Page 46 of Dangerous Pursuit
"Noooo," Xander whines and rolls to his stomach. His button-up has slipped from behind his waistband. There's no wrinkle-free inch left and Xander looks absolutely disheveled. "No more waiting. There wasn't any waiting in the cards."
I force myself to tear my eyes off him and jump out of bed to discard all the plastic shit I'm holding, because Xander's not the only one who's impatient. I pace to the desk, drop everything down and I'm just about to dart back to bed, tohimwhen an offensive yellow screams at me from the screen of the laptop in the corner, and it's only by chance it stays in my peripheral vision long enough and my subconscious deciphers one of the words scribbled on the post-it.
I stop in my tracks and every hair on my body stands up as I zero-in on the card and read it, once, twice, three times, and with every read a fresh wave of heat courses down my body and straight into my groin. I glance back to where Xander rolls around the now-tidy bed, paying me no mind, before I grab the card, clear my throat and recite the post-it from memory, my eyes focused on Xander's reaction. "Lube." Xander stops squirming, but still faces the mattress. "Buckets of it." He rolls around and looks straight at me now. "Gay porn. Stretching." A lot of things happen all at once. Xander's eyes grow cartoonishly huge, his cheeks darken about five shades, he jumps out of bed and toward me in what seems like a single, giant leap and snatches the post-it from between my fingers, almost tearing it up while I recite the last item, "Top slash bottom question mark."
"Privacy!" He snaps and proceeds to stick the card in the same place I found it in, out in it the open for anyone to see. "Ever heard of her?"
"Oh, no, no, no." My voice drips with amusement when Xander turns on his heel and goes. I move after him. To the kitchenette, to the beanbag chair, to the dresser, to the bed. In other words, I'm losing my shit, chasing him around his apartment like we’re twelve. "You're not getting out of this one."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, fleeing.
"Xander?" I rapidly change directions and for a second we're walking straight at each other before he realizes. "How much lube is buckets?"
"Shut up."
We're on either side of the table now. I feint left but go right and reach out, almost managing to grab the end of his shirt, fisting the air instead. "Please. I'll note it down if you tell me." I pick up my pace, and so does Xander. We circle the table three times before I halt, turn around and wait about half a second until Xander crashes against me and falls right into my arms. "Now don't be like that," I say, grinning, and tighten my embrace around him as he tries to squirm out of my hold.
Xander's still redder than a brick, but he produces a formal expression, shakes his head to get a few stray hairs off his forehead, making it even worse, and says, "Fine, be a jerk if you must. I just don't see what's so amusing about research." He then lifts his chin up as if to make a point.
God, he's precious.
"Amusing?" I mutter and relax my hold, slowly, in case he still feels like running away. After deciding he's not a flight risk anymore, I grab his hand and flatten his palm againstthe middle of my chest. "I never said it was amusing. In fact, Xander"—my voice drops half an octave and I relish in the sight of Xander's mouth falling open as I guide his palm down my bare abdomen, halting it an inch above my waist—"I'm a lot of things right now." I move his hand another inch. "But amused is not one of them."
***
Xander
FUNNY HOW ONE man can make me go from fuming, to hot and bothered, to out-of-my-mind embarrassed, to hot and bothered again all in the span on a single day, juggling my own emotional state and sense of self. No person should hold such power over another, yet here I am, my breaths coming heavy, my hand trapped between Liam's palm and the boner beneath the fabric of his cargo pants, fitting into my grip so perfectly it's actually scary.
"So, what's the answer?" Liam asks, his hot breath tickling my cheek as he guides my hand up and down his erection.
"Answer to what?" It's getting hard to focus on the conversation, the vastness of Liam's bare chest taking up my entire view.
"Top slash bottom, question mark."
"God," I mutter and drop my head, pressing my forehead against Liam's shoulder, my cheeks flaming, my cock twitchingat the sound of the words rolling off his tongue. "I haven't decided yet, honestly."
"Mmm, I see. It is an important, once-in-a-lifetime decision, you know. They make you sign a contract and all."
I chuckle against his skin and squeeze his dick, enjoying the way his body jerks up and the fact that it's because of my doing. Taking a step back, I glide my hand up, tracing his six-pack with the tips of my fingers until I reach his chest, flatten my palm there and push.
Liam takes the hint and moves. I follow, walking him back until he hits the nearest wall. My eyes are locked on Liam's as I move to slowly undo his pants. "I don't have all the data yet." After I open up his zipper, I hook my fingers around his belt loops and pull Liam's pants down, as low as I can, without kneeling. From the corner of my eye, I glimpse Liam's hard cock, trying to break free from the tight embrace of his black boxer briefs, but I refuse to break eye contact. "Do you mind being my test subject?"
His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His shoulders and the back of his head are pressed flush against the wall, like he's trying to restrain himself from… Well, I don't know what. But I'm sure dying to find out. "By all means. I wouldn't dream of messing with your education."
There's something about the way his voice shakes, about the stiffness of his frame, the gentle twitches of his muscles that's intoxicating. Something addictive about knowing his pleasure or lack thereof is in my control. Which I never thought I'd be into. Control is Liam's thing, after all. Maybe he's rubbing off on me. Or maybe the illusion of control is what I need to give myself the courage for what I'm about to do.
I look him in the eye my entire way down, vigilant, scared, even. Scared, because now that I'm on my knees it's suddenly a little too real, and maybe if I keep looking at his face, if I keep ignoring the pulsing cock mere two inches from my face I'll never have to find out if I'm any good at it. And that's only one of many, many doubts that have been plaguing my brain for the past few weeks, even more so now as I lift my shaking hands and pull on the waistband of Liam's boxer briefs.
The second the black fabric makes it past his hips, I can no longer pretend to be cool, my gaze shooting down to where Liam's cock stands strong, thick, flushed and glistening at the tip.
I let out a shaky exhale, a mild, somewhat familiar scent of pre-cum heating me up from the inside. My lips itch to taste it, and a part of me, the part that wouldn't shut up ever since I scribbled Blake's words on the post-it note and started contemplating the real meaning behind them, wants to lean down and swallow that dick whole, sexual identity crisis be damned. The other part is not that bold and keeps me stuck, sitting on my heels, my eyes darting to Liam's face to read him, to gauge his reactions. To seek encouragement, maybe even permission.
Damn, he looks divine, with his eyes half-closed and his entire body shaking, responding to the tiniest of movements I make. Liam looks at me, but his eyes are heavy, glazed over. It's like he doesn'treallysee me, and that thought gives me enough comfort to lean in closer, and closer, until the tip of my nose touches the head of Liam's cock.
He inhales sharply, and I'm vaguely aware of his frame jerking at the contact, my attention locked in as I graze the tip of my nose along his shaft, taking in more of his scent until my nose is pressed against his groin. I'm not entirely in charge of myactions, as if an external force is guiding me to part my lips and suck in a piece of the delicate skin right next to his sack, close enough to make my cock press uncomfortably against my zipper, yet far enough to still be able to state,Why no, I've never sucked a dick in my life.
I tilt my head and stick out my tongue, running it all the way down from his groin to the inside of his knee and then back up again. I grab his other leg for support, my fingers digging into the rock hard flesh of his flexed thigh muscle.
