Page 34 of The Hang Up

“Joshua.” I’d barely gotten started, and he was already so needy. That made everything easier. I focused on getting Brock to make the sounds again and again. And not worrying about messing it up. I pulled his underwear down to his ankles, and he held on to my shoulders and stepped out of them.

I ran my hands up his strong legs, thinking about that day in the restaurant and how much I’d wanted this. I placed soft kisses up the side of his cock and then ran my tongue over the entire length. I tried to swallow him down in one go and choked. I pulled off, and he let out a strangled laugh.

“Sorry,” I said. Trying again, I took a little at a time, sucking him as I tested my limits. I tried not to bite as I sucked, bobbing up and down. It was sexy and hot, but the angle was awkward because I was taller than him. I tried to get a rhythm going as I coaxed those noises out of him.

Brock tightened his grip on my hair and started thrusting. And holy hell. Brock fucking my mouth was a huge turn-on and definitely what I needed. I hollowed my cheeks as I sucked and realized I was missing out on an opportunity. An opportunity to touch him. His ass. His balls. As I explored, he spread his legs, giving me better access. I rubbed my finger against his hole and thought about fucking him. My excitement had me sucking and slurping on his cock like I couldn’t get enough.

“Babe,” he said, his words mostly sounds. “Not. Um. Last.”

He expected me to pull off, but I really wanted him to come in my mouth. I wanted to swallow it all. I was sure I could do it.

I was wrong. I seriously underestimated how much there would be and how much I could take. I swallowed as much as I could, but much of it leaked out of my mouth. When he pulled off, he looked down at me. It was everywhere. Running down my face. All over his cock. My body. His body. I stood up, thankful for the towel and the pillow, and Brock grabbed me and kissed me, sucking the cum off my lips and out of my mouth. It was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever experienced.

It took a few minutes for me to catch my breath. “Sloppy enough for you?”

He wrapped his arms around my neck and chewed on his lip. “You’ve adequately proven your inadequacy.”

“Hey,” I said with a pout. “I thought I did pretty good for my first time.”

“You were amazing. Enthusiastic. Fucking gorgeous on your knees for me with cum spilling out of your mouth. So good.” He grinned. “And I’m willing to work with you on your technique.”

I kissed him, biting his lip. And then kissed him a few more times.

He glanced down, and his smile dropped. “What about you?”

I was still hard. I’d almost come untouched just from watching him. But I wanted this to be about him and not about me.

He shook his head as if he could read my thoughts. “Come on. My turn. Let me take care of that for you.”

And he did. He touched me in places no man had ever touched. He touched me like no one had ever touched me. As if it meant something. As if I was special and getting this chance to touch me was special. And it was all so new, yet it felt right. Like something I’d been waiting for.

I’d imagined him touching me many times over the last couple of months. But his hands were smaller. Firmer. And with so much enthusiasm. I could never have imagined the noises he made. The smell of sex and our bodies. His cheeks flushed with excitement. Or his blissed-out expression when he came. After all the buildup and how much I wanted this, I didn’t last very long at all.

We cleaned up, and I asked him to stay. And for a moment, I was worried he wouldn’t. Then he curled up next to me, announced that I could be the big spoon this time, and fell asleep.

As Brock slept beside me, his dark lashes and serene face had me feeling things. Protective, romantic, gooey things. I gently kissed the freckle on his shoulder. I needed to sleep, but I couldn’t. My mind wouldn’t shut up. It was pointing out a few things.

I’m definitely into men.

I’m definitely into this man.

And I could finally dismiss the ideas that Victoria had put in my head years ago that I hadn’t believed but had still worried were true. That I’d wanted a sports car because of some midlife crisis and wanting to hold on to my youth. She’d even remarked that I should get me a young thing so I could really lean into the cliché. She’d already left me at that point, so I hadn’t been sure what her problem was, except that it made her feel better to put me down. And I was fairly sure she’d meant a young female thing and not a guy. Not our son’s best friend.

But I hadn’t been going through a midlife crisis back then. I loved my Corvette. It was a kickass car I couldn’t have afforded when I was younger and wasn’t allowed to have when I got older. “What would people think, Joshua?” But I hadn’t given a flying fuck what people thought back then, and except for a few, I didn’t care what people thought now.

A part of me had worried that she’d been right. But being with Brock, I realized that none of it was true. Touching him. Kissing him. Taking care of him. It wasn’t an experiment or a way to feel better about myself. Brock was good. Sweet. Sexy. And he challenged me without putting me down. I loved that he could take care of himself, but sometimes, he let me be the one to take care of him. Brock wasn’t a phase. He was everything I’d ever wanted.

Was I everything he wanted? Or needed? He’d had a crush on me for so long. What if now that he’d gotten me, it would be easy to forget me and move on? Wouldn’t that be the best thing for him? To move on and find out what he really wanted? Find someone his own age? What if the dream of me kept him from finding love? Was I really going to hold him back?

But as much work as I’d done on this redemption tour of becoming a better person, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t push Brock away again.

He was mine for as long as he would have me.

* * *

The next morning,I was worn out. I didn’t have the energy for anything more than sleeping in.

My phone buzzed with an incoming call. But it was out of reach on the nightstand, and I was too comfortable.

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