Chapter 2
chapter two
The apartments were a lot nicer than I was expecting. I thought I knew what they looked like, but I’d been thinking of the ones about a block away, which weren’t bad-looking, but they weren’t this nice, either.
I walked into the building, glancing around at the small, welcoming lobby.
There were elevators on either side and a receptionist at the front.
I took the elevator, pressing the button for floor six.
Compared to the usual New York special apartments I was used to seeing, the elevator alone was like a mansion.
Callum told me he used to live in a shitty, run-down place downtown. I’d done the same when I first moved here—so talk about a culture shock.
I checked each door as I walked, keeping an eye out for apartment twelve. It was the next-to-last one on the right, the door closed and simply waiting. Waiting for me, with Forrest behind it. I almost chickened out for a second, letting my mind spiral about what I was about to do.
I never slept with the same person twice.
Not because of some grand idea that emotions would get involved if I did, or because I was crass enough to not care.
The idea of giving up control was already difficult to stomach.
Facing the person I gave it to more than once?
Yeah, that was torture on a whole different level.
My partners saw a part of me I didn’t even like admitting to myself. Why would I face it head-on?
After hyping myself up a bit more, I finally reached for the doorbell and pushed it.
I could hear it ding from beyond the door, alerting my arrival.
I was nervous. I was always nervous at the idea of doing this type of thing.
No matter how many times I did it—and I’d done it plenty—I still got anxious.
The door slowly opened, Forrest standing on the other side with a smile.
I returned it, trying to seem far more confident than I really was.
He wouldn’t be able to notice, right? He’d taken his coat off, revealing a simple black tank top.
He’d definitely been hiding something beneath it.
Forrest was fucking ripped. And he had a shit ton of tattoos.
Black ink swirled up his arms, curling around his biceps and across his collarbones.
They didn’t even stop there. I could see part of the designs that led down his chest, leaving my imagination to run wild.
He stepped to the side, letting me in and closing the door behind me. I got to take one glance around the entryway before my back was against the wall. I gasped as Forrest closed me in, holding my hands above my head, one of his legs coming between mine as he looked down at me.
The way he whispered made butterflies start fluttering in my stomach. He was so close, I could almost taste him. I wanted to taste him. I wanted him closer, if that was even possible. “You want it rough, don’t you, Jack?”
I bit my bottom lip, staring up at him as a blush started to drift up my neck. His hair had fallen forward a bit, the wavy strands damn near touching my skin. “Yes,” I breathed.
His hand cradled the back of my neck right before reaching up and grabbing my hair, pulling it tight enough to sting. “Like this?”
My eyes fluttered closed. “Yes. More. More of that.”
“Oh, don’t worry, baby. There’ll be plenty of it.”
There was barely a second in between before he was kissing me. Hard. No teeth, but hints of tongue and all lips and groans and moans, and I couldn’t help but slowly grind against his leg. I needed it—whatever he wanted to give me, I needed.
Craved it.
Was desperate for it.
He pulled away just long enough to start guiding me down the hallway. I wasn’t even sure where we were going, letting him kiss me in bursts as I followed him. I let him take me. I let him control our path and our pace. I let him do everything I usually wouldn’t even dream of.
We crossed the threshold into what I assumed was his bedroom. It could’ve been a random guest room for all I knew, but I wouldn’t know. I hadn’t even had time to look around. I just knew I was being pushed onto my back on a mattress, and I was reaching up for him, begging him silently to follow me.
I scrambled back, leaning up on my elbows as I watched him shed his tank top. I was right. Forrest was not only absolutely covered in tattoos, but he also definitely had more piercings.
Each nipple had a silver barbell in it. My mouth watered at the idea of licking them and feeling the metal against my tongue.
He smirked at me, slowly climbing onto the bed. “Shirt off, Jack. It’s only fair.”
I spread my legs, letting him kneel between them. Looking up, I raised my arms above my head as I lay back. “Take it off if you want it off, Forrest. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”
“If I take it off, I’m ripping it off. Is that something you want?”
The idea alone sent a shiver running up my spine. I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted him to do it. Take me. Do whatever selfish thing he wanted to do, as long as he was touching me. “Do it.”
He placed his hands on my hips, raising them up and under my shirt. His skin felt fucking electric on mine. His palms were so fucking warm, and his fingers were soft. So gentle for someone promising to wreck me. “It’ll be my pleasure. Hope you don’t like this shirt.”
It wouldn’t have mattered if I did.
Forrest pulled my shirt back down from where it’d ridden up, flattening it.
I’d decided to wear a button-up to work today, and I was very fucking glad I had.
He gripped the middle, pulling it apart hard and fast. Two buttons flew off, which obviously wasn’t enough.
He kept going, kept pulling until either the buttons had ripped off or they’d undone themselves.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
I could hardly hear him with how insanely hot that’d been. I couldn’t focus. Not when he was running his hands back up my body, mapping every part of me. Not when his voice had gone as raspy and full of lust as it had. “Touch me, Forrest.” Was I begging? It sounded like it. Felt like it.
“I’ll get to that. Be patient.” He winked at me before leaning down and pressing his lips against my neck.
They were only kisses at first. Small, delicate pecks before he parted his lips and started to nip and rake his teeth along my skin. I tilted my head, giving him every part of me I could. I gave him control. I gave it to him, not even flinching when he started to suck. Was he… marking me?
Holy fucking shit, that was hotter than it should’ve been.
He trailed down to my collarbones, then kissed further down my chest. I was a panting mess, grinding my hips up against nothing, but doing it anyway.
He stopped right below my sternum, flicking his gaze up at me.
I watched as he smiled, just before sticking his tongue out, tasting my skin once more.
Right there, in the center of his tongue, was another silver barbell. He slid down, the tip of his tongue leaving a trail of spit above the waistband of my jeans.
He went for them, unbuttoning and unzipping them quickly, but not quick enough. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin mesmerized me, each one more prominent than the last. How often did this guy work out?
I hissed through my teeth, moaning and letting my head fall back as he took my cock in his hand.
My pants were somewhere on the floor, and I couldn’t even remember if his floor was carpet or hardwood.
I hadn’t even had a moment to think, too caught up with Forrest’s sinful talent of making me forget.
He stroked me slowly, using his other hand to reach into his front pocket. The sound of the lube bottle’s cap opening had me biting my lip, anxiously waiting as he poured some onto my hole.
I shifted a little to make it easier for both of us. One of his lubed fingers circled my hole while he stroked me with his other one, the lube making it a much nicer glide. “Forrest, please.” Was I fucking whimpering? Oh, God. “I need it. Need you.”
“I know. I’ve got you, trust me.”
The first breach of his finger had me clutching the sheets on either side of me, immediately wanting to beg for more.
More. More. The burn was what I loved—it was what I craved the most about mindless, emotionless sex like this.
The stretching sensation was indescribable.
It was perfect. It was everything I’d needed and more.
With the second finger, I was pulsing around him. Even my body was desperate for him, begging him in the only way it knew how. I needed him, and I needed him now. I needed the burn. I needed him to take complete control of my body and turn me into a fucking puddle of sex.
I reached down, barely brushing my fingertips against the hand that held my cock. “In me. Now. Please.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re ready?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“You haven’t even seen me yet, baby. What if I’m fucking massive?”
“Even better,” I moaned. “I want it.”
He slowly pulled his fingers out of me, shuffling back until he was standing.
He was putting on a show, grabbing a condom from his other pocket and laying it on the mattress before slowly unbuttoning his pants.
My eyes were glued to his hands, watching the tendons flex and ripple as he pulled his pants and underwear down at the same time.
Jesus fucking Christ, he was going to be the death of me. He was clean-shaven, no hair in sight. He was big. He was long. And on the underside of his shaft were two silver barbells pierced straight through.
Yeah, I was a glutton for punishment.
He held himself in his hand, jerking slowly. “Still think you’re ready?”
“If you don’t get a condom on and put that thing in me right fucking now, I swear to God. I will walk out unfucked, Forrest.”
“Can’t have that, can we?” He gripped my hips and flipped me over onto my front.
I let out an oomf, liking it far more than I would’ve admitted, and rolled my shoulders back as he started to peel the rest of my shirt off.