Page 7 of Pages of My Heart
He takes off, the little bell above the door tinkling as he strides out of the diner and heads down the road. Thomas is close behind, the sounds of his steps both determined and persistent. Charlie shouldn’t have been so harsh, shouldn’t have lost hiscool. All he wanted was to see Thomas one more time, and he’s screwed it all up.
When he reaches a narrow alleyway, he turns up it and pushes on, away from the busy street. It comes to a dead end, making it secluded and absent of prying eyes. He stops and waits. When Thomas comes to a rest behind him moments later, he turns.
“I’m sorry. I got a temper like my pops.”
“It’s all right. I’m sorry too. I guess I’m just . . .” Thomas sighs, bowing his head. He looks deflated, like all his joyful innocence has rushed out of him on a single breath. “I guess I’m just jealous.”
Glancing up the alley to be sure no one is around, Charlie reaches out and gently lifts Thomas’s chin, forcing the redhead to look at him.
“Don’t be. I’ll try to come on Saturday night. I promise. But after I get hitched . . . well, it just wouldn’t be right to continue.”
“But Charlie . . .”
Thomas’s disappointment is plain in the slouch of his shoulders and the dullness of his voice. And Charlie is battling his own demons. Until last Saturday, he had accepted his fate and was ready to settle down into a loveless marriage. Now, he’s filled with an inner conflict he fears he doesn’t have the strength to bear. He wants Thomas more than any man should want another. It’s destructive and untenable—a force that frightens him like no other, not even his old man.
Grabbing Thomas, he drags him into a narrow alcove, shrouding them in darkness. He pushes Thomas against the wall and crashes their lips together. The pleasure that bursts forth from his chest is instant and all-consuming, and he moans brokenly as Thomas’s arms envelop him. The kiss is greedy and reckless, their lips and tongues fighting for what they need.Charlie cannot comprehend the fever that Thomas ignites inside of him.
“Charlie, please,” Thomas pants into his mouth.
Throwing away all sense, he grabs at Thomas’s belt, scrambling to get it undone. Thomas’s breath shudders when Charlie slides his hand down into the redhead’s briefs, taking him in hand. Thomas is already erect, his cock long and thick and leaking at the tip. Charlie’s filthy mind wants to take it into his mouth, to taste it and rub his face against the hardness. Instead, he presses his mouth back to Thomas’s and begins stroking him. Within seconds, Thomas is frantically trying to get at Charlie’s belt too.
“No, Red,” he says. “It’s already too risky. Just let me finish you.”
“Shh, shh.” Thomas cups Charlie’s face and gazes down at him with hooded eyes. “We can. Just keep quiet. Please, Charlie.”
Thomas’s hands return to Charlie’s belt and he unbuttons his pants, pushing both pants and briefs down to Charlie’s thighs so he’s completely exposed. Thomas circles his thumb around the head of his shaft, spreading the evidence of his lust over the sensitive tip. Charlie’s knees threaten to give out, but Thomas slips his other hand around his waist and holds him up.
Thomas kisses him gently, tenderly, the stroke of his hand matching that of his tongue, both slow and teasing. Charlie is so enamored that he almost forgets he wants to pleasure Thomas too.
“Let me see you,” he murmurs, pushing at Thomas’s clothes.
They rest their foreheads together, and Charlie looks down at their nakedness, a desperation overtaking him. They work eachother’s length, their breaths coming faster and faster as their climaxes approach.
“Oh Thomas,fuck—it feels so good,” he groans, completely unashamed and tumbling toward release.
“Charlie, I can’t stop it. I can’t.”
The moment he feels Thomas’s climax, he throws his arms around the redhead’s neck and kisses him madly. Then he releases too, clinging to Thomas, his body shaking violently.
Charlie has had one other man bring him to orgasm like this before, and once he let an old queen at the club use his mouth on him. But for all his bravado in front of Thomas, that is the extent of his sexual experiences with men. Regardless, he knows nothing will ever compare to the way Thomas O’Reilly makes him feel. His skin is feverish, his body thrumming with what can only be described as euphoria—his mind is free.
Thomas falls back against the brick wall, eyes closed and mouth open.
“Red, you all right?”
“That was amazing,” Thomas replies, eyes bright when he forces them open. “Incredible. You’re incredible,” he gushes, crowding back into Charlie’s space. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good, but we should hurry. We’ve risked too much already.”
They wipe themselves down as best they can and redress quickly. Charlie’s hands are shaking as he struggles to get his belt fastened.
“We should leave separately,” Charlie says, “so no one sees us coming outta the alley together.” He makes to leave, but big hands are holding firm to his hips.
“I never want to leave you, Charlie Miller.”
Charlie’s breath catches in his throat. Staring up into Thomas’s green eyes, brimming with affection, Charlie doesn’tknow what to do with that. Rather than ruin the moment, he says, “I’ll see you Saturday at the club. Ten o’clock.”
“Promise me.”
