Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
“Seriously?” The plunge into pitch blackness sent the open bottle falling from Lincoln’s hand and splashing to the floor. He barely felt the cold water on his calves, because everything was slowly tilting to the side.
“Lincoln?” Emmett in the dark. Somewhere.
He reached out and grasped air, and that ended his ability to remain upright. Lincoln’s knees buckled, and he hit the floor hard on his right hip. “Fuck.”
A pale glow illuminated Emmett’s face—his cell phone. Lincoln blinked up at him as the dizziness faded, grateful for something to focus on. Emmett fiddled with his phone until a brighter light cast from the front.
Emmett knelt in front of him, phone aimed at the floor, his concern as endearing as it was annoying. One power failure and Lincoln was on his ass like a wimp. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry.” Lincoln rubbed at the back of his neck. “The sudden darkness just . . . I don’t know, I lost my center, I guess.”
“Understandable. I can’t believe we lost power.”
He glanced at the break room doorway, which was vaguely outlined by distant light. “Looks like the place has emergency lights somewhere out there.”
“Looks like. I hope this doesn’t last long.”
“Yeah. Hard to practice with lights when we don’t have lights.”
Emmett nodded. “Plus, you know, there’s a freezer full of food that could spoil.”
That too.
“It’s also the middle of summer and people are using a lot of power for air-conditioning,” Lincoln said. “Blackouts happen. It probably won’t last long.”
The phone’s light cast funny shadows across Emmett’s face. Pinpricks of white made his eyes sparkle. “However will we pass the time?” he asked, the perfect picture of innocence.
Lincoln took Emmett’s phone and put it on the counter behind him, light facing the ceiling, then tugged Emmett into a kiss.
Their mouths slid together, Emmett’s hot, spicy taste evaporating any thoughts Lincoln had of being seductive and slow.
With Emmett’s tongue plunging deep, all he could think was Please, yes, now.
Uncaring of the water on the floor, Emmett tugged Lincoln down, pulling them into what was becoming Lincoln’s favorite position—him on top, straddling Emmett’s thigh. Touching and kissing and rubbing against a man who made him lose his mind from a simple kiss.
Lincoln wanted more than kissing and groping over fabric.
He shifted them so he was between Emmett’s legs, their erections rubbing together.
An erection he’d been sporting for the last two hours, and he could finally find some relief for.
Emmett moaned into his mouth, then shoved a hand into Lincoln’s shorts to squeeze the top of his ass.
Lincoln licked and sucked his way across Emmett’s throat, tasting sweat and soap.
He rucked Emmett’s shirt up to his armpits, then dropped kisses across his pecs and abs, teasing the coarse hair around his navel until Emmett laughed and squirmed.
His chin hit a belt buckle, and he looked up across Emmett’s body.
“Can I?”
Emmett seemed to melt at the question. “Yes.”
He couldn’t not ask, not with the scar confession still so fresh. Lincoln worked the belt, then fly, and Emmett raised his hips so Lincoln could tug jeans and boxer briefs right off. Emmett yelped, then started laughing. “Sorry, floor’s cold.”
Lincoln raised up enough to tug off his own shirt, then bent and took Emmett into his mouth.
Emmett’s laughter dissolved into a long moan of pleasure that sent sparks down Lincoln’s spine.
He worked Emmett’s length with his mouth and hands, teasing the foreskin in the way he knew made Emmett crazy.
Took him to the back of his throat and swallowed.
Sucked on his balls until Emmett keened.
His crease beckoned exploration, but Lincoln still had enough sense not to go further than they’d already gone. Not until they talked about it. He never wanted Emmett to resent anything they did together, or to feel like Lincoln had pushed him.
Except Emmett grasped the backs of his knees and raised his legs higher, exposing himself more. Lincoln licked a stripe up his dick, then met his simmering gaze. “Tell me what you want,” Lincoln said.
“I’m not . . . I mean, just, please.” Emmett panted the words, his control close to slipping. The request seemed both desperate and painful. “Please.”
Lincoln didn’t relent; he needed Emmett to say it. “Tell me.”
“Touch me, please. Down there.”
“Touch you . . . like this?” He pressed the pad of his thumb over Emmett’s taint and rubbed.
Emmett’s legs jerked. “Lower.”
Lincoln nipped at Emmett’s thigh and dragged his thumb down to rest against Emmett’s hole. “Here?”
“Yes, please, Linc. There.” The muscle flexed against his touch. “There.”
Lincoln really, really wished they were on a bed with lube handy so he could finger Emmett until he screamed, but he didn’t have that. Plan B. He bunched up both of their shirts and shoved them under Emmett’s ass. Emmett watched him with so much innocent curiosity that Lincoln almost warned him.
He was glad he didn’t, because the first swipe of his tongue over Emmett’s hole got a beautiful stream of cussing unlike anything he’d ever heard from Emmett’s mouth.
Lincoln rarely indulged in rimming. Somehow sticking his tongue in someone’s ass felt way more personal than sticking his dick there, and it wasn’t exactly the most sanitary spot.
But with Emmett he savored the sharp, musky taste.
He devoured every gasp and groan and jerk from the body he was pleasuring—the most beautiful sort of music.
That tight muscle softened under his attention, allowing him to poke the tip of his tongue inside, and that got a very loud “Fuck!” out of Emmett.
Lincoln rode high on Emmett’s pleasure, adding a single finger to his teasing, pressing in to the first knuckle.
Emmett’s pleas became louder, more insistent.
His first time with anal had been topping, but Emmett was very clearly someone who loved having his ass played with. He’d be beautiful bottoming one day.
The idea of being Emmett’s first made Lincoln’s heart roll over and beg. He wanted that more than almost anything.
“Gonna come,” Emmett said.
Finger still inside, Lincoln sucked hard on Emmett’s cock.
Emmett shouted. His dick pulsed, and his ass clamped down.
Lincoln swallowed his load, catching a hint of bitter and salt before it was gone.
He licked Emmett clean, then sat back while Emmett lowered his trembling thighs to the floor on either side of Lincoln.
Emmett met his gaze over his sweaty, very sated-looking body. He squeezed his ass around the finger Lincoln still hadn’t removed. “Guh.”
Pride heated Lincoln’s chest. “I’ll take that as a high compliment.”
“Love that.”
“Good.” He wiggled his finger just to watch Emmett squirm and gasp. “I loved watching you fall apart.” He kissed Emmett’s softening cock once more, then slid his finger out.
Emmett whined. “Kiss me.”
Lincoln slid up Emmett’s damp body, pressing their chests together. He nuzzled Emmett’s throat with his nose. “Not sure you want that, considering.” Not before Lincoln found a toothbrush. Or a mint, at the very least.
“I do. I’m curious.”
Oh yeah, his Emmett was slowly showing his dirty side.
Lincoln let his mouth hover over Emmett’s, not closing the gap.
Allowing Emmett to rub their noses together.
To make a choice to kiss Lincoln and taste himself on Lincoln’s lips.
In his mouth. On his tongue. And he did.
Lincoln barely kept himself from rutting his still-hard dick against Emmett’s groin, not wanting to cause discomfort in a still-sensitive area.
The kiss went on and on, until Lincoln thought he could maybe come just from that. Emmett pulled back with a pant and a gasp, his cheeks rosy, eyes bright. “Thank you. I don’t know why I was so scared of that. Why I never wanted Eric to touch me there.”
Lincoln stroked his bare shoulder. “Yeah, you do.”
“Yeah, I do. Same reason I hesitated for so long in crossing the bridge to penetrating him. Allowing him to touch me down there, much less what you did . . .”
“Too gay?”
Emmett flinched. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re breaking down those walls, Em. Accepting that loving rimming and being fingered isn’t dirty or wrong. It makes you feel good, and I love making you feel good.”
A bit of doubt still lingered in his eyes. “It seems so stupid now.”
“No one has sex the same, or at the same pace. And having a tongue in your ass is a far cry from a dick, so it’s not as if you need to jump straight from one to the other.”
“Would you want that? To, ah, penetrate me?”
Lincoln burned with the idea of fucking Emmett—being the first to fuck Emmett—but not anytime soon.
Emmett needed to ease into this. Not physically so much as mentally and spiritually.
If he crossed lines too fast, before he’d accepted that it was okay to do so, he might regret his choices. And resent Lincoln.
“I would like that one day, yes.” He kissed Emmett lightly on the nose. “Sometime in the future. In a soft bed. I want to do it right for your first time, Em.”
“If it’s with you, it’s right.”
Puddle. Goo. Melting.
He tugged Emmett up into a hug. They were both damp, sweaty, sticky, and kind of smelled like ass, but that was okay.
All of it was okay. Perfect, even. Emmett was unlike anyone he’d ever known—a perfect combination of innocent and wicked, wide-eyed and intent.
He wasn’t incredibly experienced, but he knew what he wanted.
And for some ungodly reason, he wanted Lincoln.
The lights chose that moment to flash to life. Lincoln slammed his eyelids shut against the sudden glare and buried his face in Emmett’s neck.
Understanding immediately, Emmett ruffled his hair. “Stay here, okay? I’ll go get your sunglasses.”