Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
ANGEL
My chest has been tight all afternoon. Ever since that conversation with Mario, all through the drive to Rhys’s apartment, even after he kissed me by the front door. I’ve been wound up so tight, bracing myself for something bad to happen.
But then Rhys crawled into my lap and pressed himself to me. I breathed him in, held him, was held by him. Gradually, the tension eased.
The worry is still there. How will Mario will treat me now? Will anyone else in the neighborhood find out? But the longer I have Rhys in my lap, the less panicked I feel about it. I might not know what to do if people find out about me, but Rhys does. He’ll be there. He’ll help me.
My stomach grumbles, loudly, and we both glance down at my belly.
I didn’t have much of an appetite on my way over, but my body disagrees.
“I guess we should eat?” Rhys asks.
“Yeah, I guess,” I say, with a sheepish smile.
He moves to climb off my lap, but I pull him back down. I like having him here. I don’t want him to move.
“Is it okay if we…?”
“Eat like this?” Rhys finishes my question. “Of course, babe.”
He turns to grab a plate—mine or his, it doesn’t matter. Then he picks up a bit of brisket on a fork and holds it up for me. I open my mouth and let him feed it to me.
Smoky barbecue flavor bursts on my tongue and I moan in appreciation. Rhys’s eyes darken in response.
“Good?” he asks breathily.
I nod.
This is silly. I’m not a baby. But there’s something soothing about sitting still and letting him feed me. I don’t have to think, I don’t have to do anything. Just chew and swallow while holding this beautiful man in my lap.
His hair has a variety of peachy colors today, half of it pulled up and half of it hanging around his shoulders. It reminds me of a creamsicle. I want to lick him up. His pants are also orange and peach and white, loose and flowy, riding so low that his hip bones poke out the top. And his white t-shirt is cropped above his stomach.
“Does Mario know about the video?” Rhys asks as he feeds me another bite.
The video. That’s what I was distracted by all day. It’s what led to me telling Mario about sleeping with a guy.
“I didn’t tell him.” I can’t even imagine how Mario would react to something like that. His head might explode.
Rhys’s lips twitch into a wry grin. “And it’s not like he’ll find it on his own, right? ”
A snort bursts out of me unexpectedly. “No, I don’t think so. None of those guys are looking for gay porn.”
“Do you want an update on how it’s doing?” Rhys asks as he feeds me another bite.
I take a deep breath to calm the fluttery feeling in my tummy. To be honest, I don’t know how I feel about it being out in the world. I can’t really wrap my head around it. It doesn’t seem real. Like, what do you mean other people can watch it now? How? Why? Who?
But Rhys seems excited about it, so that’s good, right?
“Um, yeah, sure.”
Rhys scoops up a forkful of mashed potatoes for me. “It’s doing amazing. Like, really, really good. Sebastian says he wants to give you extra royalties on top of the set fee he’s already paid you.”
“He doesn’t have to do that,” I say without thinking.
Rhys pauses for a moment before peeking at me through his lashes. “Wouldn’t the money be helpful?”
Oh. Right. I’m doing gay porn for the money. Supposedly. “Uh, yeah, it would.” I scratch my jaw. Oops.
Rhys’s lips quirk to the side. “He also mentioned a second video? If you’re open to the idea?”
A second video.
Rhys sets the plate down and picks up a rib with his fingers. Holding the two ends, one in each hand, he brings the whole thing to my lips. I lean forward and take a bite, gaze locked with his as I do.
Am I open to another video with Rhys? There’s no reason for it. I mean, yeah, the money is nice, but who am I kidding? This isn’t about money anymore. This is about so much more.
It’s about me, who I am, who I want to be. And all the strange feelings Rhys stirs up inside of me. It’s about this—sitting here with Rhys, comfortable, peaceful, full of joy despite the worries that are still plaguing me.
I don’t need to do another video to get more of this. And yet… something inside me perked up at the mention of it. It was fun when I wasn’t freaking out. Sebastian and Christian are nice. It was unbelievably hot. I kinda liked watching it back afterward.
If Sebastian thinks it’s a good idea, if it’ll benefit Rhys’s career… I don’t feel too weird about it being on the internet, at least not yet. So… am I open to doing another video? “Yeah? I think so?”
Rhys beams. The smile breaking across his face so bright and shiny it sears my eyeballs.
“Yeah? You sure?”
With a reaction like that, how could I possibly say no? I squeeze him, savoring the shape of him in my arms. “I’m sure.”
I finish off the rib and Rhys drops the bone back onto the plate. He starts licking his fingers clean, lips pursed as he sucks the finger into his mouth. Then the subtle pop when he pulls the finger free. When he moves onto his other hand, I grab his wrist.
His glance is confused and surprised at first, but then he gasps silently when I bring his sauce-covered finger to my mouth instead. I lick up the sticky sauce, wrap my lips around his finger, swirl my tongue around it.
Rhys’s eyes lose their focus and his lips part, tongue peeking out.
I clean one finger, then move on to the next. Rhys lets out a little whimper and his hips shift forward, dragging his pert bum across my growing erection .
I spend extra time on his last finger, sucking on it the way I imagine I would suck on Rhys’s dick. I’ve never wanted to suck on a man’s dick before. The thought has never even occurred to me. But with Rhys’s finger in my mouth, I think I can understand the appeal.
It’s almost soothing. Meditative. I think I could lose myself in it.
Rhys pulls his finger from my mouth and replaces it with his tongue. He shoves it between my lips so fast that I don’t have time to react. He moans as I continue the sucking, as I draw his tongue deeper and twirl mine around his.
His hips rock forward and the length of his dick presses against my belly. I grip his butt, helping him grind himself against me. He groans into my mouth and I swallow down the sound.
We kiss. It’s messy with lots of tongues swiping everywhere and shivers keep running down my spine. My dick is so hard, aching in the confines of my jeans, and the thought of maybe giving Rhys a blowjob makes it throb.
“Fuck, teddy bear, you drive me crazy.” Rhys pants, forehead resting against mine, both of us trying to catch our breath.
I drive him crazy? That can’t be true. There’s nothing all that interesting about me, nothing very special. But Rhys… jeez, I don’t even have the words to describe him. He’s so vibrant, so full of life. So sincere and genuine and accepting. From that first day in his childhood bedroom, I’ve felt more seen than I ever have before.
He’s introduced me to a whole new world. He’s shown me a side of myself I didn’t even know existed. He’s literally turning me into a different person, and I think I might like this version better than the old one.
“Rhys.” I can’t help all the emotions I pour into his name.
“What is it, baby? Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.”
“I… I…”
“It’s okay, whatever it is, you can tell me.” He places his hand in the center of my chest. “In here. What do you want in here?”
No one has ever asked me that before. No one’s really cared. They’ve always assumed that I want the same things that everyone else wants, and I’ve never stopped to question it. But do I? Do I actually want the nice girl, the house next to Mama’s, and a bunch of kids? I don’t know.
I search myself, pushing aside everyone else’s expectations. Deep in my gut. What do I want?
“I… I want to suck you.”
Rhys stills. Then he pulls back enough to stare into my eyes. His irises are a rich brown that sparkles and dances.
“Really?” he says in a hushed tone, like he’s not sure I meant it.
Suddenly, a bout of nerves attacks. Maybe he doesn’t like being on the receiving end? He knows I’m new to this, so maybe he doesn’t want a total newb anywhere near his dick? “Is… is that okay?”
Rhys laughs out loud, eyes wide, smile even wider. “Yeah! Yeah, it’s definitely okay. Come on.” He scrambles to his feet and drags me along with him.
We stumble into his bedroom and he starts tearing at my clothes. I help him, kicking my boots off and peeling off my shirt, my jeans. The second I’m naked, Rhys shimmies out of his pants and whips his t-shirt over his head.
“Come here.”
He takes my hand and guides me toward the bed. But instead of climbing on, Rhys sits on the edge and pushes me down to my knees.
His dick is hard, sticking out from his pelvis. The tip is already glistening with pre-cum, and the shaft is straight and smooth. His balls sit at the base, two little round orbs. It’s… cute?
Rhys is a small guy and so his junk is proportionally on the small side. But it looks so perfect, like it was made in a mold. There are no weird bumps, no wonky angles. The skin all around it is flawless.
I’ve had brief glimpses of his dick before, but this is the first time I’ve really seen it up close. This is my first chance to really examine it, learn the feel of it, the taste of it.
Rhys leans back, hands braced behind him. His knees fall out to the sides, giving me plenty of room to work with.
I set my hands on his thighs and pause, heart hammering as I stare at the gorgeous man in front of me. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confess. I don’t want to mess this up, or god forbid, hurt him. I want this to be good for him.
“It’s okay. Just do what feels good.”
“What if I hurt you?”
“I’ll tell you if you do.” Rhys combs his fingers through my hair, cups my cheek, presses his thumb into my lower lip. “But I don’t think you will.”
His hand drops away and he leans back again .
Slowly, I draw my hands up his thighs, toward my prize.
Rhys shudders when I wrap my hand around his dick. His stomach and thighs contract, but otherwise, he doesn’t move.
My hand is big enough that it almost entirely engulfs his dick. Only the head sticks out of my fist, the glans engorged and shiny, enticing me to taste. I bend forward and lick it experimentally.
Salty and bitter, the flavor takes me right back to the day of our shoot. At the end, when Rhys was getting dressed and I tasted the cum he splattered on my thigh. To the day in my truck, when our cum mixed together, landing all over both of us.
I lick his dick again, running my tongue all over the head. He grunts, his breaths coming in fast and shallow. His eyes are heavy-lidded as he watches me. His fingers dig into the messy bedding underneath him. He’s either incredibly turned on, or I’m completely mangling my first blowjob.
“Is this…?”
Rhys groans. “I swear to fucking god, Angel, if you don’t keep going, I’m going to die.”
Warmth spreads through my chest at his words and a thrill runs through me. He likes what I’m doing. He wants more. Unfamiliar feelings of power and pride give me a fresh boost of confidence.
I take the head between my lips, the same way I did with his finger, with his tongue. And I suck.
“Oh, fuck!” Rhys’s body goes taut, every muscle flexed. But he doesn’t stop me, doesn’t try to take control.
I’m doing this. I’m actually doing this. Me, Angel, a nobody from a sleepy suburb. I’m making Rhys feel good, making him shudder and jerk in pleasure.
I slide my lips down toward the base, marveling at the girth of Rhys’s dick. It’s not super thick, but my jaw still stretches more than I’m used to. He’s heavy on my tongue, heavier than I expected for his size, and that contrast makes my balls tingle.
I only get a couple inches before my gag reflex kicks in and I hurriedly pull myself off. “Sorry,” I pant, wiping up spit with the back of my hand.
“Don’t be. You don’t have to deepthroat for it to feel good.” Rhys’s fingers are in my hair again, comforting, soothing.
“But I want to,” I object.
He chuckles. “You’ll get there. It just takes practice.”
I think about that for a moment. Yes, he’s right. I will get there. And I will practice on his dick every chance I get.