12. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Christian
N oah sat, nibbling on his toast while I’d barely touched my eggs.
Last night’s debacle still hung heavy in the air.
I’d texted Malcom to make sure he was okay. Well, under the pretext of a wellness check. He’d apologized, saying something about an emergency. I hadn’t assessed him as a guy who might lie, but that didn’t mean he’d been truthful.
Soren had popped off a quick text to Noah, saying how he’d left Tibby alone too long and how he’d needed to get home. Okay…sure… But why not at least say goodbye before taking off?
The guys’ actions made me wonder if maybe they’d hooked up. If they’d found in each other what each had clearly found lacking in Noah and me .
I was especially peeved at Soren. He’d looked at Noah and found him lacking? Lacking in what? Noah was damn near perfect. Hell, most of the time he was perfect.
How do I move us past this impasse? He’s looked at me a couple of times this morning. Is he seeing me differently? Can I take advantage of this? Is pressing forward the right thing to do, or should I be backing off?
Fuck it. "I've never kissed a guy before—can you show me how it's done?" I sipped my coffee.
Noah’s gaze shot from his toast to mine. “Could you repeat that?”
“Well, I’ve never kissed a guy before.” I shrugged casually.
“Can you show me how it’s done?” In truth, I’d barely kissed a girl either.
Laura and I had exchanged a couple of attempts—like if we could somehow make out, then we could make our relationship work.
How’d that work out for you? And you think it’ll be different with Noah?
He’s got to want you — he doesn’t right now.
Sometimes I hated when my inner voice was right.
Noah cocked his head in that way I found so endearing—like he was trying to solve some great puzzle of the universe.
Only this time, things were entirely simple. I wanted him. Would do anything for him. Hell, I’d moved across the country so he wouldn’t be alone. Now, some of that had been self-interest. Getting away from my hometown, the Frankstons, and—most especially—my parents, had been critical.
“Christian?” His voice croaked a little—as it often did so early. He was definitely not a morning person.
“Hmm?” I took a sip of orange juice.
“You say you love me?” His nose did that little wrinkly thing I found so endearing.
“Yep.” The congealing eggs really needed to be eaten, but Noah’s dark-brown eyes held me mesmerized.
He cleared his throat. “Like in a sterile, non-sexual way?”
Truly adorable. “No. Not at all.” My toast, with strawberry jam, was slightly more appealing, so I bit into that.
He eyed me. “So...? If I said I wanted to take you to bed right now? You'd just agree?” Dubiousness permeated his words.
Be honest with him…even if your first inclination is to jump up and down and yell, ‘hell, yes’.
I took a breath—and also a moment to compose myself.
“Well, no. I'd first ask you what you meant by that, because I'm a virgin, and therefore I don't think I'm ready for you to fuck me through your headboard on the first night. I need to work up to that.” I tilted my head, as if in consideration. “But I might be wrong about that.”
He gaped. “About which part? The I’m a virgin part, or the fuck me through your headboard part? Because I have to say…” And then he didn’t say anything. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no actual words came out.
Finally, “You're.... a v-virgin?”
I enjoyed how he stuttered the last word.
“Yep.” Said with great enthusiasm. “But if you want to make me a non-virgin, I'd be very happy to cooperate.” A grin split my face at the idea of doing all those firsts with Noah.
Because as much as I saw him as my best friend, I also wanted so much more—intimacy, caring, and affection.
I wanted him to love me the way I loved him.
“Uh.... I think I need to think about this.” He drank several mouthfuls of coffee.
“Okay. Take your time. There’s no rush.” Because I didn’t see him kicking me out, and I certainly wasn’t going to turf him. I was sort of relieved things hadn’t worked out with either Soren or Malcolm last night .
Noah blinked. “Oh my God. You're so not bothered about this, are you?” His pupils were again wide as he clearly tried to sort out the conundrum that was me.
“I love you. I will take as much or as little as you're willing to give.” To me, things really were that simple. Really were that black and white.
He squinted in that way he did when he was thinking really, really, really hard. “And if I said I wanted you naked in my bed in three minutes and I was going to fuck you through my headboard, you'd go along with it?”
I grinned. “But you wouldn't say that to me, Noah.
I'm not one of your boyfriends. However, if you're willing to show me how to give a blow job, I'll go for it.” Because that idea intrigued me as much as the first day I’d realized that was a thing—probably way earlier than I was supposed to.
What could I say? I had a very creative imagination—especially when it came to coming up with ways to be intimate with Noah.
There’s that word again . Because, to me, this was so much more than just body parts coming together. To be a broken record…I loved him.
He let out a long breath. “Jesus Christ. Fucking Hell. You can't just say that sort of stuff to a guy and…”
I batted my eyelashes. “And…?”
After several attempts at coherent speech, he just spluttered nothing that made any sense.
So I took control of the situation. “Fine. I'll just sit here and watch my eggs congeal while you make up your mind. I start late today because the fresh-fruit shipment is arriving at three, and I need to get it all put away. Just to let you know, I’ll be a bit late home tonight. Go ahead and have dinner. I baked a lasagna yesterday, and it’s in the fridge, you can heat up a slice— "
“You really have never given a blow job?”
I hesitated. I could play this several different ways, Cheeky, serious, or honest. “Have you really never received a blow job from a white guy?” Honest always won.
“I’m not sure that’s the point I’m trying to make.” He pursed his lips. “It will be, like, a first for both of us, then...”
Yep, honest earned me brownie points.
“You’ll show me?” I downed the rest of my coffee.
“I’ve never been with a guy who hasn’t…you know…”
I arched an eyebrow. “Never been with a virgin? Well, this will be virgin territory for both of us.”
He groaned.
As I expected him to.
“Do I just get on my knees?” Because logistics were a thing. If I crouched between his spread thighs…but then I still needed to get his pants down. Could I…?
“Christian.”
“Hmm?”
“This is a big leap.”
“You don’t want a blow job?” I batted my eyelashes.
“Uh, is there a right way to answer that? Because most guys are not going to turn down a blow job.”
“Right. Well, no time like the present.” I pushed back from the table and made my way to him. I yanked his chair, that scraped on the vinyl floor but luckily didn’t leave a scuff mark.
“Hey.” His eyes went wide.
I grinned as I sank to my knees. “This is going to be so much fun.”
He groaned. “This is such a bad idea. We need to talk about…shit.”
“Blow job now. Talk later. Seems pretty simple to me.” And it did.
I just needed to get him in the mood. Despite having known him for twenty years, I didn’t really know what got him off.
He’d mentioned porn once and how it hadn’t gotten him excited .
Personally, I hadn’t thought that was a bad thing—but that was just my puritan family roots being exposed.
I preferred to be with someone and focused on them, rather than what might be on the screen. Mind made up, I grasped the tab on his zipper and attempted to pull it down.
He laid his hand over mine. “Christian.” A hoarse whisper.
“I want this, Noah. Have wanted it forever.” I gazed into his dark-brown eyes. “Maybe you didn’t know—”
“I didn’t.”
“Well, you do now. If you want me to stop, of course I will. But I just want to bring you pleasure. That doesn’t seem like a bad thing.”
He blinked. “It’s not. I’m just not certain I want your first time to be on a kitchen floor.”
“I swept up the dog hair before you arrived.”
Speaking of dogs, our three were happily hunkered down, with Stormy being covered by River and Sable.
They each had their own bed, but somehow, they were all on my girl’s.
They’d all slept in my room last night—given how late Noah returned, that had made sense.
Would we split them up tonight? I didn’t know.
“Sweeping and making breakfast? Somehow, I think I should be giving you a reward.”
My insides lit at his words—so he understood the intention behind the blow job. A reward. For him coming home. For us working through our differences. Not everything, to be sure, but much of it.
Slowly, he guided my hand to lower his zipper.
I grinned.
He held my gaze with an intensity I’d never seen before. Or I certainly didn’t remember seeing it before .
When I tried to pull down his boxer briefs—with an idea of liberating his, uh, cock, he rose a bit so he could yank them down over his hips.
Need to clean that seat. He might be newly out of the shower, but my little neat-freak heart knew what it wanted. Dog hair everywhere? That I could live with for a day or two.
Bare butt on the vinyl of a kitchen chair? Nope, that had to be cleaned.
He pressed his finger to my frown line. “I promise I’ll clean it up.” He pulled down his briefs, and his erection sprang free.
I licked my lips.
He chuckled. “Eager much?”
“Now I’ve decided on a course of action? Yes, I’m very eager—” I gave him a lascivious smile. “—and I think you are too.
“It’s been… What?”
“I’m not sure I want to hear about the last time you were with creepoid—”
He barked out a laugh. “You think Leroy ever gave me a blow job? Uh, yeah, that would be a hard no. Not his style. He liked to fuck and then promptly fall asleep—whether I’d gotten off of not.
Does that mean Noah would bottom for Leroy?
And what the fuck is no blow jobs ? Isn’t that a natural part of a relationship?
I really didn’t want to dwell on creepoid, so instead of focused on Noah’s gorgeous cock.
A little on the big side—compared to mine.
I didn’t have a lot of experience with this.
Actually none, but what did that matter?
I hadn’t snuck peeks at the guys in the locker room. I’d been all about getting in and out as quickly as possible. Team sports weren’t really my thing.
And that’s enough thinking about things that aren’t relative.
Gently, I traced my finger along his length. Soft and smooth—which wasn’t a surprise. Mostly flaccid—which was disappointing.
Yet, as I made a second, and then a third pass, his cock twitched.
A third and fourth sweep elicited a moan and a thickening shaft.
I took him in hand and gently squeezed—adding just enough wrist action to give a little twist.
“Yes.” He hissed. “That. Again.”
Emboldened, I repeated the action.
He grew even more in my hand.
I grinned. “Now?”
After meeting my gaze and holding it for a super long time, he nodded.
I got to work. I licked a drop of precum from his cock, even as he held himself still. As he grew harder and harder in my hand. “Yum.”
He chuckled.
Finally, I sucked his crown into my mouth.
His cock twitched.
Figuring that must mean I was doing something right, I swirled my tongue around the head as I pulled him deeper and deeper into my mouth. I grasped the base of his cock as I tried to bring more and more of him into my mouth.
And nearly gagged.
Great.
His hands on my cheeks gently guided me back, even as humiliation swept through me and heat rose in my cheeks.
“Christian?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you look at me? ”
Of course I could. I’d never deny him anything. So my gaze slowly rose to his.
“Although I appreciate what you’re trying to do, how about we take things slowly?”
I bobbed my head in acknowledgment. Then I tried again. This time, I was careful not to let him touch the back of my throat. Instead, I focused on swirling my tongue around him, sucking hard, and holding him steady.
His hands roamed aimlessly in my hair—alternating between pulling, fluffing, and then just holding still.
Although he was a guy frequently in motion, he could have moments of stillness when nothing around him moved.
“I’m coming, Christian. If you don’t want me to come in your—”
I sucked harder.
He jerked and then spurted in my mouth.
I continued to swallow as he filled my mouth. I’d never tasted cum before, so this was a bit disconcerting. On the other hand, it was erotic as hell. My cock strained against my jeans as I tried to tamp down the need rising within me.
Finally I pulled off him, easing his soft cock so it landed gently in the nestle of black curls.
“Are you hard?” He gazed into my eyes.
I nodded frantically.
He yanked up his T-shirt. “Will you come on me?”
Holy hell, you better believe I will. Even as I had the thought, I grasped his knees to lever myself into a standing position.
With unsteady hands, I unbuttoned my pants, and slid the zipper down.
Then I yanked out my dick and pumped it several times.
I barely had time to think about lube before my body went rigid.
I erupted and shot cum all over his stomach.
A bit landed on his T-shirt, and one rope splashed on his chin.
I held in the giggle—but it nearly burst out anyway.
I could barely hold myself upright and could only imagine how debauched I looked.
And he looked how I felt—blissed out and satisfied.
“God, Christian, you’re so beautiful.” Through hooded eyes, he managed to hold my gaze. “I think I always knew, but…” He drew in a lungful of air.
“You don’t have to—”
“I mean it.” He snapped that. Then winced. “Sorry. A little orgasm-drunk.”
I wasn’t certain that was a thing, but I held my tongue.
“You’ve always been attractive. You’re hit on all the time.”
He’s not wrong. So fight the instinct to argue — sometimes it’s okay to hear the truth — even if it makes you uncomfortable . “Thank you.”
“You think I’m bullshitting you. I’m not. All pale skin, tousled red hair, stunning green eyes. I’ve always taken you for granted. You’re Christian. My Christian. My best friend.”
Panic welled within me. “I still am, Noah. Nothing’s changed.”
With a chuckle, he ran his hands though the cum on his chest and licked his finger. “You tell yourself that.”
“I need to get cleaned up.” I tucked myself back into my pants and headed upstairs to the shower.
Nothing’s ever going to be the same again.