Chapter Twenty #3
Turning back, I found his eyes open and watching me. His gaze traveled slowly over my body, lingering for more than a moment on my erect cock. He smiled. “You’re beautiful! I mean, I knew you were, but being able to see you confirms it.”
I wanted to return the compliment. But it was still too soon.
He wouldn’t believe it. Not yet. He couldn’t see past the scars, so he was struggling to wrap his head around anyone else being able to do it.
Besides, I’d just gotten him good and relaxed, there was no way I had any intention of ruining that.
Instead, I flicked the condom onto his chest. It landed dead center.
“I’ve done my bit. Now, it’s your turn.” Tugging at his arm, I rolled him over on top of me, our chests fitting together perfectly, the cold foil of the condom wedging itself between us.
He lay still for a moment with his lips mere inches away and a thoughtful expression on his face. “It really doesn’t bother you, does it?”
I pulled back to view his face more clearly, not sure what he was asking. “What doesn’t?”
“The scarring? What I look like now?”
I felt like there should have been a drum roll or fireworks, or something equally dramatic to herald such a momentous breakthrough. “Halle-bloody-lujah! He finally gets it.”
He grinned, an unabashed, genuine expression of joy filtering through.
“I just can’t believe I’d be that lucky to meet someone like you and it not be a deal-breaker.
I thought…” He hesitated. “Well, I thought…maybe you refusing to talk to me was more about that than discovering I’d been keeping things from you. You know, like an excuse.”
I aligned our hips more carefully, our erections rubbing together. With all the talking going on, I didn’t want him to forget exactly where we’d been heading. “It wasn’t.”
He sighed, a long drawn-out sigh. “I wish we’d met before.”
I thought about his words for a moment, imagining what that might have been like. “I don’t. I bet you had men throwing themselves at you. I probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere near you. I bet you wouldn’t have even noticed me.”
He dipped his head, dropping a brief kiss on my lips. “Oh, I would have—trust me.” He frowned. “Although, I was hardly ever around. I was posted overseas a lot. We’d have hardly seen each other. Just a week here or there.”
“We’re probably better sticking with the here and now then, rather than thinking about an alternative that wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
He nodded before pulling back and staring. I shifted slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “What?”
He smiled; that crooked smile which had hooked me from the very beginning. “What do you want?” His hips shifted slightly to illustrate the fact that he wasn’t talking about life in general.
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Are you joking? You know exactly what I like. You spent hours tormenting me in here. You know my body better than I know it myself. I didn’t…” I paused, unsure whether to confess what was on the tip of my tongue.
He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t what?”
“I didn’t keep coming back for the money. I want you to know that. I need you to know that. I may have used the money as an excuse, but it wasn’t about that. Ask Georgia. She saw through me straight away.”
He smiled. “I’m glad. By the way, tormenting! Are you sure that’s the right word?”
Frustrated, I ran out of patience. “Are we talking here? Or doing something else?” I pulled his head down, locking our lips together in a deep kiss.
I was relieved when he went with it. I was even more relieved when that led to two lube-coated fingers teasing my hole until I was relaxed enough for him to be able to slide them deep inside.
I squirmed as he felt around, a smug smile of satisfaction crossing his face when he found my prostate in record time.
With the knowledge of who it was, everything felt better, more intense.
Tempting as it was to close my eyes and just feel, I kept them open.
I wanted to soak up all the visual stimulus I’d been denied previously: the way he made a tiny little frown of concentration as his fingers worked me expertly; the way those impressive muscles flexed with every movement; the way every now and again he paused like he was so aroused by my reactions that he needed to get himself back under control.
It wasn’t enough though solely to look, my hands constantly roamed, caressing, stroking, and generally making up for lost time.
I whimpered when the fingers were withdrawn.
Justin sat back, a look of satisfaction on his handsome face.
It was hard to believe it was the same man as the one I’d seen when I’d first switched the light on.
I reached up, sliding my hand along his huge biceps.
“Stop gloating and fuck me. You already knew that I’m putty in your hands. ”
Condom wrapper already open in his hand, Justin’s gaze slid over my flushed and sweaty, naked body.
“I’ve never seen it before though, only felt it.
It’s different.” He carefully rolled the condom over his erection before coming down on top of me.
My thighs slid open, neatly bracketing him between them and bringing his cock to where it needed to be.
“We’ve never done it like this.” He elaborated at my slight look of confusion.
“This position I mean. I always had to be careful to make sure there was no skin-to-skin contact. Or else, you know, you would have been able to feel that something wasn’t quite right. ”
I rolled my eyes, rubbing my inner thigh slowly against the scarred skin on his back.
“Feels rough. That’s it. Now for the love of God, please stop talking.
It’s like all those words you never bothered to say before, that I so desperately wanted to hear, you’re saying now.
Just to drive me insane.” He leaned over me, his lips against my neck, his cock nudging at my hole.
He swallowed my gasp with a kiss as he finally pushed inside.
His tongue mimicking what his lower body was already doing.
I held on for dear life as the thrusts became quicker and deeper.
Foreplay had been stretched out over such a long period of time that I knew I wouldn’t last long.
I wanted to savor it though. It felt special; the first time we’d come together with no barriers between us: no darkness; no false names; no lies; no money changing hands. Just two men who wanted each other.
I squeezed my hand between our bodies, wrapping my hand around my cock.
It only took a few strokes. I buried my face in his neck as I came, my cries muffled against his skin.
Justin must have been struggling to hold back, his orgasm following mine within the space of a few seconds.
We lay entwined, our sweaty skin stuck together and neither of us seeming to care while our breathing returned to something approaching normal.
Justin was the first to move, taking a few moments to deal with the condom before reaching down to retrieve the duvet from the floor and pulled it across both of us. He lay back on the pillow, head turned toward me. “Is that a yes?”
I mirrored his position while desperately trying to work out or recall what the question had been. Finally, I had to concede defeat. “I don’t follow.”
Justin shuffled closer, his head coming to rest on the same pillow as mine, and his hand finding mine under the covers.
“I asked if you could possibly consider giving us another chance. You didn’t really answer.
Just took all your clothes off. Then insisted I do the same.
I mean, I’m pretty happy if that’s going to be your go-to question evasion technique.
And I think it was a yes. I’m pretty sure it was a yes. But, I’d like to hear it.”
I squeezed his hand. “If you can forgive me for being such an idiot and being so selfish that I only thought about myself, then yes, it’s a yes.” I guessed the time was about as right as it was ever going to get. “And…I love you too.”
His slow smile of happiness was all I needed. However, it quickly dimmed to a look of consternation. “Are you going to still do it?”
“Do what?”
He swallowed. “Escort?”
I sat up. “Oh!”
He followed, his body turned toward mine. “I mean, it’s probably not fair of me to ask. It’s not like I expect you to say no. I’ll find it difficult, but—” He stopped. I had a feeling he’d caught himself in a lie.
I intervened before he could dig himself a deeper hole. “Which escorting are you talking about? The type where I go on dates. Or the type where I, well, you know?”
He grimaced. “The sex type. And I know that makes me a hypocrite. You don’t need to tell me that. I—”
I silenced him by leaning forward and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “I already told you. I haven’t done that since you. I only did it a few times. And nobody more than once. I’m not proud of it. I—”
He shushed me, lying back down and pulling my head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t care about the past. I only care about the future. I just needed to know.”
I relaxed, closing my eyes and trusting in his words. “I’ll probably still need to go on dates though.”
He stiffened. “Need! Why?”
“I have to pay the bills. You know, rent, utilities, phone bills. They don’t pay for themselves.”
He didn’t respond for so long I thought he’d gone to sleep. When he did there was a strange note of caution present in his voice. “You could always move in here.”
For a moment, the thought filled me with a strange optimism.
Then reality set in. I lifted my head, looking him in the eye.
“You’re asking me for the wrong reason. I can’t move in here because you don’t want me to go on paid dates with other men.
We only got to about the fourth or fifth date.
It’s too soon.” I laid my finger on his lips when he looked like he was about to argue.
“I’m not saying no. I’m saying not now. And not for that reason. Ask me again in a few months.”
He nodded. “You’re right.”
I laid my head back on his chest, smiling when I realized it was the scarred side and he had absolutely no issue with it.