48. Carson
CHAPTER 48
CARSON
I walked into the kitchen and sighed.
No coffee.
No breakfast.
No laughter.
No chaos.
No family.
Just silence so fucking loud it could deafen a man.
I fucking hated it.
Margot and Amelia left three weeks ago, and Mama and Daddy followed suit a week later, after I’d been cleared to drive. I still had some residual pain, but it wasn’t anything some anti-inflammatories and over-the-counter pain meds couldn’t handle.
Glancing around the house, the emptiness overwhelmed me.
I wanted back the tornado dressed in pink frills with a penchant for sass and a mischievous streak so wide and deep it threatened to give me a heart attack a dozen or more times a day.
I wanted a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man who made me laugh and heated the blood in my veins until all I could think about was crawling between the sheets with him and not coming out until hell froze over.
I wanted three nosy parents who asked questions and hinted at things I’d dreamed of but never thought I’d get.
A deep inhale filled my lungs to bursting, and I held it there, hoping it would stave off the swell of emotion threatening.
It didn’t.
Not even close.
Dashing away the wetness, I refused to acknowledge any further, I moved toward the coffeemaker and groaned at the big, fancy machine my mother had replaced my single-serve machine with. The damn thing was big enough to keep her, Daddy, and Amelia in coffee all day. I didn’t know how they did it, but they drank cup after cup of the stuff. Not me. I was a one-cup kinda guy.
Shaking my head at the melancholy woe-is-me bullshit, I pulled out the pot, filled it partway, and set the massive contraption to brew. I stood and watched it do its thing, trying to keep from spiraling back into what life had been like a month ago.
The last bit of water sputtered into the pot. I yanked it off the burner, and the liquid that should’ve been a deep, warm brown was blacker than coal dust. I walked to the sink and dumped the mixture down the drain.
“Fuck this shit.”
Spinning on my heel, I grabbed my keys and wallet and headed toward the front door. I couldn’t stay in this house for another minute. I yanked open the door, and my eyes went wide and round, pulling at the corners until they burned.
“Surprise.”
Roman’s smiling face stared down at me, and I didn’t know if I should smack myself or pinch myself because there was no fucking way he was here. He was supposed to be in Germany for another two weeks, and then he, Margot, and Amelia were headed to Seattle for a year.
“Roman… What… Fuck. What are you doing here?”
“You gonna keep me on the porch or…”
“Get your fucking ass in here.”
I stepped back, and he came in, pulling the door from the death grip I had on it, slamming it closed and flipping the lock.
He shoved me backwards until my back hit the wall next to the door. His mouth descended over mine, meeting in a flurry of lips, teeth, and tongues.
All thought vanished. All I could do was feel from that moment forward.
Clothes flew this way and that as we moved through the house. We bumped into walls and doorframes as I pushed him toward the bedroom. He stopped moving, and I pushed him again, where he fell back on the bed.
I stood between his knees, letting my gaze roam at will. His hair was freshly cut. His jaw shaved smooth. His blue eyes shone like sapphires in the noonday sun.
My eyes moved down his long, elegant neck to his broad shoulders and chest. The well-defined muscles were covered in short, springy, coarse hair that I wanted to bury my fingers in as he fucked me senseless.
His belly wasn’t as defined as mine usually was, but it wasn’t quite soft either. All the pieces and parts were handsome, but combined, they made Roman Ott a fucking stunning man.
And he was all mine.
I climbed onto the bed, straddling his legs. He shimmied up the bed, and my gaze locked on his dick as it bobbed and weaved with the movement. The light caught the shiny tip, and I groaned as precum bubbled free of his hole and rolled down his length.
“Goddamn, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I muttered, moving my gaze back to his so I could watch him as I sucked his dick.
I leaned in, my mouth open as wide as possible. The scent of his cum hit my nose, and I drooled, dying to taste him.
He threaded his fingers through my hair, pulling my mouth down on him. His cum and my saliva combined to ease his way into my mouth. Closing my lips around him, I sucked and licked as his hips bucked, forcing his head into my throat, gagging me.
“Jesus, you’re a beautiful cocksucker.”
I groaned, and his dick twitched. He pulled me off his dick and flipped me onto my back, pushing my legs back toward my ears, my ass in the air, hole exposed.
“That looks even better than I imagined it would.”
My face heated as I remembered the package that showed up a week ago. Inside was what had to be an industrial-sized bottle of lube, a note card, and something in a small satin bag. I’d sat the box down, picked up the bag, and nearly dropped the fucking thing when I realized what I held in my hand as I read the instructions on the notecard.
“Hold your legs.”
I did as instructed and watched him sit back on his heels. My eyes glued themselves to his face. His were glued to my ass. His fingers traced the edges of the plug he’d ordered me to wear daily to “train my ass to take him whenever the mood struck.”
“Lube?” he asked as he tugged on the plug, fucking my hole with it.
I gasped, fumbling to reach the nightstand for the bottle, passing it to him. My breath caught as he slicked his dick. My guts clenched with need.
“Jesus Christ, fuck me already.”
His handsome, boy-next-door face twisted into something sexy and predatory as he pulled the plug out of my ass and fed me his cock. Even having worn the thing every damn day, he was still fucking huge, and I gasped as he sank into me. The pain I’d experienced the first time was nonexistent. Not that I would’ve fucking cared. What was a little pain when he made me feel like fireworks detonated in my body?
I wrapped my hand around his throat and pulled him toward me, his mouth slanted over mine as he fucked me hard and fast and oh, so fucking deep. Our sweat-slicked bodies moved together, undulating and writhing on the sheets, pillows falling on us only to be shoved away.
The room filled with grunts and groans and muffled moans. My ears rang with cries of pleasure. His rough, growled words pushed me closer and closer to the peak I was desperate to reach but loathed the thought of the passion between us ending.
The difference between the first time, more than a month ago, and now was like night and day. That first time I thought nothing could’ve been better, but Roman fucked me until I saw stars, and the stars saw stars. Then my vision went white as snow, and the world fell away.
I came back to myself when he dropped on the bed next to me. Both of us panted like we’d just run the O-course with a full rucksack, but it didn’t stop us from kissing and smiling at each other like two loons.
When I could finally manage, I asked, “Not that I’m complaining, but how are you here?”
“A plane.”
Laughter joined the panting to rob me of what little breath I had regained. “You know what I mean.”
“My orders came in. I report for duty tomorrow.”
“So, this is a sexual layover.”
“Something like that.”
“Where’s your mom and Margot?”
“At the house.”
“So, how long do I get you for?”
“Every damn day and twice on Sunday?”
“That’s a lot of frequent flyer miles.”
“Not really.”
“Norfolk to Seattle is 2,437 nautical miles.”
He burst out laughing, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. “I love that you know that. And yes, it is, but my orders aren’t for Seattle.”
“So, Texas?”
“How’s Fort Eustis sound?”
“Newport News?”
He nodded, and I tackled him into the pillows and blankets, and we lost ourselves in one another for God knew how long. When we parted, breathless, yet again, I sprawled across his chest. My cock nestled between his ass cheeks and I had to have him.
I kissed my way down his body, licking and sucking. I bypassed his dick and shoved him over on his belly.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to eat your ass, and then I’m going to fuck it. Fair’s fair, after all.”
“I’m down for that.”
“Every day and twice on Sunday?” I asked with a laugh, biting his ass cheek.
“Two rounds a day and four on Sunday sounds like a plan I can get behind.”
“And under, too, I hope,” I said, licking his crease from his tailbone to his nuts.
“As long as you promise to do more of that, I’m agreeable.”