Page 81 of Summer Lessons
Terry’s fingers on his lips stopped the recitation. “You don’t think that’s… that’sallyou are to me, right?” he asked anxiously. “You… youknowyou’re more to me than a thing to do on a certain day,right?”
His eyes were unreadable in the darkness, but Mason took a risk and hoped there was sincerity there. “I want to be everything,” he whispered, just so Terry knew where they could go. “You have a lot on your plate. You don’t have to go there until you’re ready.”
Terry gasped and traced delicate, tender lines on Mason’s face with his fingertips. “Why?” he asked, confused. “Why would you want to be so important to me?”
The word ached in Mason’s throat. “I’ll let you know why if it happens,” he said. He claimed Terry’s mouth then, that sweet, wide, impudent mouth, and slipped his tongue between Terry’s lips.
Their dance was gentle, giving and taking, Mason baiting Terry until Terry gave back in assertiveness, intensity.
When Terry took over the kiss, cupping Mason’s neck, body hard against Mason’s and imposing in his space, his taste, his passion, his assertion—it was the lovemaking of someone whomeantit.
Mason allowed himself to be swept into the fantasy, to be overpowered and led. Terry kissed him backward, pulling down the covers and pushing him to the bed, then kissing along his neck until he got to the collar of his T-shirt.
He paused for a moment, sprawled across Mason while he played with Mason’s sensitive nipples through the thin microfiber.
“You know, right?” he asked, sounding plaintive and lost.
“Know what?” Mason asked back.
“That… that you’re important. The way I feel about you—that’s… that’s not how I’ve felt aboutanybody. I mean, you’ve had relationships and boyfriends and—”
“And nobody like you,” Mason said simply. He couldn’t think, now, about other times he’d saidI love youto someone. They made him want to hide his head in shame, because he couldn’t have possibly meant it, not then. He figured that maybe the reasons all those other times failed was because never, not once in all those years, had he felt likethis.
Like he’d die if Terry didn’t feel the same.
“Why?” Terry sat up and helped Mason out of his T-shirt, and then they both kicked off their shorts and flip-flops. “Why? What’s so different about me?”
“You don’t obsess about which wine goes with which meat,” Mason said, rolling over so his naked body covered Terry’s. He kissed to Terry’s ear and bit softly, then continued. “You learned golf when you thought you’d hate it.” And down that smooth-shaven throat to a vulnerable collarbone. He nipped a couple of times. “You didn’t ask questions when my brother lost his shit.” No. He hadn’t. He’d just let Mason fuck him blind. “You are kind when you don’t need to be, and funny because you like to laugh, and you don’t humor me in bed, you just take what you want and give back.”
He finished on a rush, the unabashed sentimentality making him want to hide his face, but the only place to hide was on the taut plane of Terry’s stomach, and only the skin was soft.
Terry massaged his fingers through Mason’s hair in reassurance. “You… you could have anybody,” he said hesitantly.
Mason laved his belly button and then lapped delicately at the sensitive underside of his cock, tasting soap and salt and Terry. He gave the bell a quick suck and then pulled away, regarding Terry seriously up the length of his star-pale body.
“I don’t want anybody,” Mason said, knowing he sounded plaintive but unable to change it. “I wantyou.When you want me back like that, let me know.”
He turned his head and sucked again, this time slow and hard, swirling his tongue at the end. “I want you,” he whispered, taking that sweet length into his mouth again, pulling until the head was lodged in his throat. He pulled back and wrapped his fist around it, squeezing the same way he sucked, the way Terry liked it, while he tortured the slit with his tongue. “You.”
Terry grunted, pleading, and pulled his knees up, spreading his thighs, exposing himself to Mason’s lovemaking, trusting—as no one ever had—that Mason could do things right.
Mason wanted to doallthe things right.
He shoved at Terry’s thighs and nuzzled, pulling one testicle at a time into his mouth while Terry battered his fists against the mattress. Mason spread his cheeks after that, and licked, finding him clean and sensitive.
He sort of loved rimming Terry—he got vocal and encouraging as nobody ever had before. “Yeah, there. Love that. Like, stretch it. With your fingers—ooooh—that’s right. God, keep going. I’m lovin’ that—yes! Stretch, that’s right, wider! More! Hit that—augh, yes!—spot!”
Mason would die to follow his orders.
Finally Terry clenched his fingers in Mason’s hair, and his body started to shake uncontrollably. “Now, Mason—please, now!”
They kept the lube under the pillow. Mason could slick up so quick, Terry didn’t even have to know he’d gone missing.
This time Terry rolled to his side, pulling one knee up in blatant exposure and begging. “Hard, Mason. Hard. Just you inside me—just, just hold me and fuck me and make it hard!”
Yes!Terry’s clench around Mason’s erection was all that heaven could hope for. Mason started pumping slow at first, but Terry couldn’t deal with hard and slow.
“Faster—oh, dammit Mace,faster. Take me over, take all of me, fuck me till Iscream!”
