Chapter 5
5
“ A pproach the game with no preset agendas and you’ll probably come away surprised at your overall efforts.” —Phil Jackson
Weather had proven to be a big obstacle for our regular Saturday basketball games, until this weekend, when we rescheduled for Sunday due to work schedules and family obligations. It had been two weeks since I’d first asked Jack to join us. Even though I’d spent the previous afternoon hanging out watching baseball with him, I still had butterflies in my stomach. A medley of questions went through my head. Would he be weird about my date with Paul the night before? Did he care? What would he look like in basketball shorts?
I arranged to meet the guys at the public courts near our alma mater, Georgetown University. Since I still lived in the area, I’d been assigned the task of heading over to stake our claim by 9:00 a.m. Any later, we’d be out of luck. A gorgeous spring day in late May meant everyone would be out playing in the city. I rode my bicycle the few blocks to O Street from my apartment, taking advantage of one of the first nonrainy days we’d had all week. I probably looked like a moron carrying my basketball in one arm as I steered my bike with the other, but I really didn’t care.
After locking up my bike, I got busy warming up. I was probably on my fifth shot, third one to actually make it in the hoop, when Jason yelled my name in greeting.
“Hey, man!”
Jason was dressed like me in longish basketball shorts and a T-shirt that had seen better days. I threw him the ball and observed him for a moment while he took a turn at the basket. Marriage seemed to agree with him. He looked like he’d gained a couple of pounds since he and Chelsea had tied the knot. But it looked good on him and he seemed really happy. No doubt they’d be talking about buying a house in the suburbs and starting a family soon. It struck me again that we were all growing up. The days of writing school papers and endless reading were a thing of the past.
Matt and Aaron arrived next. Aaron was obviously telling his boyfriend a story if the rapid hand motions were any indication. They looked like they’d just gone for a run. Aaron sometimes would run with Matt to the courts and then continue on for another few miles while we played hoops. I hated running, but I was always impressed with Aaron’s athleticism and passion for it. Jase and I shouted out a greeting as they approached.
“I’m playing today, guys,” Aaron announced when they stepped on the court.
Jase and I exchanged looks but wisely kept our mouths shut. Matt laughed, though, and then grimaced as Aaron whacked him in the arm.
“You should see your faces!” Matt wrapped an arm around Aaron’s waist and pulled him close to his side, kissing his temple once before releasing his hold. “Don’t worry, Aaron isn’t staying to school your asses today, right, babe?”
“Nice save.” Aaron squeezed Matt’s hand and jumped up to get the basketball as it rebounded off the backboard. “I’ll stay until Jack gets here. Who wants to play me first?”
It was a three-way eye roll this time. Aaron was a fast runner, but his hand-eye coordination was a little unpredictable. We laughed as he traveled hopelessly, carrying the ball and running before throwing it over the entire backboard.
The rev of an approaching motorcycle announced the arrival of our fourth. My hands were suddenly sweaty, and I could feel my heart attempting to beat out of my chest. Shit. I needed to pull myself together quickly.
“Cool. He’s here,” Matt said as he deftly grabbed the ball from Aaron and took a shot of his own, hitting nothing but net. He gave me a triumphant fist pump and then came to a halt when he noticed my distracted expression. Matt cocked his head and smiled a little smugly.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I whispered as I nudged him hard and stole the ball from him. I didn’t want Jase and Aaron to catch wind of my angst here. I was uncomfortable enough as it was.
“No reason, lover boy. Let’s play.”
Matt grabbed my shoulder in a reassuring manner before he turned to greet the newcomer. I was afraid to even look at him, though I felt his presence the moment he stepped on the court. I took two lame-ass shots before giving in and turning around. I should have known the sight of Jack in basketball shorts and a tank T-shirt that lovingly showcased every one of his incredibly formed muscles—abs, chest, biceps, shoulders, back—would make my pulse race faster. I gulped once, audibly, watching him greet my buddies before coming toward me.
“Hey, honey. How are you?” He kissed my cheeks and winked at me before stealing the ball from my hand and effortlessly making the basket from twenty feet away. I almost sensed he knew where my head had been moments before, and I felt a flush of embarrassment.
Aaron said his good-byes, claiming he was going to do some exercise while we played with our balls. Smart-ass. I used the distraction of his departure to take a couple of practice shots and was relieved when they went in. The last thing I needed was to make a total fool of myself playing a game I usually held my own at quite nicely all because Jack made me nervous. I gradually relaxed as we warmed up taking turns shooting. Conversation was light. Mostly weather- and work-related. It was all good until we decided to play a game. Matt and Jack against Jason and me.
I figured Jack was competitive but I miscalculated how much the guy liked to win. Jack was fierce, physical, and extremely athletic. When he jumped to block my shots, he used his body weight to box me out, practically throwing me to the concrete a couple of times. At first I thought he was kidding around, but I began to realize he came to play. He obviously thought we took this a lot more seriously than we did.
“That’s it, Matt. Take it to the hole. Fuck yeah!” Jack yelled as Matt made a run at the basket and hit his shot just as Jason went to block it. “And one!”
“Fuck that. That was not a foul!” I protested. It probably was, but I was getting tired of his pompous style of play. The only positive was that it went a long way toward curing my earlier bout of nerves. Now I was pissed.
“It was a foul and you know it, C Man. Take your shot, Matt,” Jack said as he flipped the ball to Matt.
“C Man?” Damn he was annoying and so fucking distracting. I alternated between wanting to stop and admire his muscular form glistening with sweat to holding back from nailing him in the back of the head with the basketball. His arrogance seemed to hit new levels with each point he and Matt scored.
“C’mon, Curt. We got this. Don’t worry.” Poor Jason looked worried about my sanity as he tried to calm me down from the ledge.
“Right. Let’s do this.” I passed the ball to Jason from the top of the key and slid by Jack, positioning myself practically under the basket. “Pass me the ball!”
Jason still had to make his way around Matt, who was doing a good job defending him from making any forward progress. Jack turned to block me, effectively making a wall in between Jason and me with his larger-than-average frame. I shoved my body into his, surprising him enough to make a breakaway and give Jason the opportunity to throw me a clean pass. Jason passed the ball. I grabbed it and crouched low, trying to fool Jack with a fake shot before jumping a second time and releasing the ball. It hit the outside rim and neatly fell into the basket.
And I fell in a heap on the court.
You know the feeling when time is suspended and you notice every detail more keenly, as though the action has unfolded over a longer time than the half-second it actually happened? I jumped, I saw the ball go in, I celebrated with a whoop and then fell unceremoniously on my ankle as I landed with a thud, scraping my knee for good measure on the concrete. White light flooded my vision as my brain began to process that something extremely painful had occurred. Unfortunately, as that ominous light cleared, the pain registered. And it really fucking hurt.
Matt, Jason, and Jack all gathered around me, asking repeatedly if I was okay. No, I was not fucking okay. I breathed in deeply a few times and struggled to sit up.
“Man, you fell like a rock. Where does it hurt? Is it your ankle?”
“Yeah, I think I just rolled it, but it hurts.” I tried another deep breath and was relieved when the wave of nausea passed. I’d been dangerously close to puking or passing out until that moment.
“We should get you to the clinic. Let me call Chelsea. She can come back around with the car and we can drive you there.” Jason moved back to get his phone out, probably grateful to do something other than ask if I was all right.
“I think I have a towel and water in my backpack. Let’s get your knee cleaned up.” Matt jumped up too, leaving me with Jack.
“Did I push back too hard? Is that why you fell?”
I looked up to see concern tinged with a dose of guilt in Jack’s expressive blue eyes. His square, stubbled jaw was set in a firm line. As pissed off as I’d been a minute before, he wasn’t to blame for my fall.
“I’m just your average run-of-the-mill klutz. I’ve sprained my ankle before and I don’t think it’s quite that bad. I rolled it hard, though. I just need to get home, get some ice on it, and elevate it. If I could get a shower in somehow and a six-pack, I’d be set.” I tried for a breezy “been there, done that” approach, but I doubted my distressed tone matched my words. My ankle really fucking hurt.
“Yeah. But I’m sorry if I went overboard. I tend to get a little aggressive when I’m playing.” Jack brushed a finger through my hair in an almost-unconscious gesture meant to soothe. My hair was sweaty. I felt stiff, sore, and just plain gross, but I leaned into his comforting touch. “I didn’t mean to?—”
“I’m having trouble getting a hold of Chels. Should we call a taxi? I mean, none of us drove here, right?” Jason looked distraught as he stood nearby, redialing his phone.
“I did.” Jack leaned back to look over at Jason and Matt. “I can put him on the back of my bike and get him home in no time.”
“Okay, good. And I can ride his bicycle back to his place. I’ll text Aaron. Let him know to just meet me at home. Maybe you and Chels can give me a ride when you get ahold of her, Jase. I’m not sure how long Aaron will be on his run. He was geared up for a long one.” Matt threw a wet towel and a water bottle toward Jack, who started dabbing at my knee. He practically shoved the bottle at me wordlessly, telling me to drink it.
“That’s settled. Your knee should be fine. Let’s get you going. Can you stand?” Jack finished doctoring my knee and stood up over me.
“Is anybody going to ask me what I want to do? Hello? You know… me? The guy laying down here on the fucking ground? I’m fine. I just need a moment to regroup. I can ride my bicycle back myself.”
The three of them shared a look, which pissed me off all over again. Insult to injury.
“Curt, honey, think about it.” Jack tried to reason with me in a calm, kind tone he probably used with his young niece and nephew.
“Why are you talking to me like I’m five?” I said through my teeth.
“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, Jack, thanks for being so thoughtful.’” He stood up and filled my buddies in on his plans for takeover while I silently fumed.
Either no one gave a shit or they were too busy ignoring my sullen, pissy attitude, but I felt like a total invalid as they banded around me, gathering my things before they helped me to my feet and settled me on the back of Jack’s big black Harley. Jack picked up a helmet from his bag and set it gently on my head, fastening it under my chin.
Jack effortlessly took his place in front of me on the bike and revved the engine to life.
“You doin’ okay, honey?” He turned slightly to look at me. “You look a little pale. Hold on tight.”
I nodded listlessly and wrapped my arms around Jack’s midsection without thinking twice. I rested my head against his broad back as he rounded the first corner. He’d changed out of the sweaty T-shirt he’d worn while we played into a fresh one, but I still caught his musky scent. I was one of those weird guys who loved the way a man smelled. Even after exercise.
My focus on Jack and my throbbing ankle kept my attention from the fact we should have been at my apartment by now.
“Where are we going?” I yelled above the bike’s engine. I sat up a little taller in my seat behind Jack, aware of the press of my thighs against his as I tried to get my bearings. We were on M Street heading toward Dupont.
“Jack!” I nudged his side when we stopped at a red light.
“Shh. We’re almost there.”
“Where?” I yelled. He didn’t answer. I was sure he heard me too.
Jack turned on to 15 th Street. I knew we were somewhere between Logan and Dupont but I couldn’t tell what our destination was. A glance at the neighboring businesses told me this was an upscale section of town with hip cafés and name-brand clothing boutiques catering to a young, affluent crowd. He finally slowed to a stop in front of a walk-up brick Federal-style building. There were businesses on either end, but this appeared to be a residence with neatly trimmed hedges leading to a large black door. Jack’s house?
Jack dismounted and turned to help me do the same.
“Where are we?”
For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer me. He took both our helmets off and then bent to take a look at my swollen ankle. He finally looked up at me, his face full of concern.
“You okay?”
“Uh, well it hurts, but I… where are we?” I repeated, this time crossing my arms over my chest and trying my best “stop stalling” look.
“My place. My store is in the front, shop in the back, and I live upstairs.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but I got the idea Jack was a little confused himself about why we were here and not back at my place.
“O-kay. But why didn’t you take me home?”
“Your apartment is a mess.” I rolled my eyes, but he continued before I could defend myself. “I can’t think in those conditions and I want to… um… I want to make sure you’re okay. So just… go with it. Please.”
I stared at him, speechless. I wanted to tell him my place was clean, but I understood that wasn’t his real concern. He was asking me to let him take care of me and not make a big deal about it. I wasn’t sure what to think, but with a bum ankle and a torn-up knee I decided to take his advice and go with it. I grasped his hand and used his arm as support as Jack patiently guided me up the path to his front door.
The “store” had obviously once been a beautiful home with wide-plank maple flooring, high ceilings, and tall Palladian-style windows. It looked like it had been recently renovated but left unadorned so that the space resembled an art gallery. The walls were painted a stark white and decorated with professionally rendered color photographs of motorcycles. Some captured the bikes in motion, and others looked like they’d been done for a magazine, with beautiful models both male and female sitting astride or suggestively leaning against the bikes. It was all very interesting. And very unexpected.
A young man with bright auburn hair and a winning smile greeted us, though he looked surprised to see Jack.
“Hi, boss. What are you doing here?” I kept quiet since I’d asked that question too many times already.
“Hey. Uh, Damien, this is Curt. Curt… Damien. We’re just passing through. Everything cool here?”
“Yes. Mr. Duncan came by with his deposit. He asked for you, but I think he was going to try your cell. Are you okay?” Damien looked puzzled by my bedraggled appearance. I caught his once-over and looked down, grimacing at my bloodstained knee. I was obviously leaning hard on Jack’s arm too, so the real answer was no, I wasn’t okay.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
Jack nodded our good-byes and offered a weak smile before tugging lightly at my arm, indicating we were going to keep moving. He led me through the showroom, which I noted was designed to look more like a gallery than a store. There were two state-of-the-art motorcycles in the middle of the floor on slightly raised platforms. One was a tricked-out Harley and the other was a European racing bike. Shelving on one end of the room displayed helmets and some accessories, while a stand-alone kiosk next to it held a large screen computer that flashed photos displaying more motorcycles and accoutrements available for online purchase.
I felt Damien’s shrewd gaze as Jack guided me past him slowly before he made a right turn down a short hallway, at the end of which was a narrow flight of stairs. The small vestibule was awash in sunlight thanks to the generous skylight at the top of the stairs. The walls here were the same white as the rest of the space, but the photographs were more personal in nature. Some looked professionally done, some were candid shots of people. I recognized his sister and her family in a couple. Instinctively I wanted to stop and ask about them, but now wasn’t the time.
“I know what you’re going to say, but listen….”
“No.”
Jack gave me a dirty look and raised his eyebrows. “It will be a hell of a lot faster, and these stairs aren’t wide enough for us to walk up side by side.”
“I can do it myself.” I leaned heavily on the railing and set my good foot on the next step before trying to repeat the action with my injured one. I winced in pain.
“Fuck this. Yell at me later.” Jack picked me up around my middle and tossed me over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. I was too surprised to do much more than gasp.
I was a six-foot-tall man and although I knew I was on the thin side, it had been a very long time since anyone was able or inclined to carry me with such ease. I wasn’t sure I liked it. I hit his back in weak protest and then clued in that the best revenge was a different kind. I reached down and slipped my fingers under the elastic of his workout shorts and briefs to squeeze his bare ass. Jack flinched.
“Cool it!” He smacked my ass in warning, making us both laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
At the top of the landing, there was a sitting area with a comfortable-looking sofa and a large flat-screen television. Jack stopped at a keypad outside of a large steel-framed door and entered a code. He gently lowered me and moved aside so I could hobble before him into what looked to be his private living quarters. There was another sitting area situated directly across from an open-style kitchen with an island. The vibe was somewhere between contemporary and traditional, with modern lighting above the island and a zinc-covered table at the far end of the room. A beautiful Persian rug in inviting blues and reds under the sofa gave the otherwise stark modern room a vibrant glow. And of course the space was impeccably neat and clean. No sign of an errant coffee cup or yesterday’s newspaper lying about.
“Wow. This is great,” I said as I limped toward the island, running my hand along the smooth black granite.
“Hey, hey.” Jack was at my side before I knew it, pulling me gently toward the sofa. “We have to get you off your feet. Lie down here. I’ll bring you an ice pack.”
He kissed my forehead and gave me a slight push to sit. I didn’t budge.
“Wait. I stink. Can I….”
I laughed when Jack started sniffing the air around me like a dog hot on a scent. He grinned back at me and pushed a little harder. I fell back on the sofa cushion but made sure to drag him with me. Jack chuckled but didn’t get off. Instead, he breathed heavily into my neck and licked a trail from the exposed skin near my collarbone to my jaw. I couldn’t decide if knowing I was sweaty from our time on the court made the gesture extremely sexy or kind of gross. I was turned-on, though, and the light fabric of my basketball shorts surely gave me away. Jack hovered over me and kissed me softly before getting up.
“You’re right. You stink.” He couldn’t keep a straight face, though, so I knew he didn’t mind. “Look, you need to relax. Let me take a good look at your ankle.” He sat next to me and removed my shoes and socks before draping my injured leg over his lap.
“Careful!”
“Baby. It’s not horrible, but there is definitely some bruising here. Ice first, then?—”
“No, please. I can’t relax until I clean up. Do you mind if I take a quick rinse? And maybe borrow a T-shirt?”
“You’re trying to tell me you suddenly developed a penchant for cleanliness? You? Curtis Townsend?”
“You are a fucking comedian.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m laughing on the inside.”
Jack stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at me with a thoughtful expression.
“Fine. On one condition.”
I scooted forward on the seat and held on to the armrest to stand, relieved to be one step closer to getting out of my grubby clothes.
“What?” I asked absently.
“You shower with me.”
“Uh….” My ankle was throbbing, but now so was my cock. This wasn’t a good idea. “Why? I won’t fall. I’ll be careful and?—”
“No. My way or you sit in your sweaty duds, honey.” The twinkle in his eye gave him away. Jack was a merciless tease, but he wasn’t joking: he was issuing a challenge.
I sighed heavily and turned my head to hide my smile. Taking a shower with Jack was literally a wet dream. The mere thought of water sluicing down his muscled, tattooed, god-like body made me feel light-headed.
“Fine.” I tried for nonchalant but my voice rose an octave, so I knew I’d failed.
“Good boy. That’s the right answer.” He mussed my hair playfully before leaning down to scoop me easily in his arms. I cried out in surprise but smiled at the sound of Jack’s deep chuckle resonating through the room.
Everything in the spacious apartment screamed high-end. His bathroom wasn’t huge but it was well-appointed with high ceilings and a long marble countertop paired with opaque glass tiles that made everything seem large and lush. He lowered me slowly and pressed another small kiss on my lips before stepping away to turn on the water in the shower while I leaned on the cool marble.
“Ready?” He slipped his shirt over his head, then lowered his shorts and briefs in one quick motion. I stared at his incredible body, unable to answer. Jack tipped my chin up to look at him. I think I was too turned-on to be embarrassed at being caught staring. Jack was just as aroused as me. He licked his lower lip before reaching out to help me undress. I didn’t stop him. I stood motionless and let him slip my shirt off. My heart raced as he hooked his fingers inside the elastic of my shorts and briefs and lowered them over my ass, never taking his eyes off of mine. I trembled slightly, leaning heavily on my good foot when he sank to his knees, pulling the fabric down to my feet. I held my breath and peeked down just as he stuck his tongue out to lick the head of my semihard cock in a circular motion. I held on with white knuckles to the marble countertop as my body shuddered with desire.
“C’mon, honey. Let’s get you clean.” Jack stood again and captured my mouth in a brief but demanding kiss before helping me into the shower.
There was plenty of room for two in the glass-enclosed space, but my bum ankle wasn’t going to allow us to linger under the warm spray for an extended period. I surrendered to Jack’s ministrations, letting him lather, wash, and rinse us both. He stole kisses intermittently and teased me with his firm, sure hands as he pried his fingers behind my balls and in between my ass cheeks. I gasped and leaned into his touch instinctively.
“You have the most beautiful ass, honey. I wish I could push you up against the tile and fuck you senseless,” Jack growled into my ear, biting my lobe just hard enough to make me whimper.
Jack turned me in his arms, bringing our chests together as water rained down from the luxurious oversized showerhead above. Our cocks were pressed tightly between us as he cupped and squeezed my ass in his large hands while his tongue swirled and mated with mine. In my effort to get even closer I ended up putting extra weight on my bad ankle. I winced in pain and clutched at Jack’s shoulders for support.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. You need to lie down.” Jack kissed my nose before turning to shut off the water and grab a towel.
I groaned in protest. I wanted to stay naked in the shower with this sexy man, not get carried out like a child. Jack chuckled softly as though he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. He made quick work of drying us both, swatting my hands away when I tried to take care of myself.
Within ten minutes, I was dressed in a Captain America T-shirt Jack informed me was a birthday gift from his niece and nephew with a pair of his workout shorts. Both were huge on me, but I didn’t mind. I think there is something truly sexy about wearing your lover’s clothes, and I decided to enjoy it while it lasted. I also chose to not question Jack’s desire to play caretaker to me that afternoon. I couldn’t tell if his kindness was guilt-induced or if he genuinely wanted to spend time with me and my injury had given him the perfect excuse. It didn’t matter either way. I liked his company and I wasn’t going to ruin those two basic facts by overthinking. At least, I was going to try.
Once I was settled back on the sofa in front of his enormous flat-screen television with a baseball game to entertain me, and an ice pack on my elevated ankle, Jack declared it was lunchtime. He made us a couple of sandwiches and set them and a bag of chips on the huge distressed-wood coffee table near the sofa. His coffee table was designer distressed as compared to mine, which was the result of years of use. I was just about to share my observation when he made a funny face and walked back to the kitchen with our plates.
“Where are you going?”
“We can’t eat on the sofa,” he commented as he busied himself pulling out the chairs from around the small kitchen table.
I was baffled. “Why not?” I ate on my sofa all the time.
The proverbial light went on, and I turned as best I could with my leg propped up to get a good look at him.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Jack glanced up briefly and came back to grab a pillow from a nearby armchair. “About what? I don’t want crumbs on the sofa.” His explanation was given with a slight shrug. Jack-speak for “you know why” or “I can’t really explain.” However, the glint of humor in his expressive eyes gave him away.
“Jack. Look at me.” I waited for him to comply before I continued. “I promise not to get crumbs on your sofa and… because I’m a good guy, I’ll even throw in a blowjob if you let me stay where I am.”
Jack grinned widely before succumbing to a bout of laughter. He was still chuckling when he came to sit across from me on the coffee table.
“That’s quite an offer. You promise? No offense, but I run a tight ship here and?—”
“Fuck off. I admit that I have a much higher tolerance than you to clutter, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with things being dirty. And I know how to fucking eat without getting food all over myself. Geez!”
Jack pulled his lips under his teeth in an effort to keep from laughing. He nodded slowly, his eyes bright with humor.
“You know I was messin’ with you, right?” He neatly dodged my attack, laughing like a loon as he went back to the kitchen to grab our plates.
We sat watching baseball in a companionable silence while we ate our lunches. Occasionally we’d comment about a play or argue about how it should have been called, but it was friendly, and it felt easy, like yesterday afternoon before the fetish conversation and Paul’s phone call interrupted us.
“Did you know that each baseball game has over twelve million possible plays? Twelve million! Can you even fathom that?”
Huh?
“No. I didn’t know that.” Who—besides Jack—did? I looked across the sofa at his handsome profile and willed myself to think of… well, maybe twelve million baseball plays. Anything to get my dick to behave and my pulse to slow down. He caught me staring and brushed at his mouth as though he thought I was trying to tell him he had food on his face.
“What? What are you looking at?”
“You. You’re kind of a geek, huh?” I was powerless to stop the amused smirk I was wearing.
Jack raised his eyebrows and matched my smirk with one of his own. “How do you figure?”
“You have this cool motorcycle, tattooed muscle-guy vibe, but you’re a baseball-trivia freak. You look like you’re about to bust at the seams sometimes when you have a particularly interesting tidbit of information to share. I think that makes you a fanboy.”
“A ‘fanboy’? What the fuck is that? I’m just your average guy who digs baseball. That’s it.”
“You’re cute.” I grinned widely at him, captivated by the many facets of Jack.
“Cute?” Jack narrowed his eyes in a mock menacing glare. “I don’t think I’ve been called ‘cute’ since I was three. I’m not cute. And I’m not a ‘fanguy,’ either.”
“The term is ‘fanboy,’ and yeah… you are cute,” I insisted. I figured with my leg elevated he wouldn’t do too much to retaliate.
“Hmm. I don’t think I called you names when I was a guest in your house,” he singsonged.
“Ha! You lambasted my housekeeping skills. I was shamed into getting a cleaning lady. You were a terrible guest!”
“Oh. I guess that’s true. But I’m not taking it back.”
“Well, me either. You’re a cute, geeky baseball fanboy.”
“That’s it!” Jack was on me before I knew what was happening. He straddled my thighs and tickled me mercilessly.
“Stop, stop! My leg is supposed to be elevated!” I choked out as I tried to catch my breath.
Jack stopped suddenly and sat back on one knee, eyeing me lecherously for a long moment.
“I have an idea.”
I gulped and waited for whatever lascivious suggestion I knew was coming my way. Fuck my ankle, I really hoped we might finish what we started in the shower.
“What do you say we go back to my room and you can elevate your leg over my shoulders?” His voice was husky with desire overriding his joking tone.
It was one of those moments I wished I had a great comeback. Something funny and poignant with just the right amount of sex. But I couldn’t form one word, let alone string two together. Was I ready for this? Jack felt like someone I’d known for a lot longer than one month, but… he wasn’t. I wasn’t normally quick to jump into bed with men I didn’t know well. Fooling around was one thing, but “legs over shoulders” was a direct invitation for hot sex. I swallowed hard and looked up at Jack.
Sold. Earth to Curt. Wake the fuck up and stop thinking. Jack was the hottest man I’d ever kissed, let alone blown. I wanted him, he wanted me, so what was there really to worry about? If something came up, I could deal with it later.
I nodded and threw my arms over Jack’s shoulders, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. He groaned into my mouth, allowing me access to slip my tongue inside. Jack cupped the back of my head and grabbed a handful of hair. He yanked my head back against the pillow in a forceful, predatory move that surprised me. I blinked up at him, fascinated and bewildered at the ravenous expression on his roguishly handsome face. I felt a sense of power surge through me, knowing I had something to do with that look. Gone was my earlier trepidation. My confidence was restored.
“‘Legs over your shoulders’? What is it you’re asking for, Jack?”
I traced a line from his high cheekbone to his jaw, then placed my finger on his lower lip. Jack growled low, his nostrils flaring slightly as he devoured my finger in one deft motion. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it with his eyes half-closed. Then his hands started moving. Everywhere and all at once. He pushed the Captain America T-shirt up and splayed his big hands across my chest, gliding them lightly across my sensitive nipples, then lower over my stomach. He repeated the motion with a firmer touch, stopping to rub and squeeze my nipples harder. I arched forward into his hands, mesmerized by the sight of him still sucking my finger as he played, touched, and teased.
He was careful not to put too much weight on my thighs but when he shifted back slightly, I adjusted my foot to give him room and winced when my ankle dropped from its pillow perch. Jack stopped abruptly. He took my finger from his mouth and placed a chivalrous kiss on the back of my hand before standing up. He stared at me from above for a long moment.
“Are you gonna bite my head off if I pick you up and carry you to my bed?”
I shook my head. “I can walk. Just help me up.”
Jack rolled his eyes at what I’m sure he considered obstinacy on my part, but he held out his hand and pulled me easily to my feet. I grasped on to his forearm hard, trying to establish my footing and not put extra weight on my ankle. Jack gave my clutched hand a dirty look and scowled at me.
“Ow?”
“Baby,” I chided, laughing at his put-upon expression.
“That does it.”
In one fell swoop, Jack picked me up like a child and carried me with long, purposeful strides across his living area and into his bedroom. I let out a whoosh of breath when he tossed me on to his king-sized mattress and instantly covered my body with his.
“You’re a barbarian. That’s the third time you’ve picked me up like a sack of flour,” I commented as I pulled his chest down to meet mine. I loved the feel of his massive body over me.
“Hmm.” Jack ran his fingers through my hair as he ground his pelvis into mine. We both gasped at the delicious feel of our hardened dicks rubbing through the thin barrier of our shorts. However, it wasn’t anywhere near enough contact.
Jack pulled up over me, caging my head in between his tattooed arms. The sight of his beautiful ink surrounding me sent another unexpected wave of desire racing through my body. I lifted my hips upward to meet his in invitation. I wanted him flat on top of me, closer and with a lot less clothes on. I yanked at the hem of his T-shirt, trying to push the fabric out of the way so I could explore his impressive chest. Jack shifted back off me, making me whine in protest.
“I want you, Curt. I want to be inside you, fuck you like crazy… but I don’t want to hurt you. Your foot….”
I sat up, leaning on my elbows, and eyed him incredulously.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Fuck my foot. I want you…. I…. Jack, I’m no good at this stuff. I admit I’m usually cautious and careful about almost every damn thing in my life. If I think too hard about this, being here in your bed, I can easily come up with ten different reasons why this isn’t a good idea. But the truth is, I don’t want to talk myself out of this. I want this too.”
Jack inclined his head slightly but moved away from me off the bed. I stared at the ceiling, confused. Had he changed his mind?
“Hey. Look at me,” Jack demanded. His head tilted to one side thoughtfully, he continued in a soft voice. “Honey, I was talking about your ankle only. I never changed my mind. I tend to be a little physical sometimes, and I was thinking I… we should slow the pace down. That’s all. I’m not having second thoughts.” He let out a low chuckle and smiled down at me kindly. “I rarely do.”
I licked my lips, relieved we had established we were on the same page. “Now what?”
“Let me take control. Will you? Do you trust me?”
His words spoken in his sexy, low voice had me tongue-tied. I nodded and bit the inside of my cheek nervously.
“Good.” Jack winked at me before lifting the hem of his T-shirt to reveal his gorgeous torso and flinging the garment aside. He hooked his thumbs under the elastic of his shorts and slowly lowered them, freeing his rock-hard member.
I gulped, feeling instantly light-headed. I sat up and tossed my T-shirt over my head quickly. My hands were on my shorts when Jack stopped me with a tsk-tsk noise. He moved back toward the bed and straddled his naked body over my chest. I stared for a long moment at the wide head of his beautiful penis. It lay hard on my upper stomach, too far away for me to touch or lick. I looked up to see Jack’s heated gaze watching me closely.
“Can I suck you?” My voice was hoarse with need.
Jack didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled my arms over my head and held them tightly in his right hand. Then he leaned up on his knees and bent forward so his stiff cock was now inches from my mouth. Our eyes locked, and Jack gave a slight nod, wordlessly granting permission.
I stuck my tongue out and ran it over his slit, tasting the precum that was starting to puddle there. Jack’s groan of approval made me anxious to taste much more of him. I bathed the head of his cock, licking it incessantly with catlike instincts. I grunted in surprise when he used his free hand to guide my mouth further down his length. I took the not-so-subtle hint and opened my mouth wide to suck as much of his dick as possible while flat on my back.
Jack controlled the movement, gently fucking his cock down my throat. He freed my hands and leaned back to grip my impossibly hard flesh, stroking me as I sucked him wildly. My breath hitched slightly when he released his hold and moved lower to fondle my balls. I was dangerously close to sensory overload and I certainly didn’t want to come yet.
Jack leaned back further, freeing his cock from my mouth with a popping sound. He bent down to kiss my lips sweetly and adjusted his body so my dick rode the crease of his ass in a maneuver that had us both sighing. Jack crawled over me toward the nightstand, opened a drawer, and came back with a condom and lube.
“We’re going slow now, honey. You doin’ okay?”
“Mmm.” I licked my lips in anticipation. I hadn’t been on the receiving end in some time. Hell, I hadn’t had actual sex in a while.
Jack sat back on his knees between my open thighs. I heard the bottle top from the lube click open and shut. My mouth went dry. Jack lifted my left leg and set it over his right shoulder, just as he’d promised to do earlier. We looked at each other and shared a brief smile before Jack got back to work, coating his fingers with the cool gel. I swallowed around the lump in my throat at the first feel of pressure on my hole.
He gently massaged the surrounding sensitive skin before slipping one finger inside me. I felt sweat bead on my forehead and tried to remember to breathe as Jack worked his digit in and out slowly. He gripped my rigid cock in his other hand and stroked me as he worked a second finger inside me. I was writhing in pleasure and moaning deliriously when he pulled back completely.
The sound of a condom being unwrapped made my skin tingle in anticipation. I bit my lip and waited while Jack worked more lube into my entrance and on his covered cock, pumping himself like a porn star in his fist before coming back to lean over me on one arm. I watched his blue eyes darken as he set his throbbing member on my hole and gently pushed.
He pulled back almost immediately before repeating the motion. Then he guided my other leg up over his left shoulder and bent forward to kiss me. It was one kiss. Soft and sweet. Then a second, more demanding. His tongue requested entrance the third time, and he took advantage of my distraction to push himself completely inside me. We stopped for a moment, our sweaty foreheads resting on each other as we let our bodies adjust to being joined. And then he moved.
Jack was true to his word. He kept a slow and languid pace, moving deeply inside me before pulling almost all the way out, only to delve more deeply on the next stroke. He fastened his mouth over mine and sucked on my tongue, moved to bite my lips, my jaw, my chin, and then rained soft kisses all over my neck. I reached down to hold his ass close to me. I wanted to feel as much of him as possible. He was well-endowed, but my body had adjusted well, and I was overwhelmed by the desire for more. More friction. More Jack. I grasped at his ass firmly, hoping to get my point across without speaking.
“Tell me what you want.” Jack fucked into me hard, sending my body back a couple of inches toward the headboard. His gorgeous muscles glistened with a fine layer of sweat, making him look even more godlike and powerful than ever.
“Just fuck me, Jack. Harder.”
I watched his Adam’s apple move once before he nodded and gently moved my legs from his shoulders to wrap around his waist. He looked deeply in my eyes.
“Your ankle okay?”
“Screw my ankle, Jack. Fuck me!”
He chuckled, then leaned over me and did as I asked. He held my body tightly, pistoning his hips rapidly in a frenzied speed. I’d never felt so overpowered in my life. I gave him complete control, and he delivered, moving gloriously within me as he buried his nose in my neck, nuzzling, licking, and kissing. I pulled at his hair when the sensations became too much, and Jack went a little crazier. He propped himself up on one arm and lifted one of my legs back over his shoulder, changing the angle so he hit my prostate at each pass. Then he grabbed my cock in one hand and jacked me off as he fucked me.
I felt the wave of release come for me. A tidal wave. I cried out his name and shuddered beneath him as my orgasm claimed me. Jack milked my cock dry, literally wringing every last drop from me. His hips stilled, though he was harder than ever inside me. I gazed up through hooded eyes to see what he would do next. He brought his forefinger down to the mess of come splattered across my stomach and traced a squiggly line from my left nipple down to my belly button. I stared at him, mesmerized, as he brought his finger to his mouth, closing his eyes as he sucked it clean. He repeated the motion, this time starting at the opposite nipple, and gave me my own come to lick as though offering a magical elixir.
I should have been disgusted. I’d never tasted myself like this before. Sure, I’d tasted my own precum when fooling around with previous lovers, but I’d never shared it in quite this way. And I found it to be an incredible aphrodisiac. My spent dick became interested all over again. I lowered my hand to touch myself as I sucked hard on Jack’s finger. He groaned loudly and finally lost control, coming wildly as he bucked his hips over and over into me. He collapsed on top of me, silently quaking and shuddering in release.
Jack lay still for a moment before gingerly detaching our sweat-and-come-slicked bodies. He kissed my forehead once, then pulled away. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of him walking toward the bathroom and running water. I looked up when I felt the bed shift under his weight. He held a washcloth in one hand and was wearing a very self-satisfied grin.
“Hey. You sure made a mess, honey,” he teased as he cleaned my chest with the warm cloth, removing all traces of his earlier finger-painting.
I just smiled. I was too wrung out to banter. I had easily just experienced the best sex of my life.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent in bed, taking time to explore, touch, and tease. I laid my head on Jack’s chest and traced the fiery flames drawn in deep shades of orange and red on his upper left arm.
“What was the first one you ever got?”
“First what? Blowjob?” Jack ruffled my hair playfully and gave me a devilish look. “I know the last one I got was pretty fucking spectacular.”
I felt my cheeks redden at the crudely carnal compliment. “No, tattoo… and how old were you?”
I laid my head flat again, content to listen to the deep timbre of his voice while my hands roamed over his flat stomach and up over his rib cage. I loved the feel of his skin. He was smooth all over, and although I knew he probably had some professional manscaping done, it seemed natural. I didn’t think I had a preference about how much hair a guy had on his body, but I admired Jack’s hard, muscled frame. His tattoos were a perfect juxtaposition to the otherwise uninterrupted fluidity of his manly physique.
“My first one was this little dragon here. Can you see him?” Jack pulled his left arm over for me to examine.
“Barely. It’s small.”
“I know. I wanted to do something much more grand but I was talked into taking it slow. So I began with this fire-breathing, small, mystical little fella and went back the next week for more. And then more… trying new color and new design like any artist would on canvas. I’m sure I’m still not done.”
“Well, you have more available real estate here,” I observed. “The goal isn’t to cover your entire body, is it?”
Jack chuckled, sending a thrill through me as his mirthful tone sounded from his chest. “No. But on the other hand, there is no goal really.”
Jack pushed me slightly so he could shift to his side to face me. His room had darkened, heralding the twilight hour.
“I’ve come to appreciate that you don’t always have to have a reason. Some things just feel right, you know? Anyone can talk themselves out of a tattoo, so the reason for doing it in the first place should be deeply personal. At eighteen I wanted to be cool, I wanted something to mark me as being something stronger, bigger, and better than the scrawny smart-ass kid I was. I won’t say my dragon was responsible for me becoming who I am today, but in a way, he was.” Jack stopped and pointed his finger at me, tapping my nose once. “You’re looking at me funny. You don’t understand, do you?”
“No. Don’t get me wrong, I love your ink. I do. But I don’t see how?—”
“Let me try again. Every time I added something, whether or not I was cognizant of it, I was marking a time in my life. Some were better than others, but they are personal in the most obvious sense because I physically wear them. Better?”
“What about the guy who gets a drunken ‘I love Mom’ tattooed over his heart? Or the girl who does a fat tramp stamp butterfly, or the?—”
Jack moved his finger to my lips to silence me. “I can’t speak for anyone else. This”—he pointed with one arm to the other and then made a sweeping gesture over his torso—“is me, for me. I’ve never once gotten work done for anyone or with anyone in mind.”
“Really? I mean, you’ve been in long-term relationships in the past. Turn over. Is there a heart on your ass I didn’t detect earlier from an old boyfriend?”
Jack sneered and rolled his eyes by way of an answer.
“I know this is a little nosey, but… did you mostly always date guys with tats?” It sounded like a stupid question to my own ears, but I wondered how I fit in Jack’s world. Or if I did at all.
“Some guys I’ve been with have had ink, some not.” He frowned, his thick brows creased in confusion. “Why do I get the impression we’re talking about something else? What are you really asking me, honey?”
I was naked with a bum ankle in his bed and was in no position to easily evade his direct inquiry. But I tried. I lay flat on the pillow for a moment and made an effort to look down at my ankle, but Jack didn’t buy it. He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger in that familiar way of his, steering my head toward him.
“Nice try. Well?”
“I don’t… fuck. I’m….”
“I think you do.”
“What?”
“Fuck. You said ‘I don’t fuck,’ but since we just… sorry. Bad joke.” He offered me a mock apologetic grimace.
“Ha-ha.” I grinned at his silliness and turned back on my side to face him. “I just figured you’d probably be interested in someone more like you.”
“Versus? Someone like you?” His blue eyes were inscrutable. However, I was reeling in a state of personal shock. I couldn’t believe I’d been so forthcoming with my feelings of inadequacy. It was ridiculous. What was I hoping to accomplish besides putting Jack on the spot and making myself sound paranoid and pathetic?
“Uh… hey, it’s getting dark. I hate to ask, but I’m going to need a ride ho?—”
Jack reached out and caressed my arm. His touch was soft but morphed into a firm massage on my biceps before he pulled my body flush against his. We were now so close I couldn’t see him clearly, but I felt him. Felt his flesh grow hard between us as he sighed into my neck.
“Shh. I’m not sure who you think I am exactly, but I want to assure you”—he took hold of my left hand and guided downward, placing my warm palm on his hard member—“I am very fucking interested in someone like you. Can you tell or should I show you again?”
I heard a small gurgling noise bubbling like a whimper inside of me. Words were unnecessary. Who cared why? I was here in Jack’s bed and he obviously wanted me. What else mattered?