Chapter 8
Jarvis
I may be thirty-three, but my weight has meant I don't have a lot of experience with guys. And Anson Palmner is no ordinary guy. He's all man.
All man with a raised palm that he's encouraging me to use however I please. Like it wasn't already boiling hot in here. I think I'm about to pass out. This can't be real. Maybe it's a sauna-induced fever dream?
"Go on," he encourages with his voice dropping lower, his gaze falling to my chest.
I could have the world's best body, abs for days, but the way I'm half sitting, half leaning against the wall of the sauna still wouldn't be flattering. My pecs are drooping, and there's a layer of padding poking above my towel, but that isn't stopping Anson from devouring me with his eyes.
Inhaling nothing but heat through my nose, I reach out and curl my fingers around his wrist, as thick and solid as his fingers. Saying what I've imagined him doing to me is damn well near impossible, but showing him isn't that much easier, either.
I can't… I can't actually go through with it… Can I?
Should I?
Fuck it. You only live once, and apparently if you do it well enough, that's all you need.
I slowly guide his hand toward my body. He shifts in closer so he's within total body contact distance. From my face to my feet, I can make his hand touch me anywhere I want.
Something about that, about having that level of control, turns me on. My cock pokes through my towel. With the way Anson is sitting, I can't see what his dick is doing, but when I press his palm between my pecs, the low growl he emits, the way heat drenches his gaze, tells me he's into it.
Into me.
"Is this where you want me to touch you?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.
"It's one of the places." Look? I managed to form words. Yay me. Then, feeling bold, maybe even a little empowered. "One of many places."
His dark eyes soak in my sweat-drenched body. I'm wearing a towel, but I feel so exposed. He's so close. I'm almost naked. And there's a lot of me to take in.
"Where else?"
His gruff baritone makes my skin pebble. "Um, lower."
He slips his wrist free then skims his thick fingers along my shin, just above my ankle. "Here?"
I shake my head. "Too low. Higher."
He takes his time, tracing his fingers delicately around the hairs on my legs, inching up slowly toward my knee. "Here?"
"Higher."
My upper torso tightens as he smooths a path over my knee to my lower thigh, meeting the edge of the towel protecting what little modesty I have left.
I suck in a hot breath. The logical part of me knows that I should put a stop to this the next chance I get.
This is beyond unprofessional…but it's oh so deliciously wicked.
By far the hottest thing I've ever done—and I'm saying that not because I'm currently glowing with sauna sweat but because no one has ever made me feel this special.
Or sexy.
"Here?" he asks, more breath than sound.
Logic or fantasy? Logic or fantasy?
"Higher."
Sorry, logic. You're boring, bro.
"In that case…" He wiggles his sturdy index finger, indicating I'm going to have to loosen my towel.
I do so with shaky hands.
A grin opens on his face, making him at once more boyish yet completely like a man on the verge of completing a mission at the same time.
"Thank you," he murmurs as he gently opens the towel, letting it fall off my legs. My cock springs free, slapping against my belly.
He eyes it hungrily. "That my final destination?"
I lean forward, unbothered by belly folds, and rake my hand through his long hair. "One of two final destinations."
Surprise flashes in his eyes, and I have a mini freak-out that I've gone too far. Until I hear a low rumble from deep in his chest, followed by warm fingers curling around my length and his other hand sliding down the underside of my thigh.
"Smooth move, Palmer," I quip.
A low, husky chuckle tumbles out of him. "You're not the only one who's been wanting my hands on your body."
I almost choke on his admission, my eyes dampening. I quickly blink the emotions away. Time for processing: later. Time for getting some: right fucking now.
With how I'm sitting, there's no way Anson can reach destination number two, so I shuffle down the bench so I'm lying flatter and fold my legs, hiking my knees up, creating the space needed.
He doesn't miss a beat, sliding his palm away from me momentarily, bringing it to his mouth and sucking on his middle finger, which is a mental image I file away forever, before bringing his slicked finger to my hole.
"You all good?" he checks.
I always thought someone being tongue tied was a figure of speech. Turns out, that's exactly how my tongue feels right now. I nod, then I nod a few more times, trying to add invisible exclamation points to a word I'm incapable of uttering but desperate to convey.
Another grin lands on his lips, and with one hand still clamped around my dick, he ever so gently enters me with his thick finger.
I feel like I'm about to pass out for a completely non-sauna heat reason now. Unbridled pleasure shoots through my body, my hole opening up willingly as Anson establishes a rhythm, stroking me while carefully sliding deeper and deeper until his finger is in as far as it can go.
I throw my head back. "Sooo gooood."
He releases a satisfied grunt, increasing the speed of his strokes as his finger does a 360, exploring my inner walls. I still can't believe this is happening. I don't know if this is Anson's first time with another guy, but his fingers are definitely living up to the hype I'd created in my mind.
And then some.
"Getting close," I rasp.
"Good. I want to see you lose control."
His words hit just as he reaches my prostate, and holy fucking shit. I arch my back, my thighs start shaking, and my cock explodes, unleashing a stream of cum into the air like a fire hydrant that's been hit by a car and knocked open.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I pant as the dizzying rush begins to fade. Okay, now I'm lightheaded for real, for real.
Anson slips his finger out of me in one graceful motion before shuffling up beside me and cradling my face in his strong hands, his thumb delicately brushing my cheek. "That was amazing. You alright?"
"Might need some water," I gulp.
"Of course."
Holding my hand, he helps me climb down and opens the sauna door for me. Outside, he rushes to fetch water and grabs a standing fan with a mist attachment that he turns on and aims at me while I drop down onto a lounger and rehydrate.
His eyes burn with concern as he approaches me. "Better now?"
I realize what we did was wrong, that there's potentially going to be a lot of fallout from it. But that's my brain talking. My heart feels fine with what we did. My body is high-fiving like it's nobody's business.
"Yeah." I nod, smiling up at him. "Better."