Chapter 5 Isaac
ISAAC
Idon’t normally do this, but I needed that kiss.
The instant our tongues met, I realized how long it’s been since I truly kissed a man.
Months. It’s been months. Nearly a year.
It’s not like me to dismiss something I take such immense pleasure from as unimportant or unnecessary, but it seems I have.
Deacon is a large man—very tall and packed with lean muscle.
Not the type of man I usually go for, but there was something in his kiss I recognized.
Hardcore wanting and a whisper of submission.
For those three or four seconds, he gave me the full run of his mouth, but after today, I require significantly more to be adequately distracted from coming face to face with Evan’s ex.
The fact that they went to lunch together leaving me to fend for myself at Brittney’s farewell party had me wanting to break everything in my office.
“I live right here,” I say as we step outside the restaurant, into the freezing rain.
Deacon looks up at the building next door I’ve pointed out. “Convenient.”
“Unintentional. The sushi here is excellent.”
“Guess I’ll come back another time. For the food, I mean.”
I rest my hand on his lower back and aim him toward my building.
He moves easily, and I try not to rush him, but it’s raining, and we’re eventually jogging with ducked heads.
I wanted a distraction from this hopeless crush on my assistant?
I found one. This man is fucking gorgeous.
Those eyes—the dimples—Jesus. I’m so grateful he made a move.
During the minute or two we were talking, I became less and less sure what the fuck I wanted to do with him, if anything, but he made up my mind for me, and I have to say, I wasn’t expecting it. Definitely not so soon.
Alone with him in the elevator, just to be sure, I wrap my hand around his neck and pull him in for another kiss. He moans into my mouth, grasping me by the hips. He lets me bite his lips and lick his tongue until the car jolts to a stop.
Pulling away, I get high off the glaze of lust in his eyes. “Whatever I want, huh?”
He nods, gaze fixed to my mouth.
I crowd him again. “What does that mean?”
“It means…well, I usually bottom.”
“No problem.” That was the vibe I got.
I slide my hand behind his belt buckle and give him a firm yank, causing him to stumble out of the elevator after me, directly into my penthouse.
“Shit,” he whispers after one look at the place.
I get to work unbuttoning his shirt. “You like that?”
“It’s nice,” he says, his face moving close to mine again.
I take the opportunity he’s offering and seal my mouth to his.
This time, his hands move into my wet hair, and he grunts as we instinctively move closer, smashing our cocks together.
He’s as hard as I am, and I want to see it.
I want everything. But this kiss is too good to quit. It might even be saving my sanity.
Pulling and pushing and turning each other, we somehow make it to the terrace doors, and his back slams into the glass.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
“Sorry.” I go for his mouth again but take advantage of my position to open his pants.
The tip of his cock has escaped the confines of his boxer briefs, and I follow it down with the palm of my hand.
It’s sticky with precum and hot against my skin.
Shit. This is happening. Do I even remember how to do this? “What do you like?”
“That,” he gasps.
“What about this?” I ask as I get a grip on him and pull.
His neck arches, and his mouth drops open. “Yes.”
My lips trail over his Adam’s apple. “You’re huge everywhere.”
“I’m training for an Iron Man.”
“Fuck…” I growl, frustrated with all these clothes—with the fact that we’re nowhere near the bed. “How are you single?”
“My life is messy, too.”
Those words cut me to the bone, and I take my hand out of his pants, putting it back on his face and making him look at me again. “I’m in love with someone who won’t have me. What’s your story?”
He meets my eyes. “I’m just trying to make it to Monday.”
He gets a weak, sympathetic smile from me for that. “You sure you wanna start off with me?”
His nod is stoic, but certain.
“Come to my room?”
“Okay.”
Deacon follows me through the living room and down the hallway.
Once we’re in my bedroom, I take another look at him.
His jacket is off, and his pants are still undone, but his cock is tucked away again.
I walk to the side of my king-sized bed and turn on the lamp.
My dick is no less hard than it was when I was holding his in my hand.
I unbuckle my belt and slide it out of the loops, eager to get close to him again.
Closer. I toss the belt in the general direction of my closet and stare at Deacon as he approaches the foot of the bed.
If chemistry is a thing, the air in the room is crackling with it. It’s unlike any other one-night stand I’ve ever experienced. Swallowing hard, I nod at him. “Undress.”
He peels off his tight black sweater revealing the best body of any man who’s ever graced my bedroom.
Evan hasn’t technically been in my bedroom, and I’m more obsessed with his body than I am with breathing.
I also dated a model once, but his body was nothing like this granite slab of a man.
I tend to go for prettier? Cuter? Smaller, certainly because most men are smaller than I am, but this man is something else.
This is a man I’m not sure I would have thought were gay if I hadn’t met him on an app. And how messy is messy? This could turn into a disaster, but my cock has a great feeling about it. Deacon’s got me wanting things I rarely dare to want. Things that only ever happen in my dreams.
I take off my jacket and shirt, aware he’s also sneaking glances at me as we both shed our wet clothes. I’m edging closer to him with each piece of clothing that comes off. When we’re down to our underwear and socks, both of us reach for the socks first.
I grin to myself. Mine are off before his, so I catch his face when he stands and press my mouth to his. “You’re fucking delicious.”
His tongue glides into my mouth, seeking. I give mine back to him, moving close enough to consume whatever I can reach.
His hands roam my body, starting at my arms, moving down my back, my ass, my outer thighs. His touch is warm and appreciative, tracing my definition and hard-earned edges.
With one hand, I align our cocks and press my body against his. He wraps his arms around me, and we kiss. Slow, groaning, wet kisses I’ve stopped trying to rush, but he is letting me lead. I’m the one to grab his ass. I’m the one to grind my hips, encouraging him to grind back.
I’m the one to pull us onto the bed, and I’m the one who rolls him onto his back to keep dry humping and kissing him. He smells like rain and lust. “Tell me what you’re into,” I say when I don’t think I can keep it PG-13 anymore without exploding in my shorts.
“Everything.”
“For example?”
“I’ve never been fucked by a CEO before. I don’t think.”
I huff. “You don’t think?”
“I don’t always ask questions.”
“Hm.” So this isn’t his first time moving fast. It’s been a while for me, though, so more information would help.
I shove his arms over his head and slide lower to kiss his chest, one nipple at a time, paying them plenty of attention as he breathes heavily beneath me.
His chest hair is doing it for me tonight, making me feel slightly worshipful.
I rock my hips, rubbing my cock over and over his.
An urge to wrap my mouth around it slams into me so hard, I have to pull off his nipple and take a deep breath.
Sucking cock isn’t exactly my brand these days. I did it plenty back in high school and college, but since I started working in Silicon Valley, I turned into more of a throat fucker. Sucking dick is almost always something I imagine doing when I find someone attractive, but it hardly ever happens.
“I think I want your cock in my mouth.”
“Yeah?” Deacon asks.
“Yeah.”
“I’m not gonna say no if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
It was. “Don’t come,” I say.
He laughs softly. “That’s the line?”
“Not a line,” I tell him as I peel back the waistband of his boxer briefs. “I just don’t want you to come yet.”
“Then don’t be good at it.”
“I’ll do my worst.”
To my surprise, he runs a hand through my hair, pushing it back enough to look me in the eyes. “I’ll pull you off if I get close.”
I nod, appreciating his sincerity, and wrap my mouth around the fat, salty head of his leaking cock.
Both of us moan—loud and simultaneous. As I slide my mouth down his generous length, he tugs on my scalp. “One second,” he says when I pop off.
“Please,” I hear myself saying. He tastes and smells so fucking good. I need more.
He holds me firm for a few deep breaths, then loosens his grip, and I immediately dive back down on his dick. With an enthusiasm so reckless and all over the place, I make loud slurping noises as I suck him.
It takes more than a few passes to get him into my throat—I’m out of practice—but it’s so fucking worth it when I’m able to scent the musk of him at the root. Fuck yes, this is good. Exactly the distraction I need.
He tolerates my deep throating for a few seconds before my head gets yanked back again, and I gasp, drool covering my chin.
I wipe it with my forearm and look him over. His chest, neck and cheeks are flushed. His swollen lips are parted, panting. His eyes are low-lashed and hooded. We need to fuck. Now.