Chapter 7 The one over the kitchen counter
Like a kid on Christmas, Jared had spent the rest of the day too excited for what was to come. Yeah, okay, that comparison was disgusting, but it was what it was.
After months of secretly longing to touch Dylan, and the kiss that undeniably changed the synergy between them, Jared was ready to jump onto the crazy train of sporadic wild sex.
With the heartbreak he’d gone through over the past few weeks, Jared didn’t have any expectations for his future romantic life. He just wanted to focus on himself. Love was overrated, and it felt like the biggest lie in history.
People should come with warning labels: “Cheater”, “Fake”, “Helpless piece of shit”, “Fucking hazard to your mental health”. It would be so much easier to navigate life like that.
Somewhere in the back of his mind though, his conscience was telling him this was a paper-thin and super unstable wall of self-preservation. That in reality, he’d like to find his person at some point. That he wanted to believe in love again, even if he was hurting now.
Until that happened, he was more than happy to fool around with Dylan. They were on the same page. The man had been burned several times, and at thirty-seven he’d embraced his solitude, admitting that it was better than being in bad company.
Jared agreed. Although deep down, for some unknown reason, it stung.
But he didn’t pay much attention to this flicker of emotion.
It was totally ego bullshit. He just needed to be seen, more so now, after the whole cheating drama left him with a crippling lack of self-esteem.
All his insecurities had resurfaced with a vengeance, ready to ruin everything he’d achieved.
This was definitely not something he thought he’d have to deal with again at his age.
He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let his past mistakes define his future. And maybe some people would argue it was stupid to seek validation in a fling. But why let the chance to have fun slip between his fingers?
Sex can sometimes be a lot more complicated than we want to acknowledge.
It can be weaponized or denied. It can be used as a bargaining chip, or it can be an act of possessiveness.
Even between two lovers, in its simplest form, sex is usually always accompanied by an immense array of other feelings.
Sure, the greed biting him lately was an attempt to feel better about himself.
To feel wanted, desired, and self-assured because he was getting attention from an incredibly stunning man like Dylan.
But he was also truly attracted to him. The idea of touching him, of reveling in the sensation of their naked flesh rising in flames, had been haunting his dreams.
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Jared released a sigh that weighed too much on his chest for a bunch of minuscule particles of air.
His fingers drummed relentlessly on the steering wheel as he inched forward in the never-ending line of vehicles. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard for the gazillionth time.
The worst thing about driving to work was the stupid traffic jams, which were even more terrible at the end of the day.
He could be stuck there for an extra thirty minutes, and that’s if no accidents happened.
It was ridiculous. Still, it was better than taking the train, where he’d spend around an hour and a half on each trip.
He hated it more today, of all days, though.
He wanted to get home already.
After having fought the urge to leave early and fuck each other’s brains out the entire afternoon, their shift had finally ended. Both Jared and Dylan left the office like nothing had happened a few hours prior, chit-chatting with Cora and Penny on their way out.
Jared hadn’t been able to stop looking at Dylan as if it was the first time, the memories of their moans echoing in the bathroom causing mayhem in his pants.
But he’d almost lost it when Dylan flashed him a wicked grin before putting on his helmet, his tight muscular body wrapped in motorcycle jacket.
Fuck. He looked hot in that shit.
Finally, after what felt like forever, Jared drove into the car park and pulled over beside Dylan’s bike, and took a moment to compose himself. His palms were sweaty and his heart was beating wildly.
Fucking fuck.
Most of the time, when people were about to bang someone new, they didn’t care about anything.
Especially if it was just a one-night thing or a temporary hookup.
All anyone cared about in those situations was getting their fix.
It wasn’t as if Jared wanted anything more than a physical interaction, and this wouldn’t be his first time doing a man, but holy hell, he was nervous.
The nonsense continued back and forth in his head for a few more minutes, but when the images of that morning in the bathroom became stronger, Jared’s dick got the memo his brain refused to understand.
The weeks of dancing around each other, the stolen glances, and the not-so-accidental caresses were nearing their end.
Like Dexter would say, tonight’s the night. Because he was going to pierce, penetrate, and slay Dylan until they were both so exhausted they couldn’t blink.
Usually with a dude like him—bulky and big enough to treat him like a ragdoll—he’d start out getting dicked himself, but Dylan seemed to be craving the opposite. And he was more than willing to give him whatever the fuck he wanted.
Checking himself in the rearview mirror, Jared ran his fingers through his already messy hair and took a deep breath. You’ve got this.
As he walked around the block and into the building, his heart raced. Would he already be there? Was Dylan as nervous as he was? Did he want this as badly as Jared did?
The clinking of his keys as he turned them in the bolt morphed with his shallow breaths, reverberating in the hallway and his chest.
Once inside, all the hesitation and self-doubt disappeared. Dylan was waiting for him… in all his naked glory.
“It’s about time,” he quipped, a dangerous aura flowing out of him.
Everything about this man, from the way his blue eyes sparkled with dirty promises to his movements and the way his massive cock bounced with each step he took, was spectacular, devastatingly so.
“Sorry, darling,” Jared teased back, feeling his signature sarcasm emerge among all the fears. “The traffic was hell.”
“Maybe next time you should ride with me.”
Jared rolled his eyes. Dylan had insisted several times on riding his motorcycle to work, but Jared had no interest in that two-wheeled hazard. However, the one in front of him right now was a different thing.
Letting his bag fall to the floor with a resounding thud, Jared tossed his coat on the sofa and closed the distance between them, crashing their mouths together. Incipient stubble scraped his lips. Soft and rough all at once, just like Dylan.
His hands reached for his friend’s neck, clawing at him before exploring his body. He’d been hanging by a thread since the morning, hardening and softening in painful interludes for hours. But the wait was finally over.
With his clothes being ripped and dropped on the floor, Jared backed Dylan against the kitchen counter.
His fingers dug into his hips possessively.
They hadn’t talked about it, doubted they would.
Still, he knew where they stood, what they were, and what to expect from this.
But whenever they got entangled in the sheets, this man would be only his.
“Fuck…” Jared breathed out between kisses. “It’s been so fucking long. Can’t wait to be buried in you—” He quirked a brow, and his cock quite literally jabbed the front of his jeans.
Mindlessly, his palms had continued their journey over the slopes and valleys of Dylan’s incredibly sexy V and ass.
He was sure they both wanted this, judging by the way things had developed that morning.
What he didn’t expect was to find him so ready.
.. wet and throbbing, wearing a fucking butt plug.
“You want it so bad you couldn’t wait for me to open your tight hole, huh?”
“We can play that game another day.” Dylan forcefully gripped Jared’s jaw, pulling his lips just an inch away from his. “Now fuck me.”
Jared shoved him backwards, blackness easing at the corners of his vision.
He loved it when brawny alphas thought they could overpower him because they looked stronger.
Older men also saw him as a harmless, pretty thing they could lecture.
What none of them ever considered was that under the mask of calmness he wore, there was a vicious creature yearning to be unleashed.
Before Dylan could add another word or make use of any other caveman tendencies, Jared forced him to turn around.
“That’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” He bit his earlobe while slowly sliding out the plug. “So fucking hard you’re gonna beg me to stop.”
“Try me.”
Grabbing the bottle of lube from the counter—Dylan, of course, had thought of everything—Jared stroked himself a few times, his free palm never leaving his friend’s shoulder. He was shaking with anticipation, heart hammering against his ribs when Dylan pushed his ass out, inviting him in.
Jared guided his cock with his left hand while the other moved to Dylan’s hip. He had no patience or self-control around this man. Not when he was naked and pleading to be used.
Pressing the tip to his hole, Jared slowly glided in. Fuck... Oh, fuck...
Magnetic fields collided and the world spun around faster, only to come to an abrupt halt when Dylan exhaled a moan.
With his forehead touching the back of his friend’s head, Jared took a second to pull himself together. The sounds this man made drove him insane.
Dylan stifled a groan, rocking his hips back, taking every raw inch of Jared inside of him in a swift movement. They both let out a languid sigh, as if the pressure binding them to earth had evaporated.
“You feel fantastic,” Jared husked against Dylan’s ear, his hands massaging every inch of him.