Page 63 of Twice Shy

“They’re heavy sleepers.” Ollie scooted closer and Joel gathered him in. Soft sweatshirt, firm body beneath: it was a heady combination and ran through him like a shot of whiskey. “Hmm,” Ollie breathed, bumping their noses together, then brushing his lips across Joel’s mouth. Firm fingers trailed over his groin, and his rapidly filling cock, as Ollie smiled against his lips. “Definitely ‘up’ for it.”

Not whiskey, Joel decided, as his brain filled with fizz: champagne. Kissing Ollie was as heady as a good champagne. He leaned back, taking Ollie with him, until they were sprawled together on the small sofa, lips locked and hands sliding under sweaters and shirts in search of warm skin. Ollie’s lips began working along the line of Joel’s jaw, soft kisses and nibbles until he found the lobe of Joel’s ear and sucked gently. Joel bit down on his startled shout, hands fisting the back of Ollie’s sweater as he rode the intense sensation. “God,” he growled. “God, do that—ah, God, yes.”

Ollie laughed, a soft sweet sound right next to his ear, and continued his assault. Why his earlobe should have a direct line to his cock, Joel didn’t know, but those soft, nibbling kisses had Joel close to coming and he hadn’t even unbuttoned his jeans. Maybe it was magic. Maybe it was just Ollie.

“Fuck, you’re responsive,” Ollie said, sitting up and unbuttoning his jeans with an urgency that matched Joel’s thundering heart.

“Because you’re a damned magician.” Joel’s hands felt clumsy as he fumbled his own fly open and freed his straining cock with a grunt of relief.

With a soft laugh, Ollie reached for him, a long, slow stroke with his magic fingers. “What do you want?”

Everything. That was the simple answer.I want to touch you, to be touched. To be intimate in every sense of the word.His gaze flicked over Ollie’s shoulder toward the corner of wall that hid the kids’ bedroom door. “They really won’t wake up?”

“Not likely.”

Hell, but it added a strange kind of frightening frisson to proceedings. Speed, Joel decided, was of the essence. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be good. He pushed himself up, dislodging Ollie who laughed as he tipped sideways against the back of the sofa. Joel slid down onto the floor, onto his knees. He looked up. “You like this?”

Ollie’s eyes were round and dark, a delicious flush of pink rising along his cheekbones—desire, not embarrassment. “Fuck, yes,” he said in a low voice, and settled enthusiastically on the sofa with Joel between his thighs.

What a view he had of that nicely formed cock standing to attention, and the anticipatory flutter of Ollie’s abs as Joel kneeled up to taste the moisture beading at the tip. “Good,” he murmured. It had been a long time since he’d done this, but it had always been a pleasure—something rare and special. More intimate than anything else, because of the level of trust involved on both sides. He licked the head of Ollie’s cock, relishing the sound of his sharp indrawn breath, then kissed him there, generous and open mouthed.

Ollie flexed beneath him, probably struggling to keep his hips still. “Joel…” God, that voice, sweet and soft and pleading.

He kissed him again, taking him deeper, caressing with tongue and lips. Just the head, teasing him. Ollie’s fingers gripped his hair, the slight tug sparking sensation down his spine to his own eager cock. Reaching down, he gave himself a couple of careful strokes to ease the tension, and then returned his focused to Ollie. He glanced up under his lashes and found Ollie’s gaze locked on him, lips slightly parted and glossed by the tip of his tongue, eyes lust-blown to black, dark curls falling across his forehead, and his chest rising and falling quickly. Delicious, debauched, devastating.

Closing his eyes, Joel took him as deep as he could go, humming his pleasure as Ollie gasped and writhed, fingers knotting harder in Joel’s hair. “GodohGodohfuck…”

And then Joel went for it, fast and deep. And, God, the sounds Ollie made—high, urgent gasps of surprised pleasure. They drove Joel wild. Everything about Ollie drove him wild.

He could feel his own orgasm building; it had been there from the first touch of Ollie’s fingers through the rough fabric of his jeans, the first brush of their lips. And it was rising fast, even with his cock largely untouched. Everything was tensing and burning.

“Joel.” Ollie tugged at his hair urgently. “Gonna come…” Joel resisted the pull at his hair, went down deep again, cupped his hand beneath Ollie’s tightening balls. “Jesus!” Ollie gasped, and Joel pulled off just in time to see him arch back, hips lifting off the sofa as the first pulse of his release erupted. Breathless, Joel slid his hand around Ollie’s cock, worked him through his orgasm, transfixed by Ollie’s screwed shut eyes and the intense mewls of pleasure leaving his gasping mouth.

When Ollie finally collapsed, catching his breath, Joel leaned in and kissed the tender juncture of groin and thigh. He could feel Ollie trembling and a great wash of affection rushed over him. He wrapped his arms around Ollie’s waist and kissed the sharp arch of his hipbone, eyes closed, breathing in his warmth and scent.

“Hey,” Ollie said after a while, fondling Joel’s hair. When he looked up, Ollie opened his arms in invitation, face soft and smiling. “Come here.”

He did, settling on the sofa as Ollie crawled into his lap, nuzzling at his neck and jaw, biting at his earlobe with tender teeth as he took Joel’s cock in his hand. It took no time at all to bring him off, not with that joint assault of ear and cock, and Ollie’s languid body in his arms. Joel came with a hot gasp, bucking up into Ollie’s firm grip, holding him tight in his arms and burying his face into Ollie’s neck. It was so painfully sweet, Joel could have cried; he felt the emotion rise like the tide, overwhelming him. And the effort of holding it in check tore open his heart, releasing something raw and frightening that he’d kept locked away for a long time.

He dared not give it a name.

For long dreamy minutes afterward they drowsed in each other’s arms until, eventually, Ollie snuffled a laugh into Joel’s shoulder and sat up, yawning. “We should clean up.”

They were a sight, the pair of them, rumpled and half out of their pants, but Joel felt too suffused with bliss—with happiness, God help him—to really care. Nevertheless, he let Ollie take his hand and tug him up off the sofa, leading him into the bathroom. He borrowed a wash cloth and cleaned up, washed his hands and caught sight of himself in the mirror: hair tousled from Ollie’s frantic grip, his face and lips still flushed, mouth fixed into the helpless smile Ollie provoked.

“I love seeing you like this,” Ollie said from behind him. Their eyes met in the mirror and Ollie smiled. “Unbuttoned—literally and figuratively.” His eyes glittered, but they were warm with amusement. Fond, even.

Joel felt fond too, very fond. He dried his hands and turned around, catching Ollie around the waist and pulling him in. He kissed him softly, letting his affection swell. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, with more honesty than was comfortable. “I didn’t think I could feel like this again.” He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite like this, not this heady mix of sexual and romantic attraction.

Ollie smiled at him, looping his arms around Joel’s neck. “Feel like what?”

“Spellbound.”

“Spellbound.” He said the word like he was tasting it. “Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

Joel kissed him again, body melting into the contact as they pressed together from chest to toe, fingers tangling in each other’s hair. Impossibly, Joel felt his cock taking an interest. But he had to leave now; it was late already. Reluctantly, he pulled back. “I should get going.”

Try as he did to hide it, there was no mistaking the flash of disappointment in Ollie’s eyes. “You can’t stay the night?”

---