Chapter 21
Milo
I was deep in a video edit when the door to the barndominium banged open with enough force to rattle the windows. Xavier stood in the doorway, backlit by the afternoon sun, his keys clutched in one white-knuckled fist, his chest rising and falling like he’d sprinted the whole way from town.
Therapy must have been intense. This was his second session, though from what I gathered, the first was mostly paperwork.
“How’d it go?” I asked, pausing the video playback.
He didn’t answer. Just paced the room, keys jangling with each jerky movement. His boots struck the concrete floor in an irregular rhythm that spoke of pent-up energy.
“X?” I set the tablet on the coffee table, concern replacing curiosity. “You okay?”
“It was fine. Still getting to know the therapist, but she said I should practice sharing my feelings honestly with the people I love.” The words came out in a rush, and Xavier paced, not looking at me.
My heart kicked up at the word “love,” but I kept my voice steady. “That’s good advice.”
He stopped pacing, turned to face me, his jaw tight with tension.
“Okay. Well, I fucking love it when you fuck me.” The confession burst out of him like he’d been holding it in the whole drive home.
“I don’t care if it makes me bi or what, but I like having you inside me, Milo.
I like it when you take control and make me—” He broke off, his face flushing.
My head snapped up, heat shooting through me. I stood and crossed the space to him.
“Is that really what the therapist meant?” I asked, backing him toward the wall. “Did they say to come home and tell me you love getting fucked?”
Xavier’s back hit the wall, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I don’t know. But it’s honest.”
“You want me to fuck you?” I asked, my voice dropping lower, rougher. I pressed closer, not quite touching but close enough that he could feel my body heat. “Right now?”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “Yeah. But I want to try other stuff too. Want to—fuck, I don’t know how to say it.”
“Show me.” I reached up, gently extracting the keys from his death grip and tossing them onto the workbench. “Show me what you want.”
But instead of showing me, he just stood there, trembling slightly, like he’d used up all his courage on the confession. So I made the decision for him, my hands finding his shoulders, pushing down with gentle insistence.
“Kneel,” I said, and watched his eyes go dark with desire.
He sank to his knees on the concrete floor, hands hovering uncertainly at his sides. The trust implicit in his position made my chest tight.
“Are you all healed?” he asked. “Your shoulder?”
“My shoulder is good enough for this. I want to show you a new way to take my cock,” I said, my fingers threading through his hair. “You good with that?”
“Yeah.” His voice was rough, breathless. “Show me.”
I unbuckled my belt, unhurried despite the urgency thrumming through my veins. I wanted to savor this—Xavier’s upturned face, his parted lips, the way his hands trembled as he reached for me.
He freed my cock, eager but vulnerable.
“Take your time,” I murmured, guiding him. His breath was hot on me, then his mouth—cautious at first, then bolder. The sensation hit hard, my fingers tightening in his hair.
“Fuck, X,” I breathed. “That’s good, take more.”
He did, inch by inch, his hands gripping my thighs. I could see the bulge in his jeans. He was getting off on this—on pleasing me, on submitting.
“Look at you,” I said, my voice rough with desire. “Taking my cock so well. You like this, don’t you? Like being on your knees for me.”
He made an affirmative sound around my cock, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that stole my breath. I could see it there—not just desire, but something deeper. Trust. Affection. Maybe even love, though neither of us had said it out loud yet.
I pulled out of his mouth, my cock leaving his lips with a wet sound that echoed in the open space. “Up,” I commanded, and he scrambled to his feet.
I kissed him, my hands rough on his body as we stumbled toward the worn couch, pulling the rest of our clothes off.
I wanted to collapse onto the couch and fuck him, but he made me go gentle on my shoulder.
“I want to try something,” I said against his lips. “Something new. You trust me?”
“Always.” No hesitation. Just absolute certainty.
I maneuvered us so I was on my back on the couch, head toward one end, and he was above me, facing the opposite direction, knees on either side of my head.
“Oh fuck,” Xavier breathed, understanding dawning. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I lowered my hips, bringing my cock back to his mouth while I bent forward to take his length between my lips.
The first taste of him made me groan—salt and musk, Xavier’s unique flavor, something I wanted to memorize, to taste forever. Because I was in love with him. Why couldn’t I just say that to him?Instead, I sucked harder.
I took him deep, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of my throat, and he moaned around my own length, the vibration sending sparks up my spine. We found a rhythm together, moving in sync, our bodies learning this new language of pleasure.
My hand found his ass, fingers tracing the cleft before pressing against his entrance. I pushed one finger inside easily, finding his prostate, pinning him between my hand and mouth, so that everywhere he moved, he found pleasure.
Xavier’s whole body jerked, a muffled cry vibrating around my cock as I stroked that sweet spot inside him. His hips bucked up, driving his cock deeper into my throat, and I took it, swallowing around him, giving him everything.
The barndominium filled with the wet sounds of our mouths, the rhythmic slap of skin, our mingled groans of pleasure. My cock was so hard it hurt, Xavier’s throat working around me with increasing confidence. And his cock—fuck, I could feel him getting close, his balls tightening, his body tensing.
The sound of a car door closing outside made us both freeze. Then footsteps on the gravel. Keys jingling. The distinctive click of June’s sensible flats on the wooden porch steps.
Before I could decide what to do, the door swung open and June stepped inside, briefcase in one hand, a paper bag that smelled like Thai food in the other. She wore her work clothes—a Heleonix polo tucked into khakis, her hair twisted up with that pencil she always forgot about.
She’d texted yesterday, making plans to bring lunch on her way back from a meeting in Denver, but I’d forgotten about it.
From where I was lying, I could see her, stopped in the doorway as she took in the scene.
Xavier and me, naked on the couch, still flushed and breathing hard, our cocks inches from each other’s lips.
“Hey, Junie,” I said. “Just getting each other off.”
For one suspended moment, nobody moved. I watched June’s face, trying to read her reaction, fear coiling in my gut.
Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face—not forced or polite, but genuine and warm and touched with heat.
“Don’t stop on my account,” she said, setting down the food bag with careful precision. She perched on the arm of the couch, close enough to touch, her eyes roaming over our naked bodies with obvious appreciation. “You both look incredible like this.”
“I just brought lunch as promised. But this—” her gaze swept over us again, lingering on our half-hard cocks, “—this is much better than Thai food.”
Xavier let out a surprised bark of laughter, and I felt my own lips curve into a grin. Only June could make catching us sucking each other off sound like a nice lunch break.
“You want to watch?” Xavier asked.
“Yes,” June said simply. “Very much.”
I didn’t need more permission than that. I returned my attention to Xavier’s cock, taking him deep again as my finger pressed inside him, finding that spot that made him lose control. His moan vibrated around my own length, and I felt his thighs trembling on either side of my head.
I added a second finger, stretching him while my mouth worked his shaft with renewed purpose. His taste flooded my senses—salt and musk and something uniquely him that I was already addicted to. The wet sounds of us sucking each other filled the space, obscene and beautiful.
Xavier’s hips started moving in shallow thrusts, fucking my mouth while I fingered him deeper, faster.
His cock was iron-hard on my tongue, leaking steadily now, and I knew he was close.
I crooked my fingers just right, stroking his prostate with each thrust, and felt his whole body go rigid above me
I sucked harder, my fingers relentless on that sweet spot inside him, and Xavier came with a choked cry.
His cock pulsed on my tongue, flooding my mouth with his release, and I swallowed it down, drinking him in, savoring the taste of his surrender as he sucked desperately on me.
The intimacy of it—of taking him inside me this way—sent me spiraling over the edge.
My own orgasm hit like a freight train, pleasure tearing through me as I came down Xavier’s throat. He took it all, swallowing convulsively, his throat working around my sensitive cock until I was shaking with overstimulation.
We stayed locked together, trembling in the aftermath, until he remembered my injury, and rolled off me, breathless and dazed. June’s soft, needy sound drew my gaze—she was flushed, watching us hungrily, hand buried between her thighs.
“June,” I said, sitting up. Xavier moved, joining me. We flanked her, and I leaned in, kissing her. She moaned, arching up into me, and I wondered if she tasted Xavier on my tongue.
When I pulled back, her eyes were glazed, her breathing ragged. I turned her face toward Xavier, offering her mouth to him like a gift. “Kiss her,” I said, my voice rough. “Let her taste what you taste like after sucking me to orgasm.”
Xavier didn’t hesitate. He captured her lips with a desperation that made my chest ache, one hand tangling in her hair while the other braced against the couch arm behind her. June whimpered into his mouth, her body arching toward him.
My hands moved to her waist, finding the button of her khakis and working it open.
She lifted her hips without breaking the kiss, helping me slide the pants down her legs along with her sensible cotton panties.
Her thighs were slick with arousal, her pussy glistening in the afternoon light streaming through the windows.
I slipped my hand between June’s thighs, my fingers finding her clit and circling it until she squirmed and whimpered. She broke the kiss with a gasp, her head falling back as pleasure washed over her face.
“We’ve got you,” I murmured against her neck, my free hand working to unbutton her polo. “We’re going to make you feel so good, baby.”
Xavier helped me strip away her shirt and bra, his mouth immediately finding her breast, sucking her nipple between his lips. June’s hands flew to his hair, holding him there as I worked her clit faster, feeling her body tensing beneath our combined attention.
“Please,” she gasped, her hips rocking against my hand. “I need—I need—”
“We know what you need,” Xavier said, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. He dropped to his knees in front of the couch, his hands gripping her thighs and spreading them wider.
I kept my fingers on her clit as Xavier’s mouth found her pussy, his tongue sliding through her folds with obvious enthusiasm. June cried out, her body jerking at the dual stimulation, and I felt her getting closer with each passing second.
“That’s it,” I encouraged, my lips against her ear. “Let go, June. Come for us. Show us how good we make you feel.”
She came with a broken cry, her hands clutching at both of us, her thighs trembling on either side of Xavier’s head. We worked her through it, prolonging her pleasure until she was pushing weakly at our hands, oversensitive and gasping.
“Fuck,” she groaned. “What inspired that?”“Therapy,” Xavier said, grinning.
“Turns out I’m fixed.”June snorted. “Yeah, right.” “Okay, not fixed. She wants me to come at least once a week. But she does have some pretty good ideas.” I laughed.
“I really don’t think that’s what she meant by that idea. ”