Page 65 of Don't Point at the Moon

Mitchell had lowered his head and sucked on Tommy’s big toe. Rarely in his life had Tommy been lost for words. But at that moment he lay back and allowed his body and mind to switch off, to succumb to the sensations. Strong but careful fingertips brushed his gooseflesh, soft lips kissed the sensitive skin behind his knees and his inner thigh and sensual raindrops fell from the skies. After humming his approval, Tommy gasped when Mitchell began to use his talented tongue to lick the crevasse between his ass cheeks and moisten his entrance. Soon, a finger joined the tongue and slipped inside, heading directly for his sweet spot.

Tommy wasn’t used to being prepared with such care and wanted to shout at Mitchell to hurry up and cut to the chase, but Mitchell knew what he was doing, stroke by careful stroke. Every time the build-up of sensations stopped abruptly and Tommy raised his head with irritation, he saw Michell’s gaze burning into him.

“Bastard,” muttered Tommy.

Mitchell grinned before moving up Tommy’s body until they came face to face. After a tender gaze, he brought their mouths together. Tommy lifted his head and deepened the kiss while bringing his legs up to clamp around Mitchell’s naked midriff to hold him in place.

Tommy had been with enough men to recognise a generous lover. Mitchell wanted to focus on pleasing him, listening and feeling for signs of pleasure, raking fingertips down his body, squeezing the flesh and nuzzling nooks. Each time Tommy reacted appeared to fuel Mitchell’s own fire, and finally Tommy felt a firm pressure against his entrance. Once again, Mitchell looked intently into Tommy’s eyes as he moved his hips slowly forward. This time, Tommy surprised a groan out of Mitchell by tightening the grip of his legs. Once Mitchell had slid fully inside and stopped, they both gasped with surprise. Tommy had been with more endowed men, but Mitchell filled him, the feeling natural even with the condom.

Mitchell began a slow rhythm without breathing a word, never dropping his gaze from Tommy’s. He moved his hips fluidly, the sensual dance occasionally pushing in different directions until his cock ignited a spot inside Tommy that made his eyes flutter wide and a slight gasp escape him. Mitchell smiled at the reaction and lifted Tommy’s ankles onto his shoulders. Tommy squeezed his eyes closed, threading his arms around Mitchell’s neck and pulling his head onto his shoulder. His erection, which had returned to life, repeatedly rubbed up against Mitchell’s firm navel. They fit together perfectly, their chests touching, Mitchell’s upper body swamping his own.

Just as Tommy felt the delicious tightness of what promised to be an intense climax begin to erupt, Mitchell stopped moving. Tommy’s eyes flew open with irritation to find Mitchell’s face hovering over his again, smiling slyly.

“Iwillkill you,” said Tommy.

Mitchell laughed aloud before his gaze darkened and he resumed the dance. This time, they almost finished together. Tommy came undone, groaning loudly, shooting a sticky mess between them. Mitchell climaxed moments later, soundlessly, his whole body shuddering on top of Tommy, warmth filling the condom. They stayed glued together until Mitchell withdrew very slowly and carefully and lay next to Tommy. Neither spoke for so long that Tommy began to drift off into a post-coital slumber.

“I should go,” said Mitchell, sitting on the side of the bed and reaching for his underpants.

“Or you could stay.” Mitchell looked almost as surprised as Tommy felt at the words he had spoken, but he meant every one. “I mean, if you want.”

“I do, I really do. But Zane flies home tomorrow—” said Mitchell, pulling on his underpants before squinting at his watch face. “I mean, today. And I need to be there for him. Help get him organised.”

Tommy nodded his understanding and pulled himself to sitting, watching Mitchell putting on each item of clothing, unexpectedly savouring the view, especially when Mitchell turned to grin shyly at him. Once fully clothed, he came around the side of the bed and perched at the end by Tommy’s feet before bringing a wrapped box from his jacket pocket.

“What’s this?” asked Tommy, leaning forward to accept the artfully wrapped gift.

“A small present. To celebrate your birthday.”

Tommy opened the packaging to find a Tom Ford Eau de Parfum bottle. Like a kid at Christmas, Tommy ripped away the cellophane wrapping. After pulling the bottle from the box and spraying a slight mist onto the inside of his wrist, he inhaled the distinctive scent.

“This is too much, Mitchell,” he said, grinning. “You didn’t need to do this.”

“I know, but I wanted to. I was short with you after the boat trip and this is my way of apologising as well as celebrating your significant birthday. I also wanted to prove to you that I do listen. Tom Ford is your favourite, after all. It’s not the most expensive—heavens, the price of some are more than I earn in a month—but I’m reliably informed this is a classic.”

Tommy took another sniff, and when Mitchell stood up, readying to leave, Tommy’s heart sank. He wanted to say something more, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Look, Tommy,” said Mitchell. “I don’t want you to think this has created any expectations or messed with my head. If this was just a one-time thing, then I’m fine with that. I’m really glad we had this night together, but I know where your heart lies. I’m just grateful to have my friend back.”

“Me too,” was all that Tommy said, even though he wanted to say so much more. Instead, he looked up into Mitchell’s smiling eyes.

“And I’ll even agree to you giving me a makeover for your sister’s wedding.”

“You will?” said Tommy, his eyes lighting up.

“I will.”

Mitchell stopped in the doorway and turned back, a pained look on his face.

“Just, please, Tommy. Promise me you won’t dye my hair blond.”

“I promise.”

Chapter Seventeen

As quietly as possible, Mitchell opened the door to his darkened apartment. In the taxi on the way home, he’d been tempted to text Tommy to tell him how much he had enjoyed their one and only night together, but he’d decided not to complicate things. Besides, being almost three in the morning, Tommy would most likely be asleep. Smiling to himself, Mitchell couldn’t remember the last time he’d done the walk of shame but he felt entirely unrepentant, as though his physical union with Tommy had somehow broken down an internal emotional barrier.

No lights shone in the apartment or from beneath Zane’s door. Even so, Mitchell crept across to his bedroom in darkness and only switched on the bed lamp once he had closed his bedroom door. As he undressed for the second time that night, he gave himself a self-satisfied smile in the wall mirror before climbing into bed.

---