Xander #3
The thought was dizzying in how much shock it carried, and I felt it send a jolt of electricity through me, allowing me to move.
It was another small thing, turning the arm that he held so my fingers wrapped around his arm, the two of us hanging onto one another.
The other hand was moving too, and I grabbed his other arm just above the elbow, as if to support my weight.
I knew he could feel the thunderous beat of my heart despite his hand not being pressed over it, and I wondered if he could tell I was having a hard time breathing.
I was pulling him to his feet, and he was rising until he stood before me.
His bulk was less than mine, I remembered, and he stood a few inches shorter than me.
It was enough difference that my body could comfortably cover his.
“Another stupid thing then,” he said softly, and though I could see his wariness, I could see growing boldness as well.
He pulled his hand from my midriff and brought it up to rest on the back of my neck in almost the same way I had held him when I’d kept him from falling in the clinic.
He gave a tug, enough to make his point but not insistent.
It felt like the point of no return, and I remembered I could bail out if I didn’t want this.
And perhaps I could, before this went too far, before it was too late and I was lost to whatever the hell was happening.
I leaned forward, our lips met, and as the fire inside me built to a roar, I realized I had probably been lost from the moment I had first seen him.
He was a man; that should have been weird, it should have been different, it should have been fucked up.
It was all those things, but it didn’t matter.
It was at least something I could deal with, something I knew how to handle.
I wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, to kissing, to taking my hand off his arm and gripping his waist so I could turn and push him against the desk.
I pushed him hard enough to make the cup of pens rattle, a grunt escaping him, but his fingers on my neck tightened, a silent encouragement.
Our lips parted, and I tasted him, tasted the whiskey on his tongue, and the lingering taste of cheap beer that we really needed to upgrade one of these days.
His arm came around my middle and yanked me closer even as I crowded him against the desk, as if he couldn’t get enough of what I was doing, as if I wouldn’t have to worry about breaking him because, smaller than me or not, he could take it.
My thoughts raced, making no sense as they leaped to conclusions, but I couldn’t argue against them either.
His tongue was pushing against mine, and the hand on my back loosened the formal shirt I’d put on in anticipation of the day.
Strong fingers pressed into my back, and I grunted, pushing him onto the desk so I wasn’t holding him steady anymore.
I shoved my hand under his shirt, knuckles brushing his skin as I took hold of his shirt and yanked it up.
We broke apart with a gasp before he lunged forward and took hold of me again, pulling our mouths together.
One of his hands, I didn’t know which because the man was a goddamn octopus, slid up my inner thigh.
My slacks weren’t nearly thick enough to conceal the heat of his hand, and there was only a moment of hesitation on my part when I realized where his hand was traveling.
He gave a grunt of surprise, of lust, of desperation, of worry; I didn’t know which.
His hand had barely started moving before I groaned when it grasped my cock, which I hadn’t even realized was hard; I had been too caught up in the moment.
Now, though, I realized I had probably been hard from the moment he first put his carefully controlled hands on me.
“I was right,” he mumbled against my mouth, bringing me back to reality even as I was kept in that lust-filled haze by the feel of his grip sliding up my shaft. “Your underwear didn’t leave a lot of secrets.”
“You said that was purely professional,” I complained angrily.
“It was and when I need to be your medic again, it won’t matter if you’re butt naked and on display while I treat you, it’ll be professional,” he said with a chuckle and my stomach twisted slightly when I felt him undo my pants with a pinch, and a twist of his wrist. “But outside those moments? ‘Big Boss’ is going to have a whole new meaning for me.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever fucking heard,” I growled against his lips.
“Maybe, but not so stupid that I didn’t just feel your dick twitch when I said it,” he said, and fucking hell, it was like he was purring.
“Shut the fuck up,” I said with as much heat as the first time.
“I’d say no again, but now you have new ways to shut me up,” he told me as he leaned forward, and I groaned faintly as I felt his mouth on my neck, traveling down as his hand did the same.
He apparently skipped fondling me through my underwear, and my head felt light and full of air when his teeth scraped my skin and his fingers closed around my cock with nothing to separate the brush of our skin.
When was the last time someone had touched me there?
I couldn’t remember the last time it hadn’t been my hand wrapped around me, well, I could but the drunken fumbling of the woman who’d taken pity on a man staring down an ugly divorce was nothing compared to the eager but controlled slide of Colin’s down my dick.
“Fuck,” I muttered. He was a guy, one of my guys for that matter.
I had warned him not to cause issues if he fucked around, but I had never for a moment considered it would be me he was fucking around with.
Maybe it should have been a sobering thought, but whatever power of sobriety it had didn’t compare to the feel of his hand on me, his mouth on my neck, or the bite of cool air as he freed me from my pants.
“Maybe another time,” he said with a chuckle. “If you can get through this, maybe I’ll give you the chance.”
My heart tripped over itself at the thought.
I hadn’t even considered the possibility of…
well, honestly, I hadn’t been thinking beyond the moment.
Shit, what the hell were we doing? What the hell was he thinking, considering there would be ‘another time’ in the first place?
Especially when ‘this time’ shouldn’t have even been happening.
Forget the fact that this was another man slowly jerking me off…
just like he’d been jerking himself off when I’d first met him.
God, that memory…at least now I understood why it haunted me so much. It still made little sense, but at least it made more sense.
“Think you might be able to help me a little?” he asked, and when I gave a confused look, he bounced his hips slightly, and I realized he was confined by his pants.
Reaching to undo his pants was the easy part, but realizing I was about to touch a dick that wasn’t mine for the first time buzzed around my head with uncertainty.
It was difficult to think clearly though when his hand was still stroking me, making my breathing shudder when his thumb brushed carefully over the sensitive head.
I didn’t know if he was intentionally trying to keep me out of my head, but it certainly did the trick.
The next thing I knew, my hand was in his underwear, wrapping around a dick I had thought about against my will many times over the past few days, and then it was out in the open.
I didn’t know what to think about the fact that it was exactly how I remembered it.
I shouldn’t have been able to recall another man’s dick so well, but there it was, in my grip and shining at the tip to show how excited he was over what was happening.
“There,” he said with a chuckle, clearly reading the confusion and surprise on my face. “You got through the hardest part…heh, hard.”
I growled again, grabbing him by the jaw and holding him steady. “Shut up.”
He smirked, and I knew what corny phrase was about to drop from his lips. “Make me, Big Boss.”
Damn him, the combination really was effective, and I hated that he could feel the way I swelled in his grip at the sound of the dare.
Well, if he wanted to be made to shut the fuck up, then maybe I could accommodate him.
I was already so far into the whole sordid mess; what harm was there in going further into unknown waters?
“Get off the desk,” I muttered, stepping back and pulling him. I didn’t need to yank him around by his jaw, of course, he came willingly, his eyes glinting with arousal and that same damned amusement that was getting on my nerves.
After a moment of consideration, I turned and dropped into the chair, leaving him standing before me as I kicked my underwear and pants away, spread my legs and looked up at him. There was no denying the burn of lust in his gaze, but he still looked at me and asked, “What?”
Of course it was going to be like that; there would have been no point in considering that it could be any other way, not with him.
He was going to test me every goddamn step we took, even at a time like this.
Yet, it was okay because I knew what he wanted to hear; I knew what he wanted, and I knew he was enjoying the whole thing.
Hell, maybe I was enjoying it a lot more than I was letting myself admit.
Still, it took a moment for me to dig deep and find the ability to look him dead in the eye, summon up the words that would commit me to the next step, and growl, “Put your mouth to good use for once and blow me.”
“What Big Boss wants, Big Boss gets,” he said lightly, and I knew then that using my nickname so suggestively was going to either get really old, really fast, or it was going to be the death of me.
Yet as I watched him remove his pants and socks, leaving him completely naked before he kneeled before me, sliding forward to get between my legs with that same easy grace and not bothering to hide his excitement, I feared it would be the second.