Chapter Two
Derek
Bring supplies?
How pathetic did that make me? I could’ve run to the local drugstore to buy supplies. I’d tossed out what few I had left before I’d moved up here, believing I’d never need them again. Consigned myself to celibacy because how the hell was I going to meet another gay man in a town this small? And how would the college feel if they knew I was gay?
Apparently two incredibly na?ve questions. Seemingly no one batted an eye at teachers and administrators being gay, and surprisingly, I was able to get picked up on my first foray into town.
Pretty impressive.
I paced the length of the room back and forth. About twelve feet. I wanted to go for a run to blow off some steam. I used to run around English Bay every morning before a hot shower and a coffee on my way to the office. Routine. I was a creature of routine.
And I hadn’t run in six months. Not since the day they fired me.
Stop thinking.
About that or about everything? Because if I reflected on what I’d agreed to, thinking was kind of important. I’d invited a virtual stranger to my hotel room. I didn’t do stuff like that. The guys I hooked up with? Always their place or at an anonymous hotel. I’d never brought a guy home and yes, for argument’s sake, this hotel wasn’t my home. But this room was my sanctuary until I took possession of my new house in six days.
The hot, sexy bartender was on his way over.
If he doesn’t stand you up.
I waved off that thought. Harold was obviously well known. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d jeopardize his reputation by stiffing the new guy in town. In fact, if pressed, I’d say he was the kind of guy everyone loved. The kind who took strangers under his wings and protected them. The kind of guy I could come to care for.
The polar opposite of everyone who’d fucked me in the last ten years.
And been fucked, I quickly added. I’d done some fucking in my early days. Experimentation, mostly. Wasn’t really my thing.
A quick rap on the door caught me mid-stride, and before I could react, the key card was inserted in the lock, which clicked open. Harold slipped into the room and let the door swish quietly closed behind him. He met my gaze, and his grin widened.
I’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt from my more formal khakis and button-down, but something told me that wasn’t the reason for the grin. He nodded toward my bare feet.
“Interesting choice in the middle of February.”
“The room was warm. And…”
I curled my toes. “I saw the movie Die Hard, and it’s true that if you curl your toes into the carpet that you relax. I used to do it every night when I came home from work. Nightcap and toe curling.”
Was I a tad defensive?
Harold snickered. “I just think feet are really sexy. Loved Die Hard. Best Christmas movie ever.”
A chink in my armor.
“You mind if I take my coat off?”
“Of course not. Please make yourself at home. Would you like a beer?”
He shucked off his coat and hung it over the desk chair, then advanced farther into the room. He casually dropped a strip of condoms and a small bottle of lube on the bed. “I’m not much for beer, but you feel free.”
I swallowed hard, pushing down the nerves fluttering in my stomach. “I don’t need alcohol. Just trying to be a good host.”
He stilled. “Look, Derek, we don’t have to do this. There’s no rush. You’re new in town, and likely going to be here a while. I’m never leaving and, despite what you may hear, am not a player.”
“That’s not what West implied.”
“Jesus.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “West is…he can be cocky and he can be melancholy. The one thing he is, however, is honest. Have I played around in the past? When I was younger, sure. Those days are behind me. I’m not saying I want forever with you, but I’ll take what I can get. You intrigue me. Can’t say that about most people in town these days.”
Something inside me snapped. In a good way. I covered the six-foot distance in two long strides and planted myself before him. He had a good five inches on me, but he only needed to lower his head a bit for our gazes to lock. Blazing fire lit those dark-brown irises. Oh yeah, this was going to be good.
He raised his hand tentatively to cup my cheek.
I leaned into the touch, allowing him to sweep his large thumb against my lips.
“I want to devour you.”
“I want to be devoured.”
Less talk, more action please.
“Are you saying…?”
Well, might as well be honest. “I prefer to bottom, but at this point it’s been so long, I’m willing to do just about anything.
He chortled. “It’s been a long time for me as well, and I prefer to top, so I think we’re going to be just fine.”
He leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips.
Fuck this.
I grabbed the back of his head and tugged him down to me. I nipped at his bottom lip, and when he opened, I thrust my tongue inside. I didn’t want sweet. I didn’t want gentle. I wanted life-affirming passion and downright dirty sex. All the hearts and flowers shit could come later.
And something told me there would be a later.
He grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and we broke the kiss only long enough to yank it off. He tossed it away and our mouths were already fused again when he raked his fingernails across my abs.
Fuck that felt good.
I undid his belt buckle as he toed off his shoes. We broke the kiss and our gazes locked.
“You do you, I’ll do me, and let’s meet on the bed in about twenty seconds.”
I liked his plan. I pulled my jeans and briefs off in one smooth motion and tossed them on the floor with my T-shirt. After putting the lube and condoms on the bedside table, I pulled back the covers and hopped into bed. My earlier excuse about having taken my socks off because the room was warm wasn’t accurate. I kept the heat low, and the sheets were cool, but my blood was heated. Watching Harold yank his shirt over his head, pull down his jeans and briefs, then wrench off his socks was one of the sexiest shows I’d ever seen.
Dark hair covered his chest, tapering off as it went lower. Those arms were solid, as were those muscular thighs. And his cock? A thing of beauty. Half-hard and arrowed down, I spotted impressive girth. I licked my lips.
He pressed a knee to the bed and levered himself so he could crawl up to me. He held himself steady above me until I gave him a slight nod. Reading it for the consent it was, he lowered himself so he lay on top of me. Completely covering me.
I’d never felt so protected. So cherished.
I spread my thighs to invite him closer, and when our cocks brushed, electricity shot through me. This time he nipped at my lower lip, and I opened for him, greedy and needy. His exploration of my mouth was downright carnal, and as he ground our cocks together, I grew harder. I ran my hands through his hair, finding it much softer than I would’ve imagined. Curling my fingers around his neck, I drew him even closer.
Would he devour me?
Could he devour me?
I wanted to find out.
Boldly, I trailed my fingers down his torso and drew them across his abs and down farther. When I grasped him intimately, he sucked in a breath, pulling back from our kiss. “Keep that up and it’ll be over way too soon.”
It tempted part of me to tease him, but this moment felt too precious. Too fragile. Something in him called to something in me, and bold was the only way I knew to proceed.
“I want you inside me when you come. I need to feel you.”
His eyes blazed that same fire I’d spotted earlier. He let out a shaky breath. “I usually build to this.”
Was I pushing too hard? What if I blew this before it’d even begun? I was playing by a new rule book here, and the regulations weren’t clear to me. I didn’t want him to call foul before we’d even started.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I want to be inside you. I just don’t want to go too far and have nowhere left to go.”
Pressing my groin against his, I assured him. “I have a significant repertoire. We’ll never run out of things to do.”
His grin was downright lascivious. “Okay then.”
He rolled to his side, then reached over for the lube. He handed it to me. “Show me.”
I spread my legs, then lubed up my fingers. I moved my cock and balls out of the way so my hole was on full display. This time, he licked his lips. I pressed my index finger inside, feeling both disconnected and connected. Disconnected because it’d been so fucking long, and connected because something passed between the two of us. I’d dissect it later for meaning, but for now, I added a second finger and curled them, seeking my pleasure spot.
Given I loved bottoming, I was well-acquainted with my prostate. When I hit the spongy spot, pleasure sang through my veins. My cock leaked precum on my stomach, and I was mighty pleased when Harold fumbled with the wrapper as he opened it. He rolled the condom on and it took mere moments for him to slather on the lube. “How do you want me?”
“On top.”
I didn’t always choose this position, especially if I didn’t know the guy well, but I wanted to feel his weight, needed to cede the control to him. I trusted him. God only knew why, but he engendered trust.
Might be a bartender thing.
Might be a Harold thing.
Didn’t matter. I spread my thighs for him and guided him to me.
He was on the big side, and I was on the tight side, but something about the burn brought me back to life. I remembered not only why I liked sex, but how it grounded me. Connected me. Invigorated me. As he pressed in slowly, I gazed into those beautiful eyes. His pupils were blown wide in the low light of the room. I’d only left one light on because as much as I wanted to see him, I also felt exposed in a way I hadn’t for a long time. He could see into my soul and, in that moment, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he saw.
“Fuck, you’re tight.”
He continued to push in, finally seating himself fully. “You okay, Derek?”
I squeezed him experimentally. Not only revelling in the fullness, but assuring him I was okay. I was more than okay. I was alive, he was glorious, and now I wanted to be pounded into the mattress. Being in a hotel made the whole affair both more illicit and more fun. If he rode me hard enough, would the neighbors hear?
“Please, Harold, make me feel. Take me away from this place.”
He looked momentarily uncertain, so I wrapped my legs around his hips and drew him into me as best I could. I wanted to ask for more, but this was our first time.
Hopefully there’d be a second. And a third. But I wasn’t greedy—I’d take whatever he was willing to give.
Flexing his hips, he continued to hold my gaze. Withdraw and thrust. Move back and press forward. I wanted to beg him to go faster and harder, but he needed to do this at his pace. And I was no longer the man who could make those demands. I was a desperate man, understanding the grace that brought us together on this cold winter night.
“You feel so fucking good. I want to last but…”
His words died on a hard thrust.
“Do it.”
I urged him, pleading with my eyes. “Only you can give me this.”
Truer words were never spoken. He withdrew then pushed into me so deep I knew I’d be feeling it tomorrow. Making me whole. I squeezed him, and he finally seemed to get the message. The tempo picked up, settling us into a punishing rhythm. What I’d wanted but hadn’t known how to ask for. He pounded, I received, and we made some kind of special magic. He hit my prostate unerringly over and over, and soon I was the one cresting.
“I’m going to come.”
Sweat broke across my brow, and my thighs trembled with the force of holding him close.
“Do it.”
He moved in for a brief but brutal kiss. “Jack yourself. Do whatever you need to do. Just make it quick.”
Sweat broke out across his brow as he gritted his teeth.
I needed no further urging. I took myself in hand, spread some precum along my length, and jacked myself to the punishing and unrelenting rhythm he set.
His urging and permission were all I needed. My balls drew up, and I let go.
As my cum spurted between the two of us, he thrust twice more and then he followed me over.
“Christ, yes.”
The words escaped him on a long exhalation. His head was arched back and the cords of his neck bulged. Then he looked down at me and our gazes met. The moment suspended in time. A connection I felt to the marrow of my bones. Something I never wanted to end.
He continued to prop himself up on his elbows, but clearly the effort was getting to be too much. I wound my arms around his neck and pulled him close. He collapsed onto me.
The weight was glorious. I wasn’t a small man by any extent of the imagination, but I wasn’t big like him. Yet his weight didn’t suffocate me. Far from it. His mere presence reassured me that life would move on. That I’d move on.
Might I be so lucky as to move on with him?
Too fanciful, and likely the thought was being caused by my sex-haze-induced euphoria. Yet when he swept my damp hair away from my face, I knew we had cemented a connection.