Chapter Twenty-One
Leo
Snuggling under the covers, enjoying the toasty warm bed, and being sexed out and drowsy, I didn’t want to wake up yet. Gabe or Mitch snored loudly in my ear. Flopping my head to the side, I willed my eyes to open. When I eventually managed to prize the lids apart, my bed buddy came into view, and it wasn’t either of them, but Chuck, with his head right next to my face, his jowls rippling as he snored in my ear.
I jerked away and Chuck opened his bleary eyes. “Gross, Chuck. Really gross.” The dog ignored me, licked his teeth, and went back to sleep.
So not the scenario I anticipated after waking up.
Pushing down the covers the best I could with one doggy lump beside me and another further down the bed on the other side, I let the cooler air caress my skin as I studied the bedroom. Mitch’s bedroom. Log walls surrounded me on all sides, while antique pine made up most of the furniture, along with a huge rug underneath the bed to prevent cold feet in the mornings. There were two windows on my left, and on my right, a cupboard and the bathroom. The room screamed male and had the deliciously distinctive Mitch scent of earth and smoke and the store-bought pine shower gel he used. Pulling the covers to my nose, I took a long, deep sniff. He smelled heavenly.
I checked the time on the old-style brass alarm clock with twin bells on top, wondering if Mitch used it as such, or whether it was only there for show: 6:30 p.m. Wow. I’d been asleep for over six hours, only briefly waking a few times when Mitch came in to check I was still all right. I never napped during the day, let alone zoned out for so long. The stresses of this morning and my subsequently passing out must have taken a bigger toll on my body than I suspected.
Wide awake, my bodily functions decided to make themselves known, telling me loud and clear I needed to use the bathroom, rather urgently. The only problem I had now was actually getting out of the bed due to being stuck with two big lumps pinning me down. I still felt sluggish and out of sorts from being so cold, so I should have shouted for one of the guys to help me, but I didn’t want to see the pity on their faces as they watched me struggle, or heaven forbid, help me go to the bathroom.
The en suite was right there, the toilet visible through the partially closed door, so surely I’d be perfectly okay to take a pee on my own? I wiggled the covers to try to shift the animals off the bed, but their only response was to issue two separate, disgruntled doggy groans. “You two need to let me get up.” I shifted the blankets some more, but the dogs still refused to budge. “Come on guys. I’m gonna make a mess if you two don’t move your asses.” After a few more attempts, they finally got the message, and stood, stretched their long frames in a lazy way, then sloped off the bed. Norris used his claws to pry open the bedroom door, and they both disappeared into the living room.
One hurdle down. Now to get to the bathroom. Pushing the covers off fully, I sat up and swiveled my legs off the side of the bed and scooted forward. Using my hands to help push me up and off the mattress, I wobbled a bit as I stood and immediately felt lightheaded from being upright. Gritting my teeth, I tottered toward the bathroom, the stars appearing in front of my eyes beginning to swirl a bit faster, causing me to lose my balance and pitch forward. Luckily, I was close enough to grab hold of the doorjamb, but doing so had me stuck at a forty-five-degree angle with no chance of moving until I regained my equilibrium.
“Great. Just great.”
Gradually, my dizziness began to subside, as my body got used to standing vertical once again.
“Hey, hey,” Mitch’s deep voice rumbled behind me as he entered the room. He stopped at my side and immediately wrapped his arm around my waist, offering me his support. “I’m sure you have an explanation for doing yoga when you should be in bed, so I’m all ears.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. I needed to pee but got dizzier than expected when I got out of bed. I lost my balance, and now, here I am.”
“You’re sure it’s not some hippie yoga?”
I threw him the dirtiest look I had, which only succeeded in making him smile and me almost swallow my tongue. So damn handsome when he didn’t have the perma-scowl on his face, his hazel eyes sparkled and his lips, nestled in his beard, appeared to plump up more than usual. But the most amazing thing making my heart race was how much younger he looked without the creases in his brow and the sternness of his features.
“Are you going to stand there being an ass all night or are you going to help me? Because if it’s the former, please can you go and stand somewhere else?” To hell with feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable about taking any help. My full bladder had reached its limit, and so had I.
He laughed and the rich sound wrapped around my senses and squeezed tight.
“All right, all right.” With one hand still firmly on my waist, he slid the other around my chest to effortlessly stand me upright. I wasn’t a small guy, but the ease with which he maneuvered me about, and the gentleness of his touch made me giddy, which I totally blamed on the lightheadedness from getting up too quickly, and not on the rush of emotion currently flowing through my system. Add in me being completely naked while he was fully dressed, and the scenario sent all sorts of erotic fantasies running around in my head.
He didn’t stop there though, and before I had time to protest, he’d dropped his left arm under my knees, lifted me off my feet, and cradled me against his massive chest.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, even as my hand automatically snaked around his broad shoulders and gripped tight. “This is silly, Mitch. Please put me down.” He didn’t, and now I was not only giddy but also had a host of butterflies fluttering around inside my stomach, and the first stirrings of an erection I’d soon be unable to hide.
“Hush,” he gently scolded. “Let me help you.”
God, he would be my complete undoing. All my life, no one had ever helped me or looked after me. It had invariably been me helping everyone else, my family, usually. I never got anything right, of course, which only spurred me on to try harder, to finally get a modicum of praise from Malcolm, my mother, or even my brother.
It rarely worked.
But being held like a prized possession, someone to be cherished, made the blood rush through my veins and my heart hammer way too hard. Not sure how to react to his kindness and to hide my own awkwardness, I let my head rest against his shoulder and nuzzled into his neck. He smelled musky and faintly of sex, so I inhaled deeply, wanting to capture his essence in my lungs for all time.
“Here,” he said gruffly as he gently stood me by the toilet, holding me until I balanced myself and managed to fully stand on my own. “I’ll be sitting in the bedroom, so call out when you’re ready.”
I nodded, suddenly shy as his gaze held mine, his tender expression making me feel special and all he cared about in the world. We stayed that way for a few seconds until he retreated, leaving the door ajar. Alone now, I took a few seconds to regain my equilibrium. Every moment with Mitch was like turning a page in the most complex and intriguing book I’d ever read, as he gradually revealed new layers of himself every time. And with each new discovery, I wanted him more and more. I found everything about him exhilarating, and standing here naked in the bathroom, I lost a piece of myself to this gruff and complicated man.
After finishing my business and catching a horrified glimpse of myself in the mirror—total bed hair, a big crease along my cheek, and dried drool—I hurriedly splashed my face with water and ran my wet fingers through the errant strands of my hair to try to tame them. But, no matter how messy, sticking out all over the place, my hair got after sleeping, unless I took a shower and used shampoo it pretty much stayed a mess.
Giving up after a few minutes, I haltingly left the bathroom, clinging first to the vanity and next to the door, in case I felt faint again. Mitch sat on the bed waiting for me, playing with his cell, and the sight of a tangible link to the outside world surprised me, as I’d not missed the familiarity of using my own phone these past few days, at all. Funny, I’d gotten so used to being isolated and away from civilization, it made for a refreshing change not to have to worry about anything else going on in the world for a while. Reality would intrude soon enough, as it always did.
I’d have to look at my cell phone shortly, though, as Malcolm undoubtedly would have left me message after message demanding an update on the progress of the sale, or lack thereof.
Mitch raised his ass and pushed his phone into his front pocket, the action lifting his hips as he straightened his long legs, reminding me once more I remained totally naked, and he wasn’t. I found having my body completely exposed and vulnerable, while his was secured behind layers of material, strangely arousing. So arousing, in fact, my cock began to stir.
“Thinking about something you like?” he asked as his gaze zeroed in on my rapidly hardening penis.
“I…um…” I began but stopped, my mouth going dry when Mitch got off the bed to stand in front of me, desire in his eyes, his hand tentatively reaching out to enfold me in his rough, calloused fingers.
“Mitch,” I gasped, my hands leaving the door and clasping his shoulders in a death grip as he began to lazily work my length.
His gaze dropped down between us at his hand wrapped around me. “I’ve never held another man’s dick before today. It’s so solid, yet at the same time feels so soft and smooth.” He looked up into my eyes, the wonder in his clearly evident.
“Y-You don’t seem freaked out by it.” I managed to get the words out as Mitch continued to torture me. His loose grip meant I slipped easily between his fingers, but the sensation of his work-roughened palms, their hard skin grazing over my sensitive flesh, and his languid movements did way more for me than if he’d been quicker and more forceful.
His boyish grin expelled the last remaining air in my lungs. “I’ve known I was bisexual since hitting my teens.” He spoke as if we were having an everyday conversation while I continued to unravel right in front of him.
I liked my sex hard and fast on most occasions and was what I preferred with the random men I’d previously been with, if only to get the act over with as quickly as possible. But here, with Mitch, going slowly and sensually flicked every one of my switches.
“Uh-huh.”
“But I met my wife early on and so didn’t get a chance to experiment with other guys.” He squeezed me tighter. “I’m making up for it now.”
He continued to glide his fingers along my shaft for the next few minutes, back and forth, back and forth, slow and easy. When he dropped his other hand and cupped my balls, rolling them around in his palm, the extra stimulus from his touch was all I needed. My fingers turned white as I clung to him, nails digging into his T-shirt. My cock jerked in his hand, making me moan aloud as I shot my load all over his fingers and the front of his jeans. He didn’t stop, just maintained his slow, languid strokes as the shudders shook my body over and over. My vision dimmed as all the blood currently resided in my cock, rather than my head, and my legs were about to give out any second. But, once again, Mitch was there, holding me close, uncaring of the mess I made all over his clothes.
“Fuck,” I said into his shoulder, liking his deep hum of approval.
“Maybe later,” he replied, which had my head immediately snapping up to stare at him, eyes wide, mouth open. He shocked me even more when he brought his hand up, the hand covered in my cum and licked the white globs from his fingers.
“Jesus. You sure you’ve not done this before?” I croaked.
He placed a gentle kiss on my mouth, his tongue slipping in to let me taste myself. I nearly swooned; swooned , for fuck’s sake, his saliva and my cum tasted so good. “I told you. I’m making up for it now.” He smirked before easing away. “Let’s get you cleaned up; shall we?” He lifted me off the floor once again and carried me back into the bathroom, resting my ass against the vanity. The guys I normally fucked were smaller and slimmer than Mitch, slimmer than Gabe, even. I preferred them that way, as I got some measure of control for once. But this, I’d have no problem getting used to this—being manhandled, told what to do, treated like a precious cargo with a big “Handle with Care” sticker stamped on my ass.
I nearly giggled out loud at the thought, as the last thing I wanted was my ass handled with care. In fact, Mitch could make me a breakable item any time he wanted.