Chapter Twenty
Lucas
“I was about to start dinner. Sorry. I meant to get going earlier, but Des called,” Hunter says, while I take a moment to look around his house.
Where in mine darker tones are predominant, Hunter’s place is all light—whites, beiges, light blues.
He’s got football photos along one wall, and some of his awards, but other than that, his place is decorated the way any other house would be—vases and paintings, but with higher-end furnishings and touches.
His couch is huge, L-shaped, with a TV bigger than anyone should have hanging on the wall across from it and an oversized coffee table in front of it.
I imagine him sitting there, watching football, maybe with friends.
“No worries. I don’t expect you to cook for me. And that’s cool—I’m glad you and Desmond are still close.”
“He’s the best. You’ll have to meet him sometime and…” Hunter’s words trail off, and we both know why. I won’t be meeting Desmond. This isn’t a real relationship, and all that would do is make things more awkward. “Shit.”
“No worries,” I say again. “Want a blowjob?” Hopefully it will be the distraction he needs.
“No.”
“Well, shit. I’ve never been turned down before.”
“Don’t do that, Lucas. This isn’t about sex.”
My chest tightens like there’s a hand squeezing my lungs, but I do my best to ignore it. “Isn’t it, though?” What else could it ever be?
“I mean, yes, we’re having sex, but I also like spending time with you. It’s confusing and fucked up, but—”
“Shh.” I step forward and press my lips to his. I can’t do this with him, can’t hear him say shit like that and get visions in my head about what this is.
Hunter kisses me back, letting me ease him against the counter. His hands settle on my hips, one of mine on the back of his head as we make out like we’re starving for it, like it’s been a hundred years since either of us has felt lips on our own.
When I think the subject is properly changed, I pull back just enough to press my forehead to his. “So…what are we making for dinner?”
He smiles. “We?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? I might as well help.”
“Salmon, rice, and broccoli.”
“Or we could order pizza?” I tease.
“No.” He presses his lips to mine, the way you do with someone you’re comfortable with, someone you’re in a relationship with, and then slips around me.
“Ugh. Fine.” I pretend to be annoyed. “You’re lucky you’re hot. That’s the only reason I put up with this healthy eating.”
I try to step away, but Hunter grabs my hand, keeping me close. “Why are you so fun?” he asks, his voice soft, almost like he’s not really asking me but himself.
“You need to get out more.”
“Sometimes, with other people, I feel like every important thing about me has to do with football. It’s not their fault, really, or maybe it’s a combination, their fault and mine, but…not with you. It’s not like that with you, and I didn’t know I needed that, so thank you.”
Ellis. He’s talking about Ellis, and maybe my father.
The fist around me is getting tighter. As conflicted as I am about it, I want to be that person for Hunter. I want to be whatever he needs me to be for him.
“You don’t have anything to thank me for. Just be you, Hunt. That doesn’t have to only be one thing.”
He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even move for a long moment…and then Hunter King is kissing me again. What is this strange world I’ve found myself in?
“Come on. Let’s cook,” he says, and that’s exactly what we do. He asks about my day and the shoot and listens as I give him all the details. Hunter isn’t the kind of guy who listens passively either. He asks questions, always wanting to learn, actually caring about the things other people do.
I ask him about his day too, make sex jokes when he talks about his massage, and he pops me with a towel. We laugh and end up kissing against the counter again. Is this what he’s like in a relationship, silly and touchy-feely and playful?
Even though dinner is good, I pretend I’m miserable eating it, and he pretends not to know I’m pretending.
We wash the dishes together, and as much as I want a cigarette, I don’t go outside to smoke.
We end up on the couch I was admiring earlier, lying down, Hunter the little spoon despite being bigger than me, my arm around him.
We watch a comedy I only half pay attention to, instead focusing on the feel of him, the scent of him.
Hunter, Hunter, Hunter. He’s now the only frequency my brain hears.
When the credits start rolling, I feel the press of Hunter’s ass against my groin. At first, I think I’m imagining it, but he does it again…and again…
My hand slides up his torso. I grab his muscular pec, squeeze it while I rut against him, meeting each of his movements. Hunter King is a horny boy, and I’m living for it.
I grab his head, turn it so he’s looking at me, not letting go as I slowly drop my lips to his.
Hunter’s mouth opens, welcoming my tongue inside.
It’s a slow exploration of mouths, like neither of us is in a hurry, like what we’re doing has nothing to do with fucking or anything else other than simply kissing.
God, he’s fucking good with his mouth, good with his tongue, giving and taking, quicker before easing off and kissing lazily again.
When he rolls to his back, I move easily with him, resting on top of him, holding his face and kissing his lips, sucking his tongue, and letting him do the same with me.
Our bodies move together, groins thrusting unhurriedly.
It’s not the kind of sex I’m used to having.
It feels like something you do with someone you care about, someone you’re with for more than a good time and an orgasm, but what do I know? Maybe all of Hunter’s sex is like this.
When my lips travel down his throat, needing to taste more skin, he asks, “Will you fuck me?”
I freeze on top of him, not having expected that. I let him fuck me last night, and he said he’s vers, but still, something in my brain doesn’t compute, doesn’t believe Hunter is asking me to be inside him.
“If you’re not into it, that’s fine. I haven’t been fucked in a long time. Not since…”
I close my eyes, not wanting to think about him. Not when we’re like this.
“Fuck. That was stupid. Jesus. What’s wrong with me?” Hunter says.
“Yes,” I answer his original question. It’s not like there was ever a chance I’d say no. “Have you seen your ass? Of course I want a piece of it.”
He snickers, then kisses me again. Hunter is a kisser. I haven’t been with anyone who kisses as much as him.
“Give me a couple minutes, then meet me upstairs,” he says, and I nod, rolling off him.
I watch as he makes his way upstairs, then bang my head against the couch a few times, needing to make sure I’m not sleeping and this is really happening.
I try to slow down my breathing. My dick is softening, and I need a distraction, so I take our glasses to the kitchen and rinse them, then turn the lights out, grab my bag, and go upstairs.
I don’t know where the main bedroom is, but it doesn’t take me long to find it. Hunter is naked, coming out of the en suite, all sexy with his sculpted muscles, his thick cock hanging soft between his legs, and again, the best set of balls I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“I fucked someone,” is the first thing out of my mouth, which…I could have eased into it.
“Today?”
“Shit. No. After the blowjobs and before last night. I don’t know why I need to tell you. I probably should have last night, but—”
“You don’t owe me that,” he interrupts. “I appreciate you telling me, but I literally got off with you, then bailed and ignored you all week. You had no obligation to me.”
“I was safe. I used a rubber. I’m on PrEP and plan to get checked.”
“I’m negative. I’m checked regularly.” Hunter wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Don’t fuck anyone else, though. Not now. Not while we’re doing this. After, you can do what you want, but if we’re doing this, I don’t want anyone else to touch you.”
After. He’s confirming there will be an after, which I knew, but it doesn’t mean I like hearing it. But he’s also asking me to only be his for the time being, and while anyone else asking me for that would make me run, I won’t with him. “I’m all yours, baby,” I say cheekily.
Hunter chuckles. “And I won’t…with anyone else either.”
“Good.”
Hunter grins, then lowers to the ground. There’s not much that’s sexier than seeing Hunter King on his knees.
“I haven’t been with another guy…not ever.”
I guess since I told him something, he’s doing the same, though his feels more important. I’m not surprised he hadn’t been with a guy before Ellis since they were young, but he hasn’t in the last three years either? That is…big. And he’s choosing me.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll be good to you.”
He unbuttons and unzips my pants, tugging them and my underwear down.
Just seeing him naked and kneeling for me has me half hard.
My dick twitches when he kisses my belly, once, twice, three times.
He runs his tongue along my growing shaft, pressing his cheek against my skin, then dips lower, licking and sucking my balls, rubbing his face against them.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he says, and that about does me in. I’m fairly certain all the blood in my body is heading straight for my cock. I’m so fucking hard and needy for him already.
And as wild as it sounds, I’m nervous, nervous to fuck Hunter and what that will do to me. But God, I’m fucking dying for it.