12. Cam #2
He hummed around my cock, almost like he was encouraging me. I could just picture him on the other side of the wall, on his knees, those sweet lips spread around my—oh, fuck, no. I needed to stop picturing that, actually, or I was going to come way too fast.
What was I doing, getting so turned on by Jordan anyway? He was Levi’s little brother. I was seven years older than he was. Wasn’t that kind of fucked up?
This was wrong, somehow. I was sure of it. Something that felt this good didn’t come without a price. Things this perfect didn’t happen to me.
I should have pulled back, should have put a stop to it before it was too late, but Jordan’s lips and tongue and quick, clever fingers were too much for me, and before I knew it, I was on the edge.
“Fuck,” I groaned, and he rewarded me by humming around my cock again. He set a steady, driving rhythm, and my whole body beat in time with it.
“Fuck, Jordan, I’m gonna come,” I said, panic rising in me. “Oh, fuck, it’s too good. It’s too—fuck, Jordan, I’m—I’m—”
Before I could even finish my sentence, I was coming, releasing into his mouth.
And instead of pulling away, instead of sputtering and yelling that I should have warned him, Jordan kept on sucking, his tongue caressing the underside of my cock, then wrapping around the head like he was trying to coax every last drop out of me.
Somehow, it was even dirtier not being able to see him, having to imagine everything. And the mental picture of him on his knees, drinking down my cum? My body tried its best for a second orgasm on the spot.
Finally, he pulled off, and I slumped against the wall. I was breathing hard and fast. He knocked on the door a moment later, and I fumbled with the latch, letting him in. Before I could even step back, he pulled me in for a kiss. I tasted myself on his tongue.
“I’m sorry,” I said, pushing him back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—” I broke off, not quite able to articulate the shame I felt.
“To come?” Jordan said, a smile playing on the corners of his lips.
“Not without warning you. I didn’t mean to make you swallow it.”
“You did warn me,” he said, his smile growing. “And you didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to taste you.”
“But I—” I shook my head. I felt like I was coming apart at the seams. “You don’t think there’s something weird about this? Something wrong?”
“You mean, aside from the obvious illegality of sucking you off in a public restroom?”
“I mean about us.”
“If there is, then I’ve been wrong since I was a teenager.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you were my first crush. The person who helped me figure out I was gay.” Jordan looked me right in the eye.
“I didn’t quite understand it when I was a kid, but by the time I was fourteen—well, let’s just say that this, right here?
—is a scenario I’ve played out many times before in my head.
” He grinned. “And it was even better than I hoped.”
I stared at him. So much for me wrapping my mind around this. Everything he said just made me more confused. How could he have liked me back then, when I didn’t even like myself?
His smile faltered after a moment. “Cam? Could you say something, maybe? I kind of just confessed that I’ve had a crush on you for upwards of a decade, and getting nothing but silence in response is a little terrifying.”
“Can I take you home?” I said, breathless.
Jordan grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I couldn’t technically take Jordan anywhere, since I’d biked over, but I let him slip out of The Port Hole first and met him at The Roastery ten minutes later. He was sitting on a bike of his own when I got there.
“Borrowed it from Levi,” he said. “Figured it was slightly less conspicuous than borrowing his car.”
I frowned. “Shit. Do you think he’ll notice that we’re both not at the dance?”
“Maybe, but I don’t think he’ll put it together.” Jordan smiled. “And even if he does, I’ve waited way too long for this to let my brother stop it. Take me home and ravish me.”
The ride back took us along curving island roads, cresting high bluffs, then dipping low to skim the sand in isolated bays.
My cabin was on a windy promontory on the south side of Tolliver, in the middle of a wildflower meadow.
We biked up the winding dirt path and leaned the bikes under the eaves on the far side of the house.
I headed for the front door, but Jordan just stared, first at the meadow, then at the coastal forest nestled in the ravine on the far side of my property, and finally at the ocean itself.
“You live here?” he said.
“Yeah.” I made a face. “It’s kind of small. And rustic. I’m sorry, I don’t usually have lots of visitors.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. It’s amazing.”
He wanted a tour of the property, but it was dark enough that there wasn’t much to show him aside from the shadowy garden on the west side.
“Nice melons,” he said with a grin.
The tour of the cabin itself took even less time, since it was so small, but Jordan seemed taken with the retro kitchen, and the bathroom with its floor-to-ceiling reclaimed windows that looked out over the ocean.
When we got back to the main room, I cleared my throat. “Do you, uh, want to see the bedroom?”
“No,” Jordan said, laughing. “No, I biked all the way out here just to admire your vintage kitchen appliances.”
“I didn’t want to sound pushy.”
He stepped in close, then pulled his shirt off over his head. He dropped it to the floor and put a hand on my chest.
“I officially give you permission to sound pushy.” His voice tugged at me like the ocean. “To be pushy, really. Push away.”
I swallowed. “There’s something else I should tell you. When I said I didn’t really have any experience, I, uh—I didn’t just mean with guys.” I made myself meet his gaze. “I don’t have any experience, period.”
His eyes went wide. “Really?”
“I’m sorry. I know that’s probably not the most attractive thing. I understand if that changes your mind.”
“The only thing that’s going to change my mind,” he said, “is if you keep apologizing.”
I flushed. “Sorry.”
“Frankly, I think it’s kind of hot that I get to be the person who introduces you to—well, to whatever you’re in the mood for.” His smile was wicked. “Did you have anything in particular in mind?”
A thrill ran through me. I felt as ruffled as the meadow outside.
“Anything,” I whispered. Jordan made me reverent. “Anything with you would be perfect. If you don’t mind teaching me.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” He tapped his chin. “Now, let’s see. You already let me suck you off. I’d be more than happy to do that again. I was kind of rushing things back there—more concerned with convincing you I was serious than savoring the experience like I wanted to.”
“What if I wanted to do you?” I asked. “Would that be okay?”
“To suck me off? Or to fuck me?” He smiled slyly. “The answer to either is yes. I’m just curious what you meant by do.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “I meant could I suck you off, but…”
“But the other one could be good too?” he finished for me.
“Whatever you want to do,” I told him. “If you don’t usually bottom, I could do that, too.
” I paused, then decided I might as well come out with it.
“I’d kind of like to try everything. Maybe not tonight, but eventually.
Not that I’m saying it has to be with you, or assuming you’d want to—that is, I’m not saying this has to be more than a one-night thing, I would never presume that—”
“Cam, what part of I like you do you not understand?” Jordan laughed. “Go ahead and try to make this a one-night thing, and see how that goes.”
“Really?”
“Really. Good luck getting rid of me.”
He pulled me down into a hard kiss, and we stumbled together into the bedroom, shedding clothes as we went. We landed on my bed in nothing but underwear, Jordan on top of me. I liked the feeling of his weight on my chest.
“This is it, by the way,” I said. “The bedroom.”
“It’s beautiful,” he said, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. He stroked a hand down my chest until he reached the waistband of my boxers. He snapped it lightly. “Can I see what’s under here?”
“I wasn’t aware that seeing underneath my clothes was part of the bedroom tour.” My hands traced down his back. His skin was so soft.
“Well, you’re in the bedroom. And so are your clothes. I’d say that counts.”
“Maybe on a technicality.”
“How about this—I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”
Now that was a proposition I could get behind. I did want to see Jordan. Wanted to see all of him. So even though this was the first time I’d been naked in front of anyone in—God, I didn’t even want to think about how long—I tugged his boxer-briefs down, and let him pull my boxers off too.
He was perfect. His cock was long and thin, rising from a soft thatch of brown hair. His hips were made for my hands. I wanted to touch him everywhere. To taste him. But when he pulled back to study me, I couldn’t help flinching.
“Don’t,” I said.
“Don’t what?”
“Just—come here.” I pulled him down so our bodies were pressed together. I was still wider and taller than him, but I felt less exposed this way.
Jordan’s brow furrowed. “What did I do?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head, feeling stupid.
“Clearly I did something.” He brought his hand to my chest. “Your heart is racing.”
“Can’t it just be racing from being here with you?”
I caught his lips in a kiss. I didn’t want him to think he’d messed up when he hadn’t at all. Plus, he had a tendency to close his eyes when he kissed me.
“Cam.” Jordan looked frustrated when he broke the kiss. “Please, just tell me. I can take it. Are you changing your mind? Because it’s okay if you are. If this is moving too fast for you.”
“It’s not that,” I groaned. “I just—I’m just not used to being looked at. Or, at least, not used to it being a good thing, when someone’s staring at my body.”
“Oh.” Jordan’s voice was soft. “I didn’t realize.” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “Is there anything I can do to convince you that when I’m looking, it’s definitely a good thing?”