23. Anvils and Telephone Poles
ANVILS AND TELEPHONE POLES
Mark
There’s no cell in my spreadsheet for the way I feel right now.
Asher was right—the sheet is a piss-poor way to describe all the things I’m feeling, and all the things I want. There aren’t even words for the way the water caresses my body, making me tingle everywhere. Or the way Asher’s kisses taste. Like heat. And need.
Getting into the pool was the best idea I’ve ever had. And it turns out that a swimming pool isn’t actually a boner killer after all. I’m on fire, and mere cold water could never extinguish it.
My brain is full of static as Asher climbs off my lap. “Come on,” he whispers. “Out you go.”
I take a drunken glance at the house. It’s dark and quiet. I should probably be shocked when Asher guides me down onto a chaise lounge again.
And I should be even more shocked when he says, “Hands and knees.”
But I’m not shocked. I’m just . . . consumed with want.
I sneak another glance at the house. The chair Asher chose is blocked by a potted palm. So if someone does wander by, only eighty percent of my dignity will be shredded.
And I’m too drunk on lust to care.
I do as I’m told. Suddenly, a cool hand wanders up my inner thigh. A muscular knee presses between my legs. It’s almost rude, the way he’s spreading me open.
Yup. There should be a spreadsheet cell for nudging my knees apart like he owns them. Hell, I might need a whole new tab for the way he’s manhandling me right now.
I wait for the snick of the lube bottle, but it never comes. Has he lost it? I lift my head to look around when suddenly his thumbs spread my ass cheeks apart, and a hungry tongue traces my rim.
My head falls forward as a hot gasp escapes my chest.
But I lose his tongue immediately. And then one of his hands reaches around to clamp over my mouth as his chest covers my back. “Quiet,” he snarls into my ear.
I nearly come on the spot.
He’s braced me with strong arms against his body. My dick is as hard as a telephone pole. And the hiss of his voice in my ear is the sexiest part of all. “Banks. If you make any more noise, I’ll have to take you inside.”
I nod in agreement.
Releasing his hold, he kisses a slow path down my back. I’m vibrating with anticipation as he spreads me apart slowly again. And I stop breathing when his hot mouth finds my hole.
It’s . . . outrageous how good that feels. Slick and dirty. I press my face against my arms and try to breathe instead of moaning. But when he snakes a naughty hand between my thighs to tease my balls, I have to bite my own wrist.
And it doesn’t stop. He licks and teases and tortures me until I’m a damn mess. Until I’m so hard it hurts. But the moment I reach down to try to rub my aching cock, he gives me a single, sharp slap on the ass.
Then he grabs my arm and pulls me up off the chair. “We’re going in,” he whispers. Or maybe I only hear it in my head as he grabs our clothing off the deck and shoves it into my arms, along with my glasses.
I follow him at a fast clip into the house, where he closes the door behind us and orders me onto his bed.
Asher disappears for a moment. I hear water running as I haul the comforter off the king-sized bed and lie spreadeagled on the sheet. My heart is pounding like I’ve run a half marathon, and my cock is heavy like an anvil between my legs.
I’ve never felt more alive than I do right this second.
“Roll onto your side, baby,” he rasps as he returns to the room. “Bend your knee.”
I look up, and there he is in all his muscular glory, and he looks voracious.
God, I’m a lucky man. Loopy with desire, I arrange my body the way he’s asked as he sinks onto the bed in front of me.
He opens the lube bottle and pours some into his hand.
My eyes practically roll back in my head as he reaches around to press the pad of one thick finger against my hole.
“Breathe,” he says.
And I do. But I’m so willing it doesn’t even matter. I bear down on that slick finger and groan with pleasure. The invasion is unfamiliar and it stings a little. And it’s still exactly what I crave.
“Jesus, Banks.” Asher makes a low noise of approval. “You’re magic.”
“More,” I growl, as I shift to my back.
“Patience,” he whispers. Then he leans down and kisses the place where my thigh meets my body. It’s unexpectedly tender, and I shiver from head to toe.
That’s when he swallows my dick in one shocking, well-practiced motion.
My back bows, and I let fly a string of curses. My skin breaks out in a sheen of sweat as Asher gives me a sturdy suck. And when he releases me a few moments later, I practically howl from the loss of his mouth.
“Easy, Banks,” he murmurs. “I’m not done with you yet.”
And he isn’t. As I sprawl on the bed, spread open and panting, he teases my crown and then takes me into his mouth again. His tongue is wicked and weighty against my shaft.
I press my shoulder into the mattress and groan. All my nerves are jumping with electric anticipation. And when I glance down to see Asher’s blond head bobbing between my legs, it’s almost more than I can stand.
Tonight, I’m living someone else’s life—some fun guy’s dream. A secret hookup in balmy Miami. With a guy whose sense of humor I’ve come to appreciate as much as I enjoy his sculpted shoulder muscles and the too-long golden hair at the back of his neck.
I reach down and run my fingers through it, and Asher moans.
That’s another thing my spreadsheet could never capture—this strange bubble of intimacy we’ve created in the tiny guest house. There’s no cell for the way his soft hair sifts between my fingers. Or the wickedly hot view I get next as he tilts up his chin to look me in the eyes.
“Fuuuck,” I whisper as he gives me another suck. “You’re killing me.”
His naughty finger slides farther into my channel. I can’t even sort out the sensations anymore. There’s the pressure in my ass, and the pleasure on my cock.
Then he strokes a place deep inside me, and I feel a kind of dark, intense pleasure that’s completely unfamiliar. And I hear a low, desperate moan that probably comes from me.
“You like that, Banks?” he murmurs.
My answer is a tangle of curses and gibberish.
With a chuckle, he moves his mouth away from my cock and kisses my stomach instead.
“More,” I beg.
“You’ll get more.” He strokes my prostate again and I arch off the bed with pleasure. “You ever do this to yourself?”
Well I thought I had. I’ve plugged myself while I jerk off. The pressure was nice. “It’s not the same,” I murmur.
His laugh is wicked. “Can you take two fingers?”
“I’ll take whatever you give me.”
Asher groans. “Careful what you wish for, hotshot. Aren’t we taking the list one item at a time?”
“What list?” I grunt. I’m ready to throw the damn thing overboard. Lists aren’t real life.
This is real life—the press of his finger into my body, and the fizz of longing pounding in my veins. I want this beautiful man with the smart mouth and crooked smile. I want this night to never end.
Sadly, his magic finger disappears. I lie boneless on the bed, listening to the sound of the lube bottle opening again while my heart thrums with anticipation.
Next comes the sting as he penetrates me once more. I’m expecting his mouth on my cock again too. Asher is a slick lover. He has all the moves. I don’t like to think too hard about all the men who’ve come before me—all the living he’s done while my life took a long nap.
This is the most fun I’ve had in years while I’m just a notch in his belt.
But those worries fall away as he hitches himself up my body and kisses my chest. That crazy hair of his tickles my chin as well as my nipples.
And I clamp a hand around the back of his neck and ask my body to stretch a little farther.
The burn is already easing off. He scissors his fingers and I groan as he brushes my spot again.
Yes. This. More, says the drumbeat of my heart. And I’m still waiting for his mouth to torture me again.
And it does—but not in the way I’m expecting.
Asher rises up, one strong arm wrapped around my thigh, and then he sinks down onto my chest for a kiss.
I moan against the unexpected assault of his tongue against mine.
The kiss is an erotic multiplier, heightening every sensation times ten.
I’m a forest fire, and I don’t want to be put out.
When I gaze up at Asher in the dark, I’m astonished to see my own wonder mirrored back at me. Those bright eyes bore into me, like he’s never seen anything so interesting in his life.
I’m greedy for him. I want more of his kisses and more of his artful touch. Just more . “Fuck me,” I demand. “Do it.”
He goes still. “Aren’t we saving that for later?”
“No,” I insist. “I’m on a deadline here. And you’ve got just what I need.”
He blinks. “A hard dick, and good hygiene?”
Hell, the way I feel about Asher is so much more than that. But I haven’t got any idea how to explain it. I’ll never forget this night. I’ll never forget him. And I’d never want to.
But that’s too many words for a guy who’s addled by lust. So I crane my neck and kiss him roughly instead. Our teeth click and our whiskers scrape and our tongues clash.
He moans, and I feel it in my balls.
I reach up and artlessly rub his chest. I don’t want to stop touching him.
Ever.