Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Luka
I crawl through the treehouse doorway and find it’s got a few cushions and an old blue rug down over the wooden floor. It creaks a little under my weight, but it seems solid enough.
“When was the last time you were up here?” I ask as his head pops up in the doorway.
“A couple of weeks ago, Benji threw a party and put all this in here. Not that any of his friends wanted to climb into our treehouse. The back yard looked amazing with the string lights crisscrossing from the trees across the whole thing, though.”
“And you’re sure it’s safe?”
“Yep, solid as a rock.”
“That’s what he said,” I chuckle, and he glances down at his bulge.
“The rock is all your fault.”
“I guess I should help you take care of that, then,” I say, and he crawls between my legs, cups my face, and kisses me.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of having his mouth on mine. It’s firm but soft, and the slight scratch of his short scruff brushes against my lip and drives me wild. The way his tongue fights mine for control is intoxicating, and he smells just so fucking delicious I could drink him all day.
Reaching between us, I unzip his fly, bury my hand inside, and grasp his rock-hard cock. I stroke him root to tip, and when I circle my thumb over his slit, he bites down on my lower lip sending a twang of pain shooting through me.
“Fuck, I want you,” he pants, moving his mouth to the crease of my neck.
“Oh. Wow, okay, yep, that’s good.”
“Just wait for what comes next.”
“What’s that?”
“You.”
He moves back, cock slipping from my grasp as he kneels and strips off his shirt.
“Get naked,” he says, and I lean sideways to check through the doorway opening.
“You’re not worried someone will see us?”
“I got you covered,” he says, then he pulls a cord beside the door and a fabric blind rolls down.
He turns his phone flashlight on and rests it against the wall as I strip.
While the cool night air wasn’t really an issue when I was clothed, once I’m totally naked, it’s really fucking cold.
We really didn’t think the whole treehouse thing through.
“You’re shivering,” Reid says, closing the gap between us. His body is like the heater I desperately needed, but its effect is limited to where our bodies connect.
“Is it too late to get a hotel room?” I ask through chattering teeth. Wow, that cold hit deeper than I thought.
“This was supposed to be romantic, and I’ve totally messed it up,” he says, rubbing my forearms. His hands bring a moment of warmth, but it’s like the second they shift, the cold air overtakes the space again.
“You wanted this to be romantic?” I shiver.
“I didn’t want you to freeze to death in my treehouse. Get dressed, I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate back in the house.”
“You sure?”
He kisses me softly and quickly.
“I’m sure.”
He shifts back and pulls on his clothes in record time. It takes me longer with my hands shaking, and he helps pull my jacket back on and then goes down first.
“I’ll catch you if you fall,” he says, and I glance at him over my shoulder, his big arms out ready. He’s looking up at me like I’m the only person in the world, and I do something completely reckless.
“Prove it,” I say, and then I let go and fall.
Next thing I know, I’m safe in his hold.
“Told you. Now, how about that hot chocolate?” he asks, and I rest my head against his shoulder.
“I’ll go anywhere you carry me.”
“So, the kitchen and then up to my room, then?”
“Absolutely.”
I’ve taken one sip of the hot chocolate he’s made me, when I tell him, “I’m warm, let’s go.” And he sweeps me up in his arms again to carry me up the stairs just like he promised.
We’re about halfway up when I pick up the mix of his brother’s music playing from the front side of the house.
One is playing “Please,” by Sabrina Carpenter, and the other is pumping some nonsensical grunge music that I really didn’t expect from either of them.
It’s not bad, just loud, and maybe a little angry.
Reid turns on music when we get into his room, and I’m not sure why I thought he’d be a record kind of guy, but I was totally wrong. He’s got a sleek sound bar sitting just above a slightly smaller television than the one downstairs.
“Any preferences?” he asks as I move through the room, taking it all in.
He’s got a huge bed, which makes sense, he’s a big guy, and it’s centered on the outside wall.
To the left is a large leather armchair, which looks like it was probably part of a set with the couch downstairs as it has similar block feet and worn brown leather, and there are open doors to what looks like a closet and an en-suite bathroom.
“The radio’s fine,” I say, stripping off my jacket and stepping forward, pressing my chest against his back and wrapping my arms around his middle. I unbutton his fly and then spin him around, and drop his pants, kneeling to the ground as I take them down.
His hard cock is leaking, and I grip his base in one hand and slide my tongue over his slit, my mouth watering again at the taste of him. And then with a soft moan, I swallow him down to his base.
“Oh god, yeah, that’s amazing,” he gasps.
I stare up through my lashes at his perfect, hard body, my free hand sliding over his abs, inch by fucking inch.
“I need you on the bed,” he says, and I release him with a pop.
“You can have me wherever you want me,” I reply, and he helps me to stand and strips off my shirt. This time, in the warmth of his room, I’m not a shivering mess. We toss our clothes to the floor, and as I climb onto the bed, he goes to the bedside table and pulls out a condom and lube.
“Just in case you want to take things . . . further,” he says and I nod.
“Oh, I want that. I really fucking want that. If you wanted to do that, I mean, I would be open to it. I . . .” Suddenly, I’m nervous.
I’ve been with only a handful of guys, and penetration wasn’t something they were all into.
Plus, in college, it’s not exactly like you really know what you’re doing, you just sort of figure out what you like as you go, and it took until the third time for me to really know I love being fucked just as much as I enjoy pegging a guy.
Probably why I was bi for so long. I didn’t mind girls, they were nice enough, but they didn’t give me the same rush I got when I was with a guy.
No one gave me the same electric buzz Reid does.
“I would be into it,” he says, and he climbs onto the bed, kissing down my chest, my abs, my cock.
“Oh wow, okay, yeah,” I gasp as he swallows me deep into his throat. He reaches for the lube and coats his fingers, then as he takes me into his mouth again, he slides his slick fingers down the crease of my thigh and circles my entrance.
My hips rise to meet him, my body moving in time with him like we’re locked in a dance, him leading, and me willingly following every step of the way.
He buries his fingers inside and I arch my back, fingers white-knuckling the bedsheets as he spreads me open.
“Mmhmm, that is so . . . so . . . good,” I gasp as he adds another finger, the slight sting passing quicker than I expect it to. I guess my whole body wants him as much as my cock does. Fuck, the way he’s suctioned around me, I’ll be lucky if I don’t come before he’s even done prepping me.
I turn my attention to holding on, keeping control as he edges me closer and closer to orgasm.
“Please fuck me,” I gasp, finally losing control of my resolve.
He kneels between my legs, grabs the condom and rolls it down his rigid cock, covering it in lube, and then positions himself at my entrance.
“Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Fuck yeah.”
And then the burn is intense, his cock so much thicker than his fingers, but I want this. I need this. I need him. I breathe through it. Every inch deeper, the ache lessens, and then he bottoms out with a shudder.
“Are you okay?” he asks, one hand cupping my face.
“Oh yeah,” I say, as I revel in my glorious view of his glistening, hard body hovering above me.
He rolls his hips gently, and then not so gently, getting bolder with each thrust. I grip the back of his neck and pull him to me, our mouths clashing together.
I kiss him hard, desperate, greedy, and he stops holding back.
He’s got one hand on the headboard and the other holding one of my knees up by my ear, giving him maximum depth, and when his cock thrusts against my prostate, my nails claw at his back as we break our kiss and I cry out.
“Fuuuuck.”
“I’m so close,” he gasps.
“Me too,” I groan, and I wedge my hand between us and jerk myself in time with him. “Oh yeah. More, more, harder. Fuuuuck,” I call out, my orgasm hitting like a tsunami. He’s a beat behind me, his whole body shaking as he peaks.
“That was . . . incredible,” Reid gasps as he withdraws and collapses to the bed beside me.
“Hell yeah, it was.”
We’ve finally caught our breaths, when Reid asks, “Are you going to run away again?”
I roll onto my side, resting my head over his heart, the faint patter of it like a secret song only I get to hear.
“Do you want me to go?”
“No. But I won’t make you stay if you don’t want to be here.”
“What about your brothers? Will they be okay with me still being here in the morning?”
“They’ll be fine. They’re the only ones who can know, though,” Reid says, and I prop my head up on my hand to look down at him.
“Who else would we tell? I totally agreed with you before. When we’re at work, we’re at work, but the second we leave that rink, you’d better believe I am going to be all up in the awesomeness of you.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”