Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“THIS IS NICE.” Tate shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from attacking Liam the second they entered his apartment. After spending the past few hours touching, kissing, and learning about the pretty dancer, his cock was harder than the porcelain tiles he worked with.
But a hard cock wasn’t anything new. Maybe he didn’t usually want inside someone as much as he did Liam, but he understood sexual arousal. What he didn’t understand was the fluttery feeling in his chest or the way his blood zinged with jitters as though he’d downed a pot of coffee on an empty stomach.
He didn’t want to fuck this up because he wanted it to happen again, and it hadn’t even happened yet.
That’s what he didn’t understand.
Who anticipated the next time they’d be with someone when they were already in their presence?
Saps, that’s who.
And me, apparently.
“If by nice you mean tiny, then yes, this place is very nice.” Liam dropped his keys in a silver dish on a small table by the door.
With a snort, Tate followed him into the small apartment. “Do you have to turn sideways to fit down the hallway?” He’d been side-stepping to his bedroom since he hit puberty.
“What? No. Why?”
“Then it’s not tiny.”
“Well, it’s not big by any stretch of the imagination. The hallway is only about two feet long. It leads to an itty-bitty bedroom.” He spread his slender arms with the same grace he did when dancing. Then, this is the rest—a baby kitchen and a little den.
Tate took a good look at the space. Sure, it wasn’t big, but Liam was one guy. How much space could he need? In the short time he’d lived there, Liam managed to create a homier environment than Tate’s place, and he’d lived there his whole damn life. “What I meant was you made it look nice. It’s cozy and classy.” He shrugged. “Like you.”
“Oh.” He beamed. “Thank you.” Art prints and photos of ballet dancers hung from the walls. The beige loveseat had a plush, olive-green blanket draped over one arm, with two matching pillows on each end. Then, there was the small end table with a candle and a framed photo of who he assumed was Liam and his parents.
A thick silence fell between them. Tate didn’t fit in this stylish place with this sweet, caring man with his fragrant candle. He belonged ten minutes away in the trailer park with an ashtray full of cigarette butts on the kitchen table, a mountain of empty beer cans in the trash, and mismatched dishes.
As much as he didn’t fit here, Liam wouldn’t work in Tate’s world even more. He tried to imagine the dancer in his trailer, meeting his mother, and befriending Whitney, but the vision wouldn’t come. Liam was too good for his world.
“You’re thinking awfully hard over there,” Liam said.
He stood at the mouth of the small hallway leading to his bedroom, looking like a tasty treat in those trendy yellow shorts and the white polo that clung to his fit frame. Peeling him out of the outfit would be like opening a Christmas present he’d wanted his entire life.
But it would change things. Tate couldn’t figure out how he knew that, but he did. Sex never changed shit for him in the past, but it would this time. He could feel it in his gut.
“Anything you wanna share?”
His instinct was to keep his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. Hell, he’d been perfecting that skill for most of his life. But Liam’s words from earlier came back to him.
I am and always will be a safe place for you.
So, instead of sealing his mouth shut, he swallowed his nerves and said, “I was thinking about how different our worlds are.”
Liam tilted his head. “Ahh, and probably talking yourself out of this thing we have going on in the process.”
“Maybe.” Why did the man have to be so damn attractive? Tate’s dick felt crushed in its denim prison.
Liam propped his hands on his trim hips. “Well, I want to come.”
Tate sucked in a breath. Jesus, he wanted that too. Fuck, he had no choice but to press the heel of his hand over his cock. The way Liam’s eyes darkened in approval as he licked his lips had Tate groaning. Damn tease.
“I want you to be the one to make me come. Preferably, with that thick cock pounding my prostate. So maybe you could save your freakout until after that.”
Tate chuckled. “Fuck, you’re mean.”
Liam shrugged, and a smirk curved those pouty lips. “I’m gonna head on in there,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder toward the only bedroom. “I’d say take your time thinking about what you want to do, but I’m gonna get started. So don’t take too long.” He winked, spun on a toe like the perfect ballet dancer he was, then started down the hall. His pert ass mocked Tate with every swish of his hips. Before he disappeared into his room, he glanced over his shoulder. “There’s one very important way our worlds align, and I’m dying to prove it to you, so choose wisely.”
Tate’s head dropped back, and he groaned at the white ceiling.
No way was he strong enough to resist an offer like that. Liam won. He knew he’d won, the little minx.
So much could go wrong.
What if someone saw his car? He’d parked behind the building as Liam instructed with promises that no one else parked back there, but shit happened.
What if Randy saw through the lies when he asked about the woman he took on a picnic and then spent the night with?
What if Liam decided he was a lost cause and dropped him?
It would hurt.
Shit. It would hurt if Liam ended this. How on earth had that happened? It didn’t matter how. It was too late—he’d crossed an invisible line—and there was no going back. He might as well reap the rewards before it all went to shit.
He forced himself to stroll instead of charging into the bedroom like a raging bull. The fifteen seconds it took to get there felt like eons. Walking wasn’t easy with a lead pipe between his legs and a heart beating so fast and hard he could feel it in his neck.
Breathing ragged, he stepped into the room and nearly swallowed his tongue.
“Jesus Christ.”
Liam lay in the center of his queen-size bed completely naked, with his sculpted legs spread and his stiff cock in his fist. All Tate could see was the red, angry tip peeking out of that tight grip. The grin on Liam’s face was pure sex.
“I see you made the right choice.” His voice dropped two octaves, coming out husky and full of need.
“I think so,” Tate responded through a closed throat.
“Oh, I know so. You have no idea what my ass can do, Tate, but you’re about to find out.”
“Fuck, Luxe.” That confidence was a damn aphrodisiac. “You’re beautiful.” And he was. Incredibly so. All rolling hills and valleys of muscle wrapped in creamy smooth skin. Liam had minimal body hair and no tattoos or piercings. A small scar marred his right shoulder as though he’d had surgery in the past, but it was the only blemish on an otherwise perfect specimen. His own body was riddled with scars from a rough, unsupervised youth and the few tattoos he’d gotten over the years. If he still had any functioning brain cells after this, he’d ask about the shoulder, but most likely, he’d be too drunk on Liam to remember.
“Get naked,” the gorgeous object of his inspection said.
Tate didn’t have to be told twice. As his hands went to his fly, realization slammed into him with the force of a Mack truck, and his knees wobbled. This was the first time he’d been with a fully naked man. It was the first time he’d be fucking in a bed. It was the first time he didn’t have to rush. He could take his time exploring every inch of Liam. He could draw it out until the man begged for release, begged for Tate’s cock. He could shout and demand Liam put a voice to every delicious sensation Tate wrung from him.
His uncertainty fled. He didn’t have enough blood to fuel his brain and cock at the same time, and right now, all of it was charging down south. He toed off his sneakers, stepping onto the soft carpet. As he unzipped his jeans, he moved to the edge of the bed for a better view of the sexy man pleasuring himself.
Liam’s hand stilled. He propped himself up on one elbow. “Keep going,” he whispered, staring as though enraptured by the strip show.
Tate hooked his thumbs in the side of his jeans and briefs together, pushing them down. A harsh sound hissed from his lungs when the material scraped over his dick.
As his clothes hit the floor, his cock flopped forward, heavy and leaking without being touched.
“Damn,” Liam said on an exhale. “That is going to feel so good inside me.”
“About as good as your ass will feel strangling it, I bet.”
“Yes. Take your shirt off. You look hot as fuck with it on, but I’m over it.”
Chuckling, Tate crossed his arms at his waist and hauled the Henley over his head. “Demanding, aren’t you?”
“Desperate,” Liam responded.
“Christ.” Tate gripped his cock and pumped his fist twice, using his precum to lube the way.
“Your body is incredible.” They watched each other for a moment, stroking their cocks and drinking in the sight of each other, aroused and flushed with need.
“Please come here. I’ve got supplies.” A few condoms and a tube of lube lay next to Liam on the simple navy comforter. “Don’t make me wait.”
Tate smirked. Oh, he was going to wait, all right.
“Oh, shit, that’s a wicked grin.”
Tate placed a knee on the edge of the bed, still playing with himself. “Let go of your cock. Hands up and under the pillow.”
Liam’s eyes flared. “Oh God.”
“Do it, Luxe.” As he spoke, he crawled up the bed over Liam’s body. His cock, which pointed straight out, trailed a line of precum up Liam’s flat stomach.
They both cursed.
“You’re gonna be bossy as hell, aren’t you?” Liam whispered, gazing up at him.
Tate licked a stripe up the side of his neck, stopping at Liam’s ear. He tasted like heaven on earth. “Fuck yes, I am. Now put your fucking hands under the pillow, and don’t you dare move them.”
“You’re going to torture me, aren’t you?”
“That’s the plan.” Little did he know, Tate would be torturing himself just as much. “Just think of how hard you’ll come by the time I’m done with you.”
Liam groaned but did as Tate commanded, shoving his hands under the pillow beneath his head. This position put him on full display for whatever Tate could dream up—and he’d been dreaming of this for years. Those dreams had intensified since he’d met Liam.
His hands shook as he placed them on Liam’s torso, but thankfully, the other man didn’t call him out on it. “Your skin is so soft,” he said as he stroked up and down Liam’s ribs.
“Thank you. I do try.”
That had him chuckling. As his fingers explored, he let his lips have their way with Liam’s neck. Liam turned his head, allowing Tate full access. He licked and sucked small kisses all over the warm skin. Within seconds, Liam’s breathing increased, and he shifted beneath the touch.
Tate slid his hands up, brushing his thumbs over Liam’s puckered nipples. The man beneath him jerked at the contact and spat out a curse. He lifted his head and did it again with similar results. “You like that. Your nipples are sensitive?”
“Yes. I love to be touched. Anywhere. Everywhere. Do it again.”
This time, when he pinched Liam’s nipples, he was rewarded with a harsh cry. He kissed down Liam’s sternum, pausing to lick the nipples he’d played with. The moans and whimpers he drew from his partner satisfied him in a novel and consuming way. Never had he cared what his hookups thought or felt as long as they got off. And they always did, so mission accomplished.
Tonight’s assignment was much more involved than giving one orgasm. He only hoped he could hold out long enough to make this the most epic fuck of Liam’s life.
“Your hands feel incredible.”
Tate smiled against Liam’s skin. “You mentioned that last time.”
“I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
He trailed down Liam’s flat stomach, pausing to rim his belly button. It made Liam squeak and then giggle. The muscles in his stomach twitched under Tate’s tongue. He tasted so damn good. Warm, a little salty, alive. He’d lick every inch of the man if he could and still want more.
When he reached Liam’s jutting hip bones, he nipped the taut skin. His hands continued to play as he explored with his lips and tongue. Occasionally, the briny taste of his own precum hit his senses as he lapped at Liam’s torso.
“Tate…” Liam panted and squirmed but kept his hands in place. “I’m gonna rip this fucking pillow in half. I want to touch you too. Please let me touch you.”
He lifted his head, meeting Liam’s desperate gaze. The man’s pupils had blown wide. His bottom lip had indents from his teeth, and his deep pink nipples jutted out.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Let me have my fun. I’ve never…”
Understanding dawned in Liam’s wide eyes, and he nodded. “Just don’t blame me if I blow before you get inside me. You’re driving me out of my mind. I love this, Tate. Being with you like this. It’s more than I thought it would be.”
For him too. And that was the problem. But instead of sharing those fears, he just whispered, “Me too,” which wasn’t a lie.
He bypassed Liam’s cock, chuckling at the growled protest, and made his way down one sleek leg. He sucked a hickey onto Liam’s inner thigh, licked the back of his knee until he threatened violence, and nibbled his way down the man’s calf. Liam’s head thrashed back and forth as he babbled nonsense and every few seconds, his hips jutted off the bed, searching for relief.
Not yet.
Done exploring one long, sexy dancer’s leg, he went after the other with the same treatment. This time, he ran the flat of his tongue up Liam’s inner thigh so close to his erection, it brushed across Tate’s cheek.
“Oh God, please fucking suck me. I’m dying.” His body was flushed and dewy with sweat. He couldn’t stay still, writhing on the bed as though hooked to live wires. His biceps bulged with the force of trying to tear the pillow to shreds.
So fucking hot.
“Please, Tate.” Liam’s body arched. “Please suck me or fuck me. Do something. I can’t take it anymore.” He’d been reduced to whining and begging.
Gorgeous.
Tate’s balls hung so heavy and full they ached like hell. He had no right to complain, considering the way he’d been tormenting Liam, but he’d been fucking with his own control as well.
And it wouldn’t last much longer.
“Roll over,” he growled. “Up on all fours. Let me see your pretty hole.”
“Oh, yes, finally,” Liam whispered as he scrambled onto his hands and knees faster than should have been possible.
Tate’s focus immediately reached for the firm backside jutting out at him. He wanted to spend hours doing everything he could dream up to that incredible ass. But damn, if his own cock wouldn’t hold out that long, and he’d rather die than come without being surrounded by Liam’s blistering heat.
He gripped the round cheeks and pushed his hands apart, spreading Liam’s ass wide for his viewing pleasure. In the center was the pink, tight hole he’d fantasized about for days.
“Goddamn, that’s a pretty sight,” he whispered.
“Admire it later,” Liam said, breathless. “Hell, I’ll send you a framed picture you can stare at all fucking day. Right now, you need to lube up and get something inside me before I take matters into my own hands.”
His cock twitched as though trying to obey Liam’s command.
Who knew a pretty, elegant ballet dancer could have such a filthy mouth?