Chapter Twelve #3
“You went, obviously,” Wyatt said.
“Obviously,” Ryan teased. “How else was I supposed to get my mouth on his cock?”
“I can’t think of any other way.” And somehow, Wyatt was smiling again, and the world didn’t feel quite so weird anymore.
“Right, it was brilliant. So we ended up in my house.”
“Wait,” Wyatt interrupted. “I thought you were waxing his car?”
“We were, I had to invite him for a soda. I didn’t want him to get heatstroke, right?”
“You’re such a good Samaritan,” Wyatt said sarcastically. “Was the blowjob to make sure his pipes didn’t get clogged?”
“Actually,” Ryan said thoughtfully, “we were in the kitchen, and suddenly he dropped his jeans. Said that he knew I’d been waiting for it.”
“You had,” Wyatt pointed out. “You said you’d been flirting with him for years.”
“It was everything I’d been fantasizing about, but then Flor walked in, and yeah . . . not the ending I’d anticipated. She dragged him out by his ear, and he moved six months later.”
Wyatt chuckled. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for him or for you in this story?”
“Him, obviously. You know how good my blowjobs are and his got interrupted mid-suck.”
Wyatt snorted his beer as he laughed helplessly. “Just don’t tell my nana that story.”
Ryan’s expression was angelic as he said, “Oh, I’ve got lots of others.” He turned, so he was straddling the bench, and put his hands on Wyatt’s shoulder. “Do we have to let your brother feed us?”
“Did you telling me about giving the hot guy next door head then being caught by Flor turn you on?”
Ryan shrugged, eyes so bright, the curve of his lip giving away that he was trying hard not to grin.
“Maybe? No shame.” His hands slid down Wyatt’s chest, and found their target—the waist of Wyatt’s jeans, tucking his fingers under, and tugging him closer.
“Let’s go,” he murmured. “We can always order room service later. I’ve got a pressing . . . issue that we need to discuss.”
Wyatt leaned in, his lips almost brushing Ryan’s. His eyes had darkened so much it was tough to see the pupils in the dim room. “Is there a fire?”
Ryan lost the fight, and grinned wide, lighting up like a neon sign.
“In my pants? Yes. Absolutely.” Wyatt felt his heart thump arrhythmically in his chest, and wondered if this was what really falling for someone felt like.
Uneven and uncertain and all-consuming. He didn’t know what he’d been doing before meeting Ryan.
Maybe just marking time until this moment?
This moment right here, right now, his brain and his heart and his dick screamed at him, and it was the easiest decision in the world to grin right back and say, as serious as he could, “That sounds serious, we should go take care of that situation.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever driven faster,” Ryan said, sounding breathless and approving as Wyatt pushed him back up against the door.
“Like that, huh?” Wyatt asked, nudging his neck to the side so he could kiss his way down to it, and then back up to the sensitive spot on his ear.
He’d been spending the last week cataloging every especially sensitive spot on Ryan’s body and felt he had a bit more to explore tonight.
“You driving fast or you exploiting my ears?” Ryan teased.
“Yes,” Wyatt said.
“Watching you drive fast was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen,” Ryan confessed, and the truth in his tone made Wyatt’s traitorous heart beat even faster. Did Ryan know statements like that affected him? Did he care? Was that why he made them?
The questions distracted Wyatt for a split second, and that was all it took for his back to be the one flat against the door.
“This is much, much better. More my style,” Ryan purred as he lifted Wyatt’s t-shirt off and slid a hand down the center of his chest, pausing right over the button of his jeans. “I love it when you’re at my mercy.”
“Am I?” Wyatt questioned. “Or are you at mine?”
Ryan’s fingers hesitated on the button he was working open, and he glanced up from his crouched position. “Because I want this so badly?” He ghosted his palm against Wyatt’s erection and he hissed through his teeth at the sudden pleasure.
“Yeah, I want it too,” Wyatt admitted. “Did you think I didn’t?”
“Doing this to you,” Ryan said, his voice low and gravelly, as he popped the button and pulled Wyatt’s jeans and boxer briefs down, “reminds me of the night we met.”
For Wyatt, it was a reminder that he’d been falling from the first time he’d glanced up from the bar and seen Ryan across the dance floor, in the VIP section.
Roped off. Exclusive. Unobtainable. Until suddenly, they were on Wyatt’s bike, flying across the Hollywood Hills and none of those things were true.
“Doing this to you,” Ryan continued, tongue slicking across Wyatt’s abs between hissed words, “reminds me that I wanted to the first second I ever saw you.”
It was the echo of Wyatt’s thoughts, and that was too much.
Wyatt’s fists flexed against the wood of the door, and he wanted to drag Ryan up by his hair, and crush his mouth to his.
Tell him everything he felt, that it was so much more than sexual desire.
That it had always been more than just a hookup.
That he’d been a fucking light in the midst of the darkness that Wyatt had been trudging through for too damn long.
But that was edging far too close to the other feelings spilling over and they weren’t really together. Not the way Wyatt was desperate for them to be.
Ryan’s tongue teased against the head of his leaking cock, and Wyatt pushed away everything else but the way it felt. Hot and silky, wrapping around him as perfect as it had the very first time they’d done this. When Wyatt hadn’t realized that it could feel like this.
“God damnit,” he gritted out as Ryan sucked him down. “You’re too god damn good.”
Ryan’s glance up was half-angelic, half-devilish tease. Wyatt loved it all; the way he loved all of him.
“You want it like this?” Ryan asked, cock slipping out of his mouth, his lips red and swollen and perfect.
Wyatt was undone and could only nod, watching as Ryan began to expertly work him over, everything blending together in a red-hot wave of bliss, so much more intense than it had ever been before.
When he finally let go, shooting down Ryan’s throat, they both hesitated for a long moment after, and Wyatt could hear himself panting in the quiet of the room.
Or maybe that was Ryan.
“Give me a sec,” Wyatt said, every nerve ending feeling raw and over-exposed.
“You can fuck me later,” Ryan said, and he sounded equally breathless, even though Wyatt knew he hadn’t lasted long enough for Ryan to have made a real effort.
Wyatt slid down the door, and landed in an awkward heap next to Ryan. “Whatever you want,” he said, and knew it was true no matter how you sliced it. Whatever Ryan wanted; that was what Wyatt was going to do.
It probably had something to do with falling in love with him.