Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CALLAN
It takes me about half a second to process the question before I’m on my feet and following him down the hallway. I can hear Slapshot starting to lick our plates before I’m even fully out of the living room, but it’s just a little leftover orange glaze; he’ll be fine. Bon appétit, little buddy.
I grab my shirt by the collar and tug it over my head as I step into his bedroom, my dick already tenting my shorts and every inch of my skin buzzing to feel Diego’s.
I don’t have a damn clue where his head is at with all this, but it already feels like things are different as I drop my shirt on the floor and stop in the doorway to look at him a few feet away on the bed.
We’re in his bedroom, for one thing, which feels…
I don’t know, official or something. It will be really damn hard for him to pretend later, even in the privacy of his own mind, that this is something that “just happened,” or that it’s curiosity getting out of hand.
But I guess that’s for him to sort out. I just need to try not to read too much into it or let myself get carried away.
Just because he’s looking at me like that as he lifts his hips off the bed to shove his shorts down, already breathing a little hard, eyeing my remaining clothes like he can’t figure out why I’m not naked yet, doesn’t mean anything has really changed.
“I want you to make me feel so good that this meeting is the last fucking thing on my mind.” That’s all this is. A distraction. I can be that. I’m happy to be that. I just need to remember that it doesn’t mean anything more.
Fuck, he looks like a wet dream come to life, naked on the edge of the bed, his hands braced behind him like he’s trying to be casual.
But his hard cock and flushed skin are giving him away, telling the story that he’s anything but indifferent or casual about whatever is about to happen.
I slide my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts, catching my jock along with them, and Diego’s breath audibly hitches in anticipation.
A cocky grin stretches over my face. For a hot second I consider dragging it out, taking my sweet time, making him wait until he can’t take it anymore and begs me to take my damn clothes off.
I’m not feeling very patient myself right now though, so I discard that idea even quicker than my shorts hit the floor. My cock bounces as I kick them off to the side and take a step closer to Diego.
The way his eyes roam over my naked body makes my chest swell up with a cocky kind of pride and my dick jerk as it gets just a little bit harder and thicker.
His gaze lingers on each part of me for a few long seconds, making me very aware that he’s seeing me completely naked for the first time.
He stares at my broad, hairy chest, my flat stomach with my half-outie belly button and a dark happy trail that runs down to join my bush, all the way to my swinging cock and heavy, aching balls.
I brace myself for the possibility that seeing me completely naked and undeniably masculine here in his bedroom might be the thing that finally snaps him out of whatever bi-curious vacation he’s been on and sends him running straight back to his comfort zone—pun intended.
He darts his tongue out to wet his lips.
The move seems completely unconscious, but it makes my cock twitch again anyway, eager to feel those soft, damp lips sliding up and down my shaft.
Would he moan the first time he felt the weight of my cock in his mouth?
Would his eyes flash with momentary surprise at the first little burst of salty, sweet precum he tasted?
Would it turn him on to make my knees weak with just the right flick of his tongue?
I’m getting way ahead of myself. No one said anything about Diego sucking my cock.
I’m still not even sure if he’s having second thoughts now that we’re here in his bedroom, both naked and hard, with nothing but the sound of our shared heavy breathing and the distant traffic noises to punctuate the impossibly long amount of time that he spends looking at me before he reaches out and tentatively puts his hand on my stomach.
My abs tighten, heat blooming on my skin, and a moan rises in my throat.
The sound turns into a rumbling laugh on its way out.
Diego gives me a curious look but I just shake my head.
I’m not about to tell him that I’m so fucking hard up to have his hands on me that I’m ready to start moaning like a horny virgin because he touched my stomach.
I’m supposed to be the calm, cool, collected one here, and instead I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin.
He puts his other hand on me, alongside the first, just below my ribcage, and he stares at them as he slowly slides both up to my chest. His palms graze my stiff nipples, and his fingers grab greedily at the mounds of my pecs, his breath coming out just a little bit faster and his cock visibly twitching.
He laughs. It’s a quiet sound, barely more than an exhale, but it makes me nervous and curious at the same time.
I guess I deserve that since I just did the same thing to him without explanation.
I put my hands over his and press them harder into my skin, shuffling another half step closer, forcing his thighs apart with mine so I can stand between them at the foot of the bed.
He tilts his head back so he can look up at me and darts his tongue out to lick his lips again.
The warmth of his thighs pressed against mine is nearly enough to make me fucking feral.
I want to skip past all of this careful, tentative, bullshit and climb on top of him instead.
I want to feel his hot, naked body get sweaty underneath mine as we hump and grind against each other, getting lost in groping hands and tangled tongues until we’re covered in each other’s cum again like last time.
This time would be even better though, because his sheets will be messy too, and we won’t have to rush off before someone comes in and catches us hooking up in a public locker room.
I drag my thumb along his damp bottom lip, tracing the shape of his smile.
“What’s funny?” I ask, more gruffly than I intend to.
He shakes his head and gently bites down on the pad of my thumb, his teeth lightly grazing it. I can feel it all the way down to my cock—the heat of his mouth, the tease of his teeth—and my balls tighten, aching with need.
“I was just thinking that I’ve low-key wanted to grab a handful of your man titties for a while now and… uh… maybe that’s not the straightest thing in the world.” His lips move against my thumb with each word before I slide my hand down to cup his jaw instead.
“Man titties?” I chuckle.
The sound makes my chest bounce, and his hands move up and down with the motion of it, his fingers sinking in deeper again like he doesn’t want to have to let go.
I’m certainly not about to forcibly remove him.
As far as I’m concerned, his fingers digging into my pecs can become a permanent fixture if he wants.
We can walk around all day with his hands inside my shirt, his palms unintentionally teasing my nipples, that look of amused, heated awe simmering in his eyes.
“Big, hairy pecs?” he corrects himself, leaning forward until his face is nearly between them, his eyes still on mine, his hot breath ruffling my chest hair and dancing over my skin. “I guess there isn’t really anything all that straight about being naked in my bedroom with you.”
Nerves prickle in my gut.
Don’t panic on me now, Fergie. I run my thumb gently back and forth along the rough stubble on his chin and give him a reassuring smile.
“It’s whatever, Fergie. Don’t stress about it.”
There’s a flicker of something that almost looks like disappointment in his eyes that makes me wonder if I said the wrong thing.
But it’s gone in a blink, replaced by lust and a spark of challenge that reminds me why I’m having such a hard time not making this more than it is.
He matches my energy like no one ever has before.
He can pretend I’m the overly competitive one, but he loves proving himself just as much as I do.
I’m just not sure what exactly it is he’s thinking about proving right now as he presses his thighs briefly against my legs and scoots right up to the edge of the bed until my cock nudges against his chest.
He lowers his hands and drags the hot, wet flat of his tongue over my pebbled nipple, scattering any thoughts in my head about fleeting looks or the dangers of cocky, maybe-not-so-straight men.
A moan vibrates in my throat, and he replaces his tongue with his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a bolt of electricity straight to my cock.
I tangle my fingers in his hair and my hips jerk as his lips start to wander.
DIEGO
I think it started as a way to prove something to him, or maybe test myself.
I can’t quite remember now because the only thoughts in my head are about the sounds Callan’s making as I lick and suck my way from one nipple to the other and back again, kissing and biting the swell of his pecs along the way.
I keep waiting for the feeling of his chest hair tickling my lips to bother me, but my cock is still hard and everything inside of me just keeps chanting more.
I want to taste more of his skin. I want to hear more of his moans, not muffled and careful this time, but full-throated and desperate.
Some reckless part of me wants to do something that would be almost impossible to justify later as nothing more than horny straight guy behavior.
Maybe it’s because of this clawing feeling of defiance building in my chest, or because it’s a surefire way to keep myself from thinking about the meeting next week, but I don’t want to play it safe right now.