Page 108 of Smoky Mountain Dreams
Jesse’s balls wrenched and he groaned as pleasure burst overhim, his nipples tingling and stomach clenched as he rammed up into Christopher’sass and shot his load. He cried out, head thrown back, and Christopher’srelentless riding milked him as he trembled through a mind-numbing orgasm.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Christopher chanted, his hand stripping athis cock quickly, his green eyes blown wide and his red mouth open and wet. “Ugh,fuck, gotta just…need a little…oh, Jesse, fuck, yes—”
Jesse jerked in surprise as hot, thick stripes of jizzlanded on his chest and stomach while Christopher moaned and quivered over him,gasping and flushed, eyes glazed over and his thighs and stomach trembling. Itwas the hottest thing Jesse had ever seen. Though as soon as he thought it, hisbrain reminded him of a dozen other hot moments with Christopher, each so goodit was hard to compare.
“Oh, Jesse,” Christopher moaned as he collapsed down onJesse’s chest, his ass still clenching around Jesse’s over-sensitive cock. “I…it’sjust…so good.”
“Yeah.” Jesse wrapped his arms around Christopher’sshoulders and kissed his stubble-scratchy cheek. “So good.”
“Can you put your fingers…?”
Jesse rolled Christopher onto his back and slid his handdown to insert a few fingers into Christopher’s ass.
Christopher sighed in pleasure and whispered, “That’s reallygood. Helps me come down.”
“Yeah,” Jesse knew that and had always done it for the guyshe fucked years ago. He’d done it before for Christopher, but havingChristopher ask him for it touched something inside him deeply. He feltaffection tightening his chest until he had to bury his face in Christopher’sneck, breathing in his sweet scent while his fingers gently moved inChristopher’s body.
Chapter Twenty-one
CHRISTOPHERWAS SUNK DEEP INTOthe soft mattress as he studied Jesse’s bedroom whileJesse, exhausted, snored. Burgundy walls, the color of watered-down wine, andcream trim, along with wild paintings of jungle animals and jungle landscapes.It seemed nothing like Jesse’s taste at all. Christopher wondered if Marcy hadchosen the décor. Perhaps that had been the agreement—the bedroom fit herpersonality and his home office fit his.
It felt a little creepy being in her space. He wondered ifit had crossed Jesse’s mind at all during the sex or after, because this wasthe room he’d slept in with Marcy—on this very mattress probably. They’dprobably brought their babies home to this bedroom and kept them in a bassinetby their bed. They’d snuggled here, and laughed here, and now Christopher wasin that bed naked, and still feeling the ghost-sensation of Marcy’s husband’scock up his ass.
Christopher swallowed hard against the sensation thatsomehow she could see him—that she was watching and judging him. Closing hiseyes and seeking the intimacy they’d shared not long ago, Christopher shiftedin the sheets and reached out to run his fingers through Jesse’s chest hair. Hesmiled when Jesse sighed in his sleep and covered Christopher’s hand with his,pressing it down against his heart. The steady beat felt present and reassuringunder his palm.
Closing his eyes, Christopher let it insinuate its rhythminto his consciousness, stamping out the dread and overlaying it with love. Asong started in his head, something tender and intimate, something about lovingtwo people at once, but the lyrics buzzed right outside his grasp, though themelody descended on him like a lapping, gentle wave.
He gently disengaged his hand from Jesse’s grip and slowlyslid from the bed. He pulled on Jesse’s track pants, discarded by the bed inthe heat of the moment earlier, and found they fit perfectly despite the factthat Jesse’s stomach was hard and tight while his own was softer in appearance.He looked back at Jesse in bed when he reached the door, his face soft andsweet in sleep, and the darkness of stubble on his cheek seeming even darker inthe shadows.
Carefully, Christopher padded down the stairs and once againmade a wrong turn, ending up in the living room. He retraced his steps, findinghis way to the piano room, as he called it in his head. He sat down on thebench and uncovered the keys, the sensation of Jesse’s heartbeat still echoingin the nerves of his palm as he closed his eyes and let the melody come to him.
And then,pianissimo, he began toplay, his fingers gentle on the keys. He needed to feel the music come from hishands, to rely on muscle memory as well. His mind was too untrustworthy. Therehad been far too many melodies that had come to him at the edge of sleep, and,certain that it was such a strong one there was no way he’d forget, he’d wokenthe next morning only to find it completely lost.
The melody gained its footing, and Christopher closed hiseyes, letting it take him through several improvisations of chorus and bridge,seeking the perfect notes to take him to the place where the words would siftdown to him like blessings. Eventually, the first lyrics came to him, and hewhisper-sang them again and again: a line about a ghost and a living heart,tied together, never free.
When Christopher was sure he’d memorized the melody, hisfingers played the notes automatically, and he was certain no more words wouldbe forthcoming, he sat back, pressed his palm to his mouth and pushed out histongue to see if he could taste Jesse’s heartbeat still echoing on his skin.
At the sound of a throat clearing behind him, Christopheryelled and banged his knee against the piano, causing it to explode with sound.He whirled around to see Jesse leaning naked against the door jamb, his eyesdark with sleepiness, and a soft smile on his face.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Christopher rubbed his knee and shook his head, laughingshakily, his heart pounding madly from the fright. “Holy shit! I thought youwere asleep!”
“I was. But I’m a father. My ears are attuned to hear everysmall shuffle or bang or creak or cough. You never know when you’ll be calledfor in the middle of the night when you’ve got kids.”
“I didn’t realize. I just…this song showed up. I didn’t wantto lose it.”
“I’m glad. It was beautiful. Do you need a piece of paper towrite anything down?”
“No, I have it now.” Feeling a little embarrassed to havebeen observed during his creative process, Christopher covered the keys againand stood, yawning. “I can probably sleep now.”
“Oh, sure,” Jesse said, teasing. “Wake a guy, get him allworked up watching you play piano shirtless, and then just go to sleep. Such atease.”
Christopher approached him with a smile and whispered, “You’reone to talk, lounging in doorways completely naked. Besides, I’m totally easyand never a tease. I thought you knew that by now.”
Jesse grinned and took Christopher’s hand. “What do you saywe go back to my bed?”
Christopher remembered the wine-red walls, the vibrantpaintings, and the sense that it was Marcy’s room more than Jesse’s. Hehesitated, and a click sounded in the back of his throat as he swallowed.
