11. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
GRIFF
Unsurprisingly, Ledger has no problem sliding seamlessly into the group dynamics like he’s known these guys for ages instead of five minutes. I’ll never understand how some people can do it so easily, just walk right in and light up a room without even trying. Riley was always the same way. I never did figure out how I tricked him into sparing so much of that wattage for me, but damn if it didn’t feel good to bask in the glow.
His friend doesn’t seem to be having any trouble either, sitting at a table, chatting and drinking with Ren and Daniel.
“So, how do you know Griff?” West grins, glancing between Ledger and me while he chalks his pool cue.
I bite back a groan and tighten my grip on my own cue. I already know that the next time I go into the office one of those blank faces on the secret admirer suspects board is going to be replaced with a picture of Ledger. My gut tightens and I huff against the queasy, protective feeling and the urge to step in front of Ledger, as if blocking him from everyone’s view will keep them from making all kinds of wild assumptions.
Ledger just smiles right back though, all pearly white teeth and crinkled eyes.
“We’re neighbors. He basically saved my life when my pipes exploded and tried to drown me.” He leans over to line up his shot, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the lines of his shoulders and the curve of his ass in that position.
If I’m being honest, I haven’t missed sex as much as I thought I would. At first, I was too depressed and heartbroken to care, and over time, it was like my body just got used to the lack and I rarely thought about it. Until Ledger. I feel like he flipped a switch in me, like he reconnected the electricity in a long-abandoned building and suddenly everything is humming and alive again. I want to dig my fingers into his hips while he’s bent over like that and feel his tight ass clenching around my cock as he moans my name.
“It was nothing.” I huff again, shaking off the fantasy with an edge of amusement, hoping no one notices the stiffening bulge in my jeans. My lips twitch with a grin and I shake my head at Ledger’s dramatic description of the event.
“Wow, that’s pretty impressive,” Stone chimes in, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face too. I cast a helpless glance at his husband, leaning against one of the unused pool tables, wondering if there’s any chance he’ll rein his man in before he starts being all… Stone. But Dare is almost as good as I am at being the strong, silent type, just shaking his head and letting his husband carry on. “A heroic thing like that must inspire gratitude… maybe flowers?”
Subtle.
Ledger takes his shot, sending three balls ricocheting into different pockets. Stone curses and West frowns, and I bite back a genuine smile this time. This is our second game. During the first one Ledger held his cue the wrong way around twice and cheered enthusiastically when he sank the eight ball with all the rest of our balls still on the table. West casually suggested double or nothing this round and, miraculously, his skills have improved a hell of a lot.
He straightens up and licks his teeth. “I’ve found a way to show Griff my appreciation.”
Is it hot in here, or is it just me?
I tug at the collar of my t-shirt and Stone arches an eyebrow at me as before he takes his turn. They’ve got it all wrong, but I’m not about to stand here at the bar and rattle off all the reasons I’m sure Ledger isn’t my secret admirer. It would sound too pathetically self-deprecating to point out that he’s young and hot and incredibly magnetic. He’s not sitting at home staring at my grumpy, middle-aged ass through the window, pining for me.
I rumble a laugh at the thought and Ledger looks over at me, cocking his head. I shake my head to brush off the unasked question. I don’t know if that silly rule of his applies to situations outside of sex, but I’m not going to risk potential future nakedness by pointing out the obvious—that he can do a hell of a lot better than me.
He shifts his weight to bring himself a few inches closer to me, not touching but close enough that I can feel the warmth of him, teasingly radiating through the space between us. My gut aches with a neediness that’s becoming all too familiar when he’s around, and my already half-hard cock gives an eager throb. I swallow down the rising urge to wrap my arms around him, plaster myself against him, generally rub up against him like a cat trying to scent its favorite person. Ledger’s attention is already back on the guys, laughing at a story Stone is telling about trying to get all of his goats to stop eating their Christmas sweaters long enough to take the photo for their holiday cards. As silly as it sounds, a prickle of irritation runs through me at having to share his attention like this, at having him close but with both his hands around his pool cue instead of on me.
I grind my teeth and grumble low in my throat, feeling like a petulant child. The sound is so quiet that I doubt anyone, including Ledger, can even hear it over the music and the din of the slowly filling bar, but he shifts a little more and brushes his arm against mine. The contact soothes me instantly, easing the tightness in my chest and turning the grumble into a contented, rumbling purr instead.
He turns his attention back on me and I straighten up a little under his gaze. I’m even more pathetic than I previously thought, but goddamn do I want to earn every second of his eyes on me. He tilts his head towards the pool table.
“It’s your shot,” he reminds me.
“Oh.” I look at the table for the first time in what feels like an hour, but it’s probably more like fifteen minutes since my last turn.
They have two balls left, but all of ours are cleared. Which means all I have to do is sink the eight to win it.
“Finish this and I’ll let you drive me home,” he says, quietly enough that I doubt anyone else hears, with a suggestive edge in his voice and a promise in his smoldering smile that says loud and clear that he’s not just looking for a lift. I swallow hard and that needy ache in my belly expands. I grunt again and nod.
Heat prickles along the back of my neck as I chalk up my cue and then lean over to line up the shot. It’s not a particularly difficult one, but my hands tremble slightly. I take a steadying breath, aim, and sink it.
A grin jumps to my lips, twisting them awkwardly into a shape my face isn’t used to. Like my rusty, disused laugh, my muscles aren’t quite familiar with this particular command these days. I exhale sharply and nod with pride as I straighten myself back up.
“Whoa, no need for such an over-the-top reaction, big guy,” Stone says with a wink while Ledger full-out cheers behind me, jumping up and down and waving his arms like we just won at an Olympic level instead of a friendly forty-dollar wager in a dingy Wisconsin bar.
“I think we’ve been had.” West gives us a crooked grin that says he’s not actually mad about it.
“Tell you what, I’ll entertain the idea of a rematch sometime,” Ledger offers, then glances over at me. “If Griff is up for being my partner again, of course.”
My heart pounds and I feel like all eyes are on me, even though in reality everyone outside of our little group is too busy with their own drinks and games to take any interest. Is Ledger saying he wants to come back to Wooley’s with me? Or is he just being his usual friendly self? I could easily fall into a spiral wondering why he would want to waste a Friday or Saturday night with me grunting through basic conversation when he could be anywhere with anyone. Instead, I just nod. If he wants to come back and play another few rounds, I sure as shit won’t have anything better to do.
“You’re on,” Stone agrees, tossing his half of the losses onto the table for Ledger to eagerly snatch up.
He stuffs the winnings into his pocket and bumps his shoulder against mine.
“I’m going to let Jericho know he doesn’t need to worry about driving me home and then we can take off. Unless you wanted to hang around for another drink first?”
I shake my head. I already stuck around longer than I planned to, and I’m sure longer than the guys expected me to. Besides, there isn’t a drink in the world more interesting than finding out what exactly Ledger was promising with that dirty grin.
“No, let’s go.” I hang my cue back on the wall and roll my shoulders. “I’ll meet you out by my truck?”
It’s not that I don’t want the guys to see us leaving together, and fuck knows they’re smart enough and nosy enough to put two and two together anyway, even if they don’t see us literally walk out hand in hand, but I’d rather minimize the speculation if I can. If I don’t confirm anything now, I won’t have to make some big, awkward announcement later when it’s over.
“Cool.” Ledger ghosts his fingers over my forearm, then slips away to talk to Jericho while I put my head down and make a quiet exit.
LEDGER
“Jericho said you were going to think I was a total stalker creep for showing up at Wooley’s,” I say conversationally, the roar of the truck engine vibrating through me as we head towards home.
Griff grunts and then chuckles, the sound low and gravelly in his throat.
“Why did you?” he asks, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, his hand twitching on the gear shift like maybe he’s thinking about reaching for me.
“Hang out.” I shrug and scoot a little closer on the bench seat. It’s so much more chill than what I want to say, which is, ‘because I’m obsessed with you, you adorable doofus.’
Slow and steady, Ledgie. I may be stubborn, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn from my past mistakes. Jericho might be convinced that the flaw in my dating strategy is the guys I pick, but I think the problem is that I’ve always wanted too much too fast. I feel like I can see the bricks in the wall around Griff cracking, I just need to be patient enough to wait for them to come down instead of relying on my usual strategy of bringing in a wrecking ball. That’s only ever made guys build their walls up stronger and higher.
We pull into his driveway, and he switches the engine off but doesn’t make a move to get out right away.
“Sorry, should I have taken you right to your place?” He frowns and makes a move like he’s going to put the keys back into the ignition.
I laugh and put my hand out to stop him.
“I’m sure I can walk the twenty steps to my back door from here,” I assure him, wrapping my hand around his and slipping his keys out of his grasp. I lick my lips and meet his eyes, letting a slow, suggestive grin spread over my lips. “Eventually.”
His throat bobs with a swallow and he nods. We both climb out of his truck and I hit the fob to lock it, even though this isn’t the kind of neighborhood where leaving your car unlocked is an issue. Griff doesn’t say anything as I saunter up to the front door with his keys dangling from my index finger and unlock it like I own the place.
He flips on the light in the entryway and we both slip our shoes off.
“I didn’t do any work for you today,” he says in a quiet rumble.
“Nope, you didn’t.” I’m curious to see where he’s going with this.
“So, anything we do tonight…” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck and catches my eye, nerves and heat dancing in his gaze. “It’s just for fun.”
“Are you saying the other two times I had you naked and panting for me weren’t fun ?” I gasp with feigned offense, putting one hand over my heart.
His cheeks turn pink and his eyes widen a fraction.
“No, I didn’t mean—”
I step closer, putting both my hands on his belly and grinning.
“I’m fucking with you, big bear. I get what you mean, and yeah, no exchange here. Anything we do tonight is just for fun.” I bump my nose against his and lick my lips. We’re close enough that I can taste the sweetness of his breath on my tongue when I do it. “That cool with you?”
He makes a noise in his chest and then wraps both arms around me, his hands landing on my ass more forcefully than they have before. The other two times we’ve fooled around, I felt like it was kind of my show, like I was calling the shots and doting on my big, needy bear. I am definitely not complaining about that, but the look that flares in his eyes as his fingers dig roughly into my denim-clad ass cheeks is something very different, and I am so fucking here for it.
“Yeah,” he growls. “It’s fucking cool.” Then he slams his mouth into mine like a starving man jumping on a steak, all desperation and hunger and lust hot enough to sear through me and leave me nothing but a pile of ashes.
Okay, big bear came to play.
Griff licks his way into my mouth with another growl that vibrates against my tongue and lips. I groan into the cavern of his mouth, sliding my hands under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin, his body hair tickling my palms. He uses his grip on my ass to keep me plastered to him as we stumble through the house blindly, our tongues tangling around muffled moans, our cocks hard and aching, dragging and grinding, with our jeans frustratingly in the way of any actual relief.
“What are you into?” he asks hoarsely in between rough nips of my lips and languid drags of his tongue against mine.
“Whatever as long as it’s not too freaky-deaky.” I let out a breathless laugh that turns into a louder moan as he dips his face into the crook of my throat, his beard tickling my skin, and sucks on my pulse point. “Vers bottom, so it’s all good on my end.”
He grunts against my neck, and I gasp as the backs of my knees hit his bed and I tumble backward into the pile of fluffy blankets that smell like Griff. He doesn’t follow me down right away, instead standing at the foot of the bed, raking his eyes over me. I’m still fully dressed, my cock straining in my jeans, my t-shirt rucked up to show the flat planes of my belly, but the way he’s looking at me, you’d think I was naked. He rumbles deep in his throat again, palming his cock through his pants, his nostrils flaring like he actually is a wild beast who can smell how fucking horny I am for him.
“Well, I’d love to fuck you, but someone stole my lube.”
It takes my lust-drunk brain a few seconds to process what he’s saying. Fuck. I don’t want to look too disappointed, but my shoulders sag and my lips turn down in a frown. Would I be showing my cards too much if I offered to run home and get the lube? Would it ruin the mood? What if I just begged him to eat me out until I’m spit-slicked enough to make it work?
The edges of Griff’s lips curve up and a spark of teasing flickers in his eyes, making the corners of them crinkle with honest-to-fuck smile lines. I gasp playfully, sitting up and wrapping my fist around the front of his shirt.
“Was that baby’s first joke?” I tease, dragging him down to my level and nudging my nose against his.
“Maybe. Why, did you want me to fuck you?” His lips are still quivering with a flicker of a smile, hovering so close to mine that I can taste every exhale.
“Yes, please.”
I tug at his shirt with a smirk, and he helps me pull it over his head, tossing it aside and then crashing into me all over again. The mattress shifts under his weight as he crawls over me, and we fall into a fresh, frantic rhythm with our lips and tongues and groping hands that feels completely different from the first two times we fooled around.
Maybe my idea to trade handjobs for handiwork wasn’t quite as brilliant as I thought. Not that I think he didn’t enjoy it, but now I’m wondering if he was indulging me more than anything. Memories of the way he melted under my touch and whimpered for me surge to the forefront of my mind and derail that sliver of a doubt before it can take hold. Maybe it was just the exact excuse he needed to let someone else be sweet to him for a change, and now he’s in the mood to show me a different side of himself.
If he wants to luxuriate in letting me pet him and play with him sometimes and be the big, dominant grizzly others, I am so fucking here for that. Enthusiastically, I might add.
We shed our clothes in a flurry of wandering hands and bitten-off moans. Griff’s soft, strong body pins me to the mattress, his hot, hard, bare cock rocking against mine as our legs tangle. His cockhead drags against mine, slick with the precum drooling from his slit, and a desperate spasm runs through my shaft. He moans, pressing his face into the crook of my neck, and thrusts against me again.
“You feel so good, Ledge,” he rasps, his voice hoarse.
“I’ll feel even better when I’m stretched around that thick cock,” I purr, reaching between us to wrap my fingers loosely around both our cocks. “I’m fucking needy for you, big bear. Don’t make me beg.” I flick my tongue along the seam of his lips, and he parts them with a whine, thrusting into my teasing grasp.
“Can I lick you?”
My eyes roll back and my hole flutters and clenches, already anticipating the wet slide of his tongue.
“Oh god, please,” I pant, already scrambling to flip over and bury my face in his pillow.
With his body still pressed close, I feel the rumble of his laughter more than I hear it. He rummages for something in his bedside drawer, I’m assuming condoms and lube, and then his lips find their way to the back of my neck. The kiss is sweet and gentle, his cock nudging the curve of my ass as he takes his time tasting my skin. I sigh and relax into the unexpected role reversal.
His beard tickles my skin again as he takes his time making his way down my spine with slow kisses, kneading my ass cheeks and making rumbling, purring sounds in his throat. The way he massages my ass cheeks tugs slightly at my hole, just enough to make me squirm and swallow down impatient whimpers, my cock throbbing beneath me, spilling slicks of precum against my skin and onto his sheets.
Griff reaches my ass and nips at the upper swell of each cheek. I rock my hips and let loose an eager whine. I’m pretty sure I asked this man not to make me beg. As if he can read my mind, he chuckles and parts my ass cheeks.
“Oh fuck,” I shout, shoving my ass towards him like a bitch in heat at the first slick drag over my twitchy, aching hole. “Please, please, please,” I pant, getting my knees under me so I can rock against his tongue.
He moans, the sound vibrating through my rim as he tongues me again, eager and just as ravenous as his kiss. He laps and swirls his tongue around my hole, my cock swinging between my thighs as I bounce and thrust and grind myself against his face shamelessly gasping his name. There’s an empty ache inside me, an itch that needs to be scratched or I might go out of my fucking mind.
I twist my fingers in his sheets and cant my hips. He wriggles his tongue inside me, and I see stars.
“More,” I groan.
I can barely hear the snick of the lube bottle being opened over the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears and the harshness of our breathing, but it’s enough to make my balls tighten and send goose bumps skittering across my overheated skin.
I knew there was something I liked about Griff, and right now that something is that he doesn’t waste his time pussyfooting around with one finger. He pulls his tongue out of my hole and replaces it with two thick, slippery digits in a single thrust. I wail and clench around him, savoring the electric heat that rushes through me from the stretch, the weighty, satisfying fullness of having any part of Griff inside me.
I spread my thighs a little wider and rock myself on his fingers just like I did with his tongue. He wraps an arm around my waist to still me and my breath catches at the brush of his cock against the inside of my thigh, his cockhead nudging at my tight, full balls. He works his fingers in and out with purpose, his calloused knuckles catching on my rim, his grunting, growling sounds making my cock leak and my eyelids flutter.
Griff crooks his fingers, finding my prostate with his next thrust, and I let out another banshee cry of pleasure, my legs shooting out straight and my cock spasming with the threat of an untouched orgasm. It’s only the grip of his arm around my middle that keeps me from face-planting right into the pillow.
He lets out a pleased rumble and nuzzles the back of my neck, his hips rocking to grind his cock along the hot, sweaty inner crease of my thigh as he taps my prostate again.
“Fuck me,” I gasp, clawing at his sheets. “Fuck me, Griff. Fucking please .”
Fine, I’ll beg. For a man like Griff, I will goddamn beg .
He groans and nips at that same spot on the back of my neck, then eases his fingers out of my tender, throbbing, needy hole. I hear the tear of a condom wrapper, and the quiet sounds he makes in his chest as he puts it on and then lines himself up, one hand digging into my hip.
I crane my neck to look over my shoulder at him, needing to see the look on his face the first time he enters me more than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire damn life. The shadows play over his rugged features, his brows furrowed and his forehead wrinkled with concentration. Of course, there’s an adorable scowl marring his lips. Gah, I wish I could reach him to kiss that expression smooth.
His eyes dart to mine and linger for just a few seconds, boring into them in the dark, sharing a silent moment of glorious fucking anticipation before he rocks forward and fills me in a single thrust. I manage to keep my focus just long enough to see the twisted lines of his expression go slack, his lips falling open with an almost pained sound of pleasure and his eyes going hazy. Then, my own eyes roll back and all I can think about is the perfect fullness of his cock stretching me open, the angle he finds as he splays himself over me, his cock hammering my swollen, throbbing prostate with every thrust.
I try to brace my hands on the bed, but it doesn’t take long before my muscles are quaking too hard to hold me up and I let myself go slack, my face in his pillow, my hips held up by his punishing grip. Will I have finger shaped bruises to remember this night by tomorrow? Fuck, I hope so.
My cock slaps against my belly with every one of his thrusts, leaving streaks of precum on my skin, my balls pulling tighter and tighter as my moans become a constant stream of incomprehensible pleasure. I’m in such a daze that I can’t even get my throat to work, and drool pools on his pillow as I lose myself to the rhythm of his deep, satisfying strokes.
He keeps nuzzling and kissing the back of my neck, his skin feverishly hot against my back, the slap of the thrusts and the combined sound of our wild moans filling the bedroom. My name falls from his lips over and over like it’s the only word he can remember.
His thrusts become more frantic. Harder and deeper. My toes curl and I clench around him hard, stars dancing in my vision as my sac constricts. Griff bites down on the back of my shoulder and wraps his hand around my cock, and I’m fucking done for. I shout so loud I’m sure all the neighbors can hear, and my legs start to tremble, my cock spasming wildly in his grip and then starting to pulse, my inner muscles squeezing around him in the same dizzying rhythm as I gasp and howl with pleasure.
More saliva runs down my chin, but I can’t be bothered to wipe it away. All I can do is fuck myself on his cock, chasing every scorching wave of my orgasm. I can feel the exact moment Griff follows me over the edge, his cock jerking and throbbing inside of me, his whole body convulsing around me. He slams into me one more time and then holds me still, his cock buried deep, pulsing with his orgasm as he presses his face into the crook of my neck and fucking whimpers like the sweetest baby bear I’ve ever heard in my life.
I make soothing sounds, finding enough control of my muscles to reach back and tangle my fingers in his hair, still rocking mindlessly on his cock, eking out every last aftershock I can find until my limbs are numb and my balls are drained.
We collapse together onto his bed, his softening cock slipping out. He tugs off the condom and tosses it aside, then pulls me into his arms, making me the little spoon and wrapping himself around me while we catch our breath.
“Ledge?” he says eventually, his voice rough.
“Mm?” I brace myself for him to politely ask me to get the fuck out. It’s okay, I’m being patient. Emotional intimacy takes time.
“You said TP was contraband. How come?”
I let out a sleepy laugh and wiggle out of his tight grip so I can turn to face him. He makes a grumpy sound and clings to me a little tighter, but he settles as soon as I lay my cheek on his chest and start to stroke his belly.
“It’s illegal to rehab raccoons in Wisconsin because of rabies. I found her when she was just a newborn though. The rest of her litter didn’t make it, and her mom was nowhere to be found, so I smuggled her home and raised her from a cub. Her eyes weren’t even open yet. Cutest little thing you’ve ever seen in your life.” I smile and nuzzle his chest, petting him in slow, drowsy strokes.
He grunts and it sounds just as sleepy as I feel.
I’m sure he wants me out of here, but a few minutes to rest my eyes couldn’t hurt.