Page 26 of This or That
Why was I hesitant this whole time?
His taut frame slumps a bit, and a sly smile forms at the corner of his lips when my fingers grip the waistband of his boxer briefs and set him free. My heart skips a beat. I stick my tongue out to wet the pad of my thumb and gently circle the head of his cock, which pulsates with every stroke. Who would have thought that another guy’s package could be such a turn-on? “You are so beautiful.”
A deep chuckle escapes his sexy mouth. He mouths a thank you that settles deep in my gut. Matteo’s words from earlier tonight come to mind. Words that made me touch him before I could stop myself.
Yes, Troy, you brought an extraje ne sais quoiinto my life, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Soon enough, the tip of my tongue replaces my thumb and I get acquainted with his masculine scent that drives me crazy. Let the frenzy begin!
Why was I hesitant this whole time?
While my tongue swirls around his crown, my hand circles his girth, finding a rhythm as I jerk him off. Maintaining eye contact, I apply the pressure that I’d enjoy, hoping that he does, too. My answer comes in the form of a thunderous grunt. That’s all the encouragement I need to take him in my mouth, although I’m incapable of deep-throating like he does. I guess it takes practice; I’m up for the challenge.
He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, his head falling back against the metal panel. All this time, he bucks his pelvis and moves in time with my ministrations.
Occasionally, I release him with a popping sound that lightens the charged air.
“Such a tease, you are.” We breathe in sync.
I kiss his tip and witness his reaction with bliss. “Yup!” I wink and carry on with my TLC. He mumbles something that I don’t catch over all the little noises we make.
Each time my hand gets close to his balls, my thumb rubs them. It’s so fucking arousing to make a grown-ass man moan. The more I suck him, the more I stop analyzing my actions. My brain is disconnected from my body, or rather hyperconnected, considering my boner. My free hand that grasped the back of his thigh for balance flies to my crotch. As much as I wish I could relieve the agonizing pressure, touching myself while blowing him would be stupid. My focus is on him. My tongue plays with him. My hand torments him. My own release can wait, although I might end up creaming my pants like a preteen; who cares? For now, all that matters is Troy. And, yes, I’m turned on like never before. From blowing a guy. Nah, blowing this particular guy. My guy?
“Oh, fuck!” His fingers tangle in my hair. “I… Yeah… do that again.” I oblige, running my tongue along his length while softly pinching his balls. “Harder.”
With that, he moves faster and loses all semblance of control. My pulse races when I feel him tightening against my fingers. My name rolling off his tongue sends me into overdrive, and I don’t back away when he warns me that he’s close. Now is not the time to chicken out, right?
We lock eyes as he stills, sweat trickling down his temple. Unfazed by my decision, I drink every drop of him. Unfazed by his taste, I lick my lips to tease him some more. Unfazed by our attraction, I finally grasp that Troy means more to me than I care to admit. Spent, his next words are barely audible, but the air shifts as my eyes remain glued to him while I blindly search for the button to restart the elevator.
Why was I hesitant this whole time?
“Only you.”
Chapter 17
Come Wake Me Up
Troy
“You’re welcome to join me, you know.” Pressing my elbow on the mattress, I will myself to rise above the lethargy. Supporting my head with my splayed palm, I lie on my left side, my hungry eyes roaming over his appetizing body. The view is partially blocked since we’re wearing boxer briefs to keep from going at it again. That’s what we’ve been doing all day, and it’s past five now. What a great way to spend a Saturday!
I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the spectacular view; yes, he’s hot as fuck, but most of all, he’s become such an essential part of my life.
A satisfied grin on his face, Mike catches his breath, lying on his back in my bed, where we spent our lazy day. The last one of September, which means that next week’s my birthday, and I’m debating whether to disclose that piece of information. Does he even care?
Eyes closed, his fingers are laced behind his head. I take him in, memorizing how he looks at this very moment, as if he’d vanish out of thin air or ghost me like he once did. It may be stupid, but this nagging notion keeps rearing its ugly head. Not today.
His light brown hair has grown longer and wavier over the last few months, lessening the resemblance to Channing Tatum. Unless it’s because I now know the real Michael Clayton, despite being away every so often for a gig.
“Nah, I think I’ll pass this time. Plus, I already have dinner plans with Matteo.” Mike rolls onto his stomach and attacks my lips like his life depends on it. One kiss and I was hooked. Funny how our kisses always have an extraje ne sais quoi, as Matteo would say.
When he resumes his position, I take a wild guess. “You afraid to meet my new friends or what? Or is it because Studio 45 isn’t aregularclub?” Of course, I air quote the word I picked to sidestep what I actually meant: straight. Funny that I told him that there shouldn’t be any taboo words between us, but I can’t seem to follow my own rule.
At once, he grabs the bottle of water that I left on the nightstand, takes a swig, then mirrors my posture. A smile crinkles the corners of his green eyes. “You’ve told me so much about Studio 45 that I’d love to see it with my own eyes, even though I’m not into the music.” Yeah, Mike’s been open about dislike of electro, which he associates with club music. “I’m sorry I always have prior engagements when you invite me.” He ruffles my hair, his hand settling on my cheek next. Out of reflex, his thumb caresses my neck behind my ear. I used to hate these displays of affection. I crave them with Mike, but you’d have to torture me to grant it. “Honestly, Claire and her purple dreadlocks sound like a lot of fun. As for her friend, Drake, thanks to your description of Dracula on steroids, I decided that he’s a fictional character.” I snicker at that. “I wonder when this meetup is going to happen now that my dream job’s taking up all my time!”
I congratulated him when he landed it two weeks ago; it’s not every day that a famous fashion designer calls you with good news. Mike stressed that his parents’ connections had nothing to do with it. It’s cute how he stubbornly ignores how names can also open doors. I’m not saying that he doesn’t deserve the job; his sketches prove that he’s freaking talented. Anyway, I’m happy that he’s happy and won’t comment on the luxury that he could afford to stay unemployed this long without financial issues. I could’ve done the same to some extent if I’d followed my parents’ rules.No, thank you…But I digress.
“Why don’t I meet your friends after work next week?” Yeah, I, too, have a steady job. I opted to play it safe. Though gigs can bring good money, experience has told me that there’s no guarantee it’ll last. Money’s always been a thorn in my side, and I’m glad that my head’s not in the clouds or I might have burned through it already instead of investing it in my Park Slope apartment.
