12. Jace
Chapter twelve
Jace
T he last hour feels more like ten. That isn’t a total shock—the last hour of a road trip is always the longest—but it’s never felt this long before.
I think that’s because I’ve never had anyone waiting for me at the end of the drive, and the anticipation of seeing Blake again has me on pins and needles.
Or maybe my ass is just asleep.
Pulling into the outskirts of town, my heartbeat accelerates, and my achy muscles itch to move.
Although we’ve talked or texted every day, that didn’t even begin to fill the void of not being able to see Blake’s face or feel his body next to mine.
Is that a new relationship thing, or will coming home to him always feel like this? I guess time will tell.
It’s going on six when I finally pull into the drive after I drop my trailer at Axel’s.
Since the sun hasn’t set there aren’t any obvious signs that Blake is home, like lights glowing in the window.
That kicks my heartbeat up another notch, and not in a good way.
A mix of panic and dread floods my chest, and the idea that he might not be here makes me physically uneasy.
And then the hum of the TV drifts toward me as I open the door, and the pressure in my chest subsides.
He’s here .
Trying to ignore the mini breakdown I just experienced, I step inside and watch Blake, unnoticed, while I take a moment to get myself in check. His hazel eyes are unfocused as he flips aimlessly through the channels, so deep in thought the images on the screen don’t seem to register.
I desperately want to know what’s going on in his mind, but rather than intrude, I stay still and let my eyes roam. There’s a slight tension in his broad shoulders, a tiny crease between his brows, though he doesn’t look mad, just serious. It’s sort of hot.
Our short time together has already revealed that Blake’s a deep thinker, carefully weighing every angle before he speaks.
I’m sure that stems from keeping his secrets locked down tight, and I wonder briefly if that means I’m the reason for his current state.
If he’s having second thoughts about what it means to be with me.
Then he blinks me into focus as he registers my presence, and he smiles so big I’m damn near blinded by his white teeth.
Whatever had him preoccupied seconds ago is gone—it straight up vanishes—as he leaps up from the couch and closes the distance between us, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me firmly against his chest. No second thoughts, then.
I’m not sure how my presence alone can get this reaction, but it definitely makes me feel like I’m doing the right thing moving in, even if it’s a little soon to take this step.
“Damn I’m glad you’re back.” His voice is raspy against my ear. “Do you need help unpacking?”
“Later.” I reach behind his head and pull him to me, crushing our lips together.
The combination of soft lips and rough stubble brush against me, a sensation that has my cock stirring, and after several days apart it’s eager for his touch.
I drag my hand down his chest, over his flat stomach, until I find the button on his shorts.
“It’s been too long,” I groan, tugging it open.
“Holy hell.” Blake’s head falls back as I take him in my fist, already hard as granite for me. “I guess you missed me, too?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to play coy, to say something like I missed his dick, so I don’t come on too strong.
The words don’t come, though, which is probably a good thing since they’d cheapen the moment, and while I missed him physically, that’s not all this is.
Unfortunately, the right words don’t come to mind, and even if they did, chances are it’s too soon to say them aloud.
Instead, I pull my rigid cock out and line it up with his, stroking both of us together. “What do you think?” I rasp.
“I think there’s nothing hotter than feeling your dick rub against mine.” Blake puts just enough distance between our chests that he can watch my hand move. “Bedroom. Now,” he growls.
“Later. This feels too good to stop.”
Blake groans but makes no attempt to move, his body evidently agreeing with me. Trapped in my fist, he rocks his hips slightly, chasing the friction between us. It’s mind blowing.
If I’m being honest, a hard dick is one of my favorite things to feel next to my own.
Not that I don’t enjoy a wet mouth, a warm pussy, or a tight ass.
They all feel fucking incredible. But they’re all soft in their own way, and sometimes you just want the unyielding pressure of a firm cock pressing against yours.
Standing in the living room, shorts pooled around our ankles, I stroke and squeeze and fondle us both, coaxing him to the brink.
Each time I feel him start to lurch in my fist, I let go and reach for his balls, massaging them until his release is out of reach.
Then I start all over again, teasing him to the point of no return and backing off before he falls over it .
Our tongues dance as my fist glides over our shafts, anxious groans morphing to tiny whimpers that I eagerly swallow each time I coax him back from the precipice.
Unlike our encounter at the spa, he’s not shy about the sounds he makes in my arms, and I love seeing this uninhibited side of him.
I love that he feels the freedom to be who he is, to chase the pleasure he wants, without fear.
I’m betting he hasn’t had many encounters where he could fully embrace the moment, and selfishly, I’m hoping that moments like these translate into him wanting to embrace everything about me— us —to the point he doesn’t feel like he has to hide.
Blake’s hands roam my body, looking for purchase.
He clutches at my chest, my hips, my ass, seemingly desperate for something to hang on to.
He’s virtually writhing in my arms while standing upright, and I love knowing I’ve got his body so hot he can’t contain the restless energy coursing through it.
I feel the same way.
It’s damn near impossible not to swivel my hips to increase the friction, and with him damn near humping my hand I’m afraid I’ll lose my grip on one of us if I move too.
The only consolation is that his cockhead keeps nudging the sensitive ridge underneath my crown, and that delicious pressure is incentive to stay still while he squirms in my arms.
“Jace, please,” Blake groans after I’ve edged him for the third time. The desperation in his tone has me nearly ready to burst, so I tighten my grip and shuttle my hand as fast as my body will allow, working us both until we explode.
For a few seconds we remain stagnant, frozen in place as our dicks quiver in my fist. Blake is the first to move, a relieved cry spilling from his lips as he rests his forehead against mine, gasping as the aftershocks course through him.
I’m only slightly more stable, chest heaving erratically as our cum mixes together and drips over my fist.
Best homecoming ever.
Once empty, Blake staggers over to the couch and collapses onto the cushions, chest rising and falling heavily underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. I strip mine off to clean up and pull up my boxers before flopping down next to him.
“If that’s what happens when you come home from a trip, I’m less opposed to Axel dragging you away for work.” Blake lifts his head up just long enough for his eyes to roam over me then lets it fall limp against the cushion.
“I’m not sure how much work travel I’ll have with him now that he’s got this new training venture.
” I run a hand through my hair to brush the sweaty strands off my forehead.
“We haven’t talked specifics about his future plans, although my guess is he’ll retire from the competition circuit sooner rather than later, which probably means fewer road trips for me. Speaking of work, how’s the new boss.”
Blake opens his mouth and shuts it, opens it again, and blows out a frustrated breath. “He’s… cool.”
It could be the exertion from what we just did, but I get the feeling the red in his cheeks isn’t from post nut euphoria.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
“I am. I mean, I’m convinced he’s cool. It’s just that…” He lifts his head, eyes darting nervously to mine as he licks his lips.
The panicky feeling I had on the road earlier comes back with a vengeance, and I struggle to keep my voice level. “What?”
“Turns out I already knew him. We…” He drops his gaze to his lap, which like mine, is only covered by the thin fabric of his boxers.
“You fucked,” I sigh, closing my eyes.
“Yeah.” His fingers tug at the material hugging his thigh .
“Did you again?” I’m surprised at how calm I sound when my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. What’s the right response here?
We said we’d try the dating thing, but we didn’t specify we’d be exclusive.
I sort of assumed we would be since there aren’t any other guys in town for him to hook up with, and he left the spa where he used to find them.
Plus, by Blake’s own admission, he’s only ever had a repeat with me, so I took that to mean I’m special somehow.
Important enough to be the only man he’s sleeping with.
But since we never set any boundaries, I can’t be upset if he crossed one he didn’t know I expected to be in place.
“No. I didn’t sleep with him.” Blake says evenly. Too evenly.
“You wanted to, though.”
“I told you I want to make this work.” It’s not an admission, but he’s not disagreeing with me, either, and I don’t know how to feel about that.
Truthfully, I’ve never given serious relationships a lot of thought, not because I don’t believe in them, but because it’s never come up before. And if I really get into the weeds, I think the idea of a relationship might look different for me than it does other people.