Chapter 23
twenty-three
. . .
Time had slowed to a crawl, but Heath’s brain was running at double speed.
Each gentle brush of Evan’s lips, whisper-soft and investigative, sent him deeper into the fire. It was torture. Delicious, exquisite torture.
Evan did it again, and again, changing the angle or the pressure. Lightly flicking his tongue against Heath’s bottom lip until he opened and let the fire consume him.
He ran his hands through the tactile glory of that chest hair. He wanted to throw Evan down and rub all over him, like a dog in freshly cut grass. He was obsessed.
The man was a sensory playground. Sharp, funny, gorgeous. They’d spent days together, and he’d yet to get bored.
The water kicked on and the mirrors steamed, and Heath considered they might want to have a conversation before things went any further. Then Evan’s fingers tightened in his hair and the kiss changed from curious to ravenous.
He had no business aching so soon after having already come, but the hard length of Evan’s cock pressed against his rejuvenated erection, and all his good intentions flew right out the window.
The man read him like a tawdry novel, moving his hips in a slow circle and kissing him until his legs threatened to dissolve.
Was it the baby-eating lawyer powers that gave him this innate ability to sense his needs before even he had?
Every touch was perfection, like they’d been doing this for years.
“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine.”
“Way more interested in your front, but I’ll pencil it in.”
Heath whimpered and stepped into the stone shower enclosure. Warm water tingled across his back, and Evan’s chest hair brushed his nipples, making his head spin.
They really needed to talk about this, but… Oh, God… later. Much, much later.
They tumbled onto the mattress, bodies still damp from a shower that had gotten them far dirtier than clean. There’d been no discussion about this dramatic shift in their dynamic, nor about where he would sleep that night. Evan hadn’t given him a choice, and he hadn’t argued. Hadn’t wanted to.
They also hadn’t discussed whether sleep was actually occurring, and he wasn’t arguing about that, either. Lord, it had been a long, long time since he’d been with a man who liquefied both his brain and body. This was the purest catnip, and he could already feel an addiction forming.
Evan pinned him back and Heath arched into him, moaning like the shameless hussy he’d always wanted to be.
The man kissed with his whole body. One hand in Heath’s hair, the other gripping his hip or ass—whatever he could reach.
The soft caress of his lips and tongue followed every scrape of teeth, easing the sting and building the delirium.
They made out like teenagers, tasting and petting one another until Heath reached the fraying edges of his control.
God, his fantasies had been paltry compared to the real thing.
He’d never expected… well, he hadn’t exactly expected he’d be in this position at all, but he definitely wouldn’t have thought Evan would be so relaxed about it.
It begged the question—how far would he let things go?
Testing the boundaries, he grabbed the ass of his dreams and gave it a hard squeeze, earning a growl and thrust that shot his ego to the moon, so he did it again.
“Fucking killing me,” Evan muttered, breaking the kiss to cover his neck in demanding licks and bites.
If he gives me a hickey, I’m having it tattooed and throwing away all my turtlenecks.
“What’s out of bounds?” Heath asked in someone else’s voice. Someone who smoked Pall Malls and drank rotgut from a jug.
“Nothing.”
He waited for the slice of a scythe, certain the Grim Reaper would momentarily appear, because he’d surely just had an aneurysm. There was no way Evan was giving him carte blanche of his body barely an hour after his first experience with another man.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
Christ, this man. Eyes dark and shimmery, with sparkling flecks of golden green around pupils like dinner plates. A light flush bloomed across his freckled cheeks and chest.
“You…” Heath dropped his head to stare at the sheets, his eyes traveling along the taut ridges of Evan’s stomach to where their cocks pressed together. He shuddered and cleared his throat, averting his eyes and giving the conversation thing a second attempt. “You might think you mean that, but—”
“But you figure a guy who’s had straight sex all his life wouldn’t be up for a little ass play?”
Heath blinked several times while making incoherent word-like noises. No, now he’d had an aneurysm.
“Heath, I haven’t had sex with a ton of people, but I’ve had a lot of sex with the people I’ve been with, and I’m not afraid to get freaky. I like freaky.”
More blinking and gibbering followed, and Heath had to close his eyes and take deep, steadying breaths to hold back the hysterical, joyous laughter bubbling in his chest like a hydrogen bubble. Thank you, God. Any God. All the gods. Just… thank you.
“Be that as it may,” he began, his tone suddenly a high tenor, “maybe we take it one step at a time?”
“Sure, I don’t want to scare you.”
He kissed Evan with every ounce of ill-advised desire he’d been storing up, rolling him onto his back and straddling him. At some point, he expected to wake up, realize this was all a dream, and become angry enough to spontaneously combust, but not yet. Jesus, not yet.
He ran his fingers down Evan’s chest, pausing at each nipple to tease it taut and give it a little pinch, the gasps and moans driving him to lick and bite them until pleasure scratched down his spine and Evan’s fingers yanked his hair in a bruising grip.
“Gorgeous and eager.” Heath caught Evan’s eye and dipped his tongue into the well of his belly button. Evan laughed, his head dropping to the pillows.
“Asshole.”
Heath’s tongue flicked across the head of Evan’s thick, perfect dick, and the laugh bled into a moan. Jesus, it was beautiful. Thick and salty-sweet, it fit in his hand as though it was made to. Another fount of ambrosia in a seemingly bottomless well.
He wrapped his lips around the shaft and took his time getting acquainted. Rising, lowering, and flicking his tongue until his throat relaxed to the size and rhythm, and then he bottomed out in the ginger-brown curls at the base.
Evan’s hands knotted in the sheets, the corded muscles in his neck flexing with every sharp inhale, every exhale a harsh hiss through clenched teeth, cascading into expletive-laden moans.
Heath wanted the image burned into his memory. He never wanted to forget the look of blissed out agony on Evan’s face while his dick was getting sucked by a true aficionado.
God, it was everything. The ragged breathing. The tortured moans and groans. Heath savored it. Reveled in it. He wanted to rent a goddamn U-Haul and live in it.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—”
The hell you are.
Heath gripped tight and squeezed, cutting off the flood of the impending orgasm filling his shaft, and Evan sucked in a harsh breath. “Fuck! Shit. Oh, goddammit.”
That was the moment Heath slid his index finger against the tight rim of Evan’s ass, pressing gently while taking only the swollen maroon tip of his dick back into his mouth.
The fingers in his hair twisted into a fist as Evan’s thighs spread and he bucked hard enough to send Heath choking and pulling back.
“Sor—sorry. So good. Fuck. Sorry.”
Heath dragged his thumb across his mouth, relishing the moment. “Please don’t apologize for enjoying yourself.”
Evan’s arm draped across his eyes as he laugh-groaned. “You need to enjoy it too.”
Heath waited for Evan to peek beneath his arm and gestured to his own straining cock. “Do I look like I’m not? Now shush and let me work.”
Crawling to the head of the bed, Heath rifled through the bedside table for the small bottle of lube he’d brought along, figuring it would come in…
handy. Evan watched him prep his fingers with hooded eyes, a no doubt wry comment lost to the ether when Heath leaned back and sucked Evan down without preamble.
Swirling his slick finger over Evan’s entrance, he pressed, breaching the ring of muscle just the tiniest bit while swallowing him down.
He was prepared for Evan’s reaction this time.
For the long, guttural moan that ebbed and flowed with each thrust of his cock into his mouth, and the shift of his hips so he could take more, eagerly fucking himself on Heath’s hand.
Heath was on the verge of orgasmic enlightenment.
He added a second finger, curling them to hit the spot he hoped would push Evan over, his dreams immediately realized with the spreading of Evan’s legs as he bucked and shouted “Fuck!” at the top of his lungs, the spray of his release filling Heath’s throat.
He’d been afraid to look while they were on the couch, but now he stared unabashedly, gloating over every second of Evan falling to pieces because of him. Clenched teeth, flushed skin, flexed muscles—Heath hardly thought himself a sexual savant, but right then, he felt like a god.
He traveled back to the pillows, placing gentle, teasing kisses across Evan’s stomach. Humming happily when hands grabbed and pulled him onto his chest.
“I should’ve done this years ago.”
Heath snorted, tamping down an unreasonable jealousy at the thought of anyone else having this experience. He’d never been someone’s first, and felt a raging possessiveness knowing this pristine, unspoiled landscape was his to claim.
“So, about this—” Heath struggled for the words to convey what he wanted to say versus what he should say.
He wanted to know what this meant—now and later—but only an idiot would interrupt the afterglow with questions about a future that wasn’t happening.
They had one week left in the villa together, and if Evan wanted to spend it fucking each other senseless, who was he to argue?
Why ruin a potentially amazing fling with depressing reality?
Other than because he was an idiot who always ruined good things by overthinking.
“So, about this…” Evan countered, running the tip of his finger along Heath’s still very hard cock, erasing every word he’d planned to say.
“Um, what about it?” He didn’t allow himself to form expectations. He didn’t dare.
“Seems unfair not to return the favor.”
Do not wake up. Don’t you dare wake up!
“Evan, you don’t—” His protest died on a gasp as Evan’s hand wrapped around him and squeezed.
“Heath?”
“Y—yes?”
“Shut up.”
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.