anything else will help?”
“God, yeah.”
Jaime pushed Alessandro over onto his back and straddled his stomach. He wasn’t hard yet, himself, but he’d get there soon enough. He kissed his way down Alessandro’s chest, exploring the curves and muscles and lovely caramel skin, until he could take Alessandro’s erection into his mouth.
