Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JEREMY
Iwake up to gentle snoring and a thick arm wrapped around my body.
At first, I think I must be dreaming. Everything from yesterday has to have been a dream. There’s no way Marcus came around so easily. There’s no way we wrung multiple orgasms out of each other in the last forty-eight hours.
I move my hip and grimace because the sheets beneath me are definitely stiff with dried cum.
Gross. So not a dream. But also, Marcus fucking Conner is sleeping next to me—willingly!
I don’t want to move. I don’t want to even breathe for fear that I’ll break this blissful bubble that we’ve found ourselves in.
Marcus’s big body is wrapped around me, and I can feel every inch of his skin in high definition against my back—his biceps, his pecs, the roughness of his chest hair, his abs, and, my favorite, his cock, which is now as hard as steel and poking into my ass in a very delicious way.
He nuzzles his face into the nape of my neck. “Don’t move like that again unless you want to get fucked,” he rasps in the sexiest morning voice I’ve ever heard.
“Promise?” I can’t help it, I grind back against him, and his arm drops to my hip, his fingers digging in.
“Jeremy . . .”
I smile because his tone is adorably grumpy, and with a snicker, I wiggle again, choosing to poke the bear.
Or maybe have him poke me.
“How’s that straight thing working out for you?”
He growls. “Are you really going there this morning? I haven’t even had any caffeine yet.”
“I’m just saying, if you’re still confused, what we did last night was pretty gay.”
In a movement that’s much smoother than I expect, Marcus flips us, straddling my body and pinning my arms to the bed.
His morning look is in-fucking-credible: lush pink lips, rugged stubble, hair sticking up everywhere.
His wide chest is covered in a layer of dark hair that trails down his narrow waist and disappears beneath the waistband of his boxers.
I lick my lips as I ogle him, and Marcus clears his throat. “I’m up here, Jer.”
“I’m aware,” I murmur, admiring his thick length, which is significantly tenting his boxers.
“Quit looking at my dick.”
I glance up at him. His whisky eyes squint at me with a hint of annoyance and a whole lot of lust. “If you’re trying to be less gay, big guy, this is not it.”
Marcus cocks his head in a very predatory way, and his gaze darkens. He releases one of my wrists and pinches my chin in his grip. It hurts a little, and my cock goes from semi-hard to rock solid. “Maybe you missed the part where I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“No, I heard you—”
He covers my mouth with his hand and lowers his face to mine. “Shut up, Jeremy.” His voice is a deep rumble that I feel in my chest. I resist the childish urge to lick his hand because that would certainly kill the tension between us.
Whether he means to or not, ever since our encounter at The Pegasus, Marcus has given me a lot of power over him.
Last night while I was cleaning us up, I could viscerally feel the moment that he’d had enough.
He felt helpless—I could see it in the way he watched me, fidgeting like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.
It’s why I didn’t ask him explicitly to stay. He would have left.
Instead, I gave him a choice. I gave him back his control.
But now, with his hand crushed over my mouth and the other hand sliding to my throat, dominant Marcus is out to play.
A thrill of excitement rushes through my limbs.
This is the side of him that graduated from business school early and at the top of his class.
The side that shelters his siblings from their dad’s bullshit.
The infuriating side that questions my designs and makes me rethink everything.
He gives me a smirk. “If this is all it took to shut you up, I would have done it sooner.”
“Liar” is my muffled reply.
He leans forward, savagely pushing his cock against mine. I whimper into his hand, my eyes drooping closed. “You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with my cock, pretty boy. Do I have that right?” I open my eyes, our gazes connecting, and he drops his hand. “Answer the question.”
“Y-yes.”
He reaches between us and gives me a hard squeeze. I yelp in surprise, but it fades into a needy moan.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir?” I squeak.
He squeezes again, harder this time. “Try again. Yes, what? What do you want?”
“Yes, I’m obsessed. I want your cock.” I’m panting like the pathetic slut I am, but it feels euphoric.
I’m accustomed to men controlling me, but Marcus is outwardly, by far, peak masculinity, and I’ve never been with anyone like him.
He’s all muscles and hair with a huge cock to match, and it’s making me crazy.
I don’t think he’s ready to fuck me—yet—but if he offered, you can bet I’d be on all fours with my ass in the air like an obedient fucking show dog.
He releases me and stands near the edge of the bed, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs. His cock springs free, the head already slick with precum. “Come here.”
I scramble over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He cups my face. “Good boy. Such a pretty mouth.”
I lick my lips in anticipation. I haven’t tasted him since that first night, and I’m dying for another round. Marcus runs his hand through my hair and grips my strands, tilting my head back.
He places his mushroomed tip on my lips. “Open.”
I do, and he slides in much farther than I anticipate. I gag when he hits the back of my throat but quickly recover when he pulls out and thrusts in again.
Unlike last time, Marcus isn’t being shy or gentle; he’s brutal, and I love it.
I swirl my tongue around him, taking him deep until my nose is in his pubes, and I swallow around his cock, his precum a delicious hint of saltiness on my taste buds.
“Jesus, this mouth,” he says around a groan. “It feels . . . amazing.”
My saliva drips down his shaft, making a mess, and I use my other hand to rub the wetness into his balls and press my finger along his taint. His muscles tense as I slide my finger between his cheeks, the tip ghosting over his hole.
“Fuck,” he rumbles, gripping my hair so tight that my scalp aches, but it’s making my balls heavy, and my cock is so hard, it hurts.
I don’t know what’s happening. Giving head has never made me this horny. Ever.
“Mmm, look at you. Taking my cock like a good boy.”
“Shitshitshit,” I mumble around his cock because his praise lights me up. Desire swells in my veins, and it unexpectedly pushes me over the edge. I come hard and quick, filling my boxers as I grunt and groan around Marcus’s thick cock.
“Did you just—”
My only answer is a hum of acknowledgment.
“That’s so hot.” Marcus groans again, much louder this time, and my eyes water as his movements become frantic. He gives a final brutal thrust, unloading hot cum down my throat. It fills my mouth and drips down my chin, but I swallow as much as I can.
I fall onto my back, and Marcus collapses at my side. We lie there in silence, listening to the rush of the ocean outside.
This morning during breakfast, Marcus kept peeking at his phone, looking so serious, and I got annoyed, finally telling him to turn it off for the rest of the trip because it was killing my vibe.
Surprisingly, he listened.
After retrieving Marcus’s boots from their place of shame on the bookstore lawn, we spend the rest of the morning walking the length of the beach.
He tells me a little bit about growing up with Seb and Charlie and about some of the shit that Charlie went through a few years ago when she met Link and Trey.
I tell him about living with my aunt after my parents died, though I skim over my year in foster care because I doubt he wants to hear my sob story.
Later, we drive into the neighboring town of Seaside during the afternoon to play at the arcade.
It’s the most fun I’ve had in a really long time.
Marcus leans over me, his front to my back as he takes a turn at the Star Wars pinball machine.
Honestly, playing it this way, with me nestled between his arms while he punches the buttons, his chin resting on my shoulder, is probably not helping his high score.
But I’ve learned quickly that I crave his touch, so I’m not complaining.
Marcus is so different right now. I know it’s because we’re here and not in Seattle, where we could run into friends or coworkers or his father, who I’ve concluded is the primary reason for his jumpy nature when it comes to his sexuality. The thought of going home makes me sick to my stomach.
Will he break this off? Or worse, will he hide me and make me sneak around like some of the guys I dated in college?
Those relationships never lasted long. I hate feeling like someone’s dirty secret.
But then again, none of those guys made me feel this way: cherished, important, wanted. None of them was worth waiting for.
And Trey taught me to have grace and patience.
He accepted me and all the other queer kids at our school.
He was never ashamed of his sexuality, and so, after I came out, neither was I.
Even though I was bullied a lot, my sexuality was never a question.
And it was nice to have someone I could fuck around and find out with but also cuddle with in the open when I was having a bad day. He always had my back.
“Ha! Still got a high score,” Marcus says with a smirk, derailing my thoughts.
I glance at the scoreboard. “Not higher than whoever JLH is.”
Marcus scoffs. “That score has been there since I was a kid. Pretty sure it’s someone who works here.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“Do you want to try your hand? You’ve been abysmal at all the other games.”
“Ah, but little did you know that I am undefeated at pinball.”
His lips brush the shell of my ear. “Prove it, Starlight.”