44. Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Four
Jordan
I watch his jaw tick with uncertainty.
His nostrils flare.
The hard set of his features.
Including his cock.
Goddamn, I’ve never wanted to see another man naked as bad as I do right now. Never wanted to touch. Never salivated over just the thought of how he might taste. Not even my dreams could have prepared me for this. For him.
For tasting his tongue and wanting more .
Mac. Mac. Mac.
It’s like that kiss has finally released some part of me that I never plan on reining back in.
“Three days,” I repeat, my voice shot.
He trembles.
I reach back and tug my shirt off one-handed.
His gaze clashes with mine, loaded and hard, and he lifts his chin defiantly. “I won’t be your first.”
I shake my head, some of my hair falling into my eyes, and start to empty my pockets.
“I’m serious,” he strains. “Find someone else.”
My tongue curls around my lip, wetting it as I tip my head. “Who says I haven’t already tried that?”
His eyes flare, then narrow. “Bullshit.”
I reach for my belt, and he watches the movement so intently that my already solid length gets harder.
The leather makes a snap when I tug it free from the loops and let it drop to the floor.
“Vida,” I murmur, stalking closer until he’s backed up against the counter. His chest pumps with his breath, his spine arching away from me, his grip on the counter’s edge so tight that I see his knuckles go white. “I’ll always choose you.”
Reaching for him, I ghost my lips over his as I work my way around the towel still clinging to his waist.
“Jordan,” he warns.
Tugging on the terrycloth, I pop free its tuck.
“ Mac ,” I growl right back and wrap my fist around his hard cock. It’s smooth to the touch, yet all solid steel beneath the soft skin.
His head tips, his eyes rolling back as a breath burst past his lips and rushes over my face.
“ Fuck ,” he grinds out to the ceiling.
I ignore the way my cock pulses and instead focus on running the pad of my thumb over the root of him, my grip solid along his length.
“You can still take it back,” he murmurs on a tremble, the cords of his neck taut. “You don’t have to do this.”
His throat bobs with a swallow that I lean in and lick.
“Yeah. I do.”
Giving him one long stroke pulls a glorious sound from deep in his chest, but when I twist my fist over his plush crown, he covers my palm in precum.
“Jordan,” he rasps out in another warning. “I won’t be able to go back if you don’t stop.”
“ Then don’t .”
A growl rips out past his lips, and he lunges.
Hands fisting my hair, his cock punches through my fist as he walks me back until it’s my ass hitting the counter hard enough that the shit behind me clatters over.
All the while, his sight sears into mine with liquid heat and enough desire to make my cock keep pulsing.
“Kiss me, Jordan,” he demands. “Stroke me. Shitfuck , just goddamn touch me .”
I grab the back of his neck and yank him in until our chests clash and his breath rushes out. “As you wish.”
Pushing off from the counter, our mouths crash together, tongues tangling as I pin him back.
His whimpers feed right down my throat, fueling me to release his neck and fumble around behind him.
When the round container hits my fingers, I sink my teeth into his bottom lip.
He hisses.
Suckling on the bite grants me another glorious groan and a punch of his hips.
“I want to see you,” he pants out, tugging on my hair to bring my sight to his. “Fuck, lemme see you.”
My chuckle is deep and dark as I free my hands and reach for my fly.
He’s panting as his head dips, watching as I pop the button. Trembling as I lower the zipper. Near vibrating when I hook a thumb in the waistband of my boxers and tug until my cock springs free and slaps right into his abs.
It leaves a trail of precum in its wake, and I shiver.
“Don’t wake me up,” he whispers, his head falling to my shoulder, his skin hot against me.
“I wouldn’t dare,” I murmur back, turning into him to press a kiss on his stubbled cheek. It tickles something deep inside me to be this close to him. This open.
Mac. Mac. Mac.
“Where’s your boundary?” he croaks out on a pant, his hands hanging in the air near my hips, fingers ticking like he’s desperate to reach out but too reserved to. I feel the ghost of them dance over my skin, and it’s enough to raise goosebumps along their path. “ Jordan .”
Do I even have one?
I answer him with a shake of my head.
The sounds that responds are shaky, but deep as his stiff grip finds my waist. His fingers dig in, his nails biting into the skin.
“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna be able to stop.”
Two fingers beneath his chin lift his darkened sight to mine. His eyes swirl, his forehead lined with the tension he’s holding back.
I lean in, my stomach clenches, and I feather my lips over his. “Then don’t stop.”
With a growl, Mac seals his lips to mine at the same time, his fist wraps us both up in its grip.
His lips capture the moan that rolls off my tongue onto his, his hand pumping, our lengths pressed together.
The feel of his skin smoothing over mine is like an electric shock, the callouses on his palm like a scratch to an itch I never knew I had. The perfect balance of rough and soft.
All man .
“Fuuuuuck, we need lube,” he murmurs, his lips migrating to my chin. My jaw. My neck.
“Lube?” Part of me stiffens. Uncertainty straightening my spine.
Will I be good at … that?
Fuck, I should have done more research. All of the porn I watched and articles I read pretty much started with shit like this. Hand jobs. BJ’s. Rimming and fingering.
Licking treats from skin.
I was fully prepared to work up to more, but skipping straight there?
Was everything I saw wrong?
“Jordan.”
“Huh?” I blink, Mac coming back into focus, and my chest pinches at the apprehension tightening his features.
“Shit, this was a bad idea.” His hold on us drops and he steps back, stark naked and tense. His sight trailing over me keeps me in place, like he’s committing the scene to memory before he turns and picks up his towel.
“Wait, Mac—”
He doesn’t stop.
I catch up to him by the couch, stopping him with a hold on his elbow. He’s still solid when he spins on me, his cock pointing straight at me.
But it’s the look on his face that pauses me.
“I can’t do this,” he chokes out, his features guarded. “Don’t ask me to do this.”
My mouth works but I’m struck.
I don’t know what to say.
Does he really think I don’t want this?
It’s all I’ve fucking thought about for months .
Does he not want this?
Mac nods, his face falling, his towel-wielding hand coming up to cover himself.
“Forget it.”