CHAPTER 20
Murphy
That cocoon of warmth you amass underneath your sheets in the night swaddles me as I fight the cognizance that’s creeping in. I can’t remember the last time I slept this well, and I don’t want it to end.
“Murph…” a voice whispers.
Something stabs the back of my thigh a few inches below my ass. Lower, I feel… feet. Other feet against my feet, rubbing anxiously.
Grunting, I blink my eyes open in the darkened room. It mustn’t be quite morning yet, but there’s a gray light casting over the wall. It’s enough for me to recognize the foreignness of my surroundings. This isn’t my room.
“Murph…” the voice whispers again. “Are you awake?”
A nose brushes against my spine, just below my shoulder blades. Jesse.
I can feel his chest pressed against my back, one of his hands tucked uncomfortably between me and his stomach. His feet shift again, and it’s now that I realize they’re sort of massaging mine.
“I am now,” I croak, every nerve ending in my body firing on alert now. He asked me a question last night. “How’s your head?”
“Fine.”
Something stabs my thigh again as he shifts. His hand slips from in between us and settles on my biceps. Fingertips drum against my skin, impatiently.
“Are you… awake, awake?” he ventures curiously.
That’s a dick stabbing my thigh. A Jesse-dick.
I should probably question his sudden interest in male-male sexcapades, but an irresponsible part of me reminds myself that we did sleep on it. Now, it’s morning. It’s morning, and Jesse’s dick-stabbing me, spooning up to me like a Snuggie. The only thing holding me back is our big, fat messed up friendship. For some reason, though, the memory of his absurd comparison between exploring and rebuilding a transmission eases my worries. I could snort at how simple it appears to him. For once, I want to embrace his confounding logic.
He’s right—we already do everything else together. And I sure as shit don’t want him ‘rebuilding transmissions’ with anyone else. Absorbing the sensation of his warmth and dick pressed against me, I feel my reserve and common sense tumble like dominoes. It has nothing to do with a rogue hope that he might fall in love with me along the way, nothing at all.
Rolling, I force his body back so I can get an arm under me, and then settle on top of him. The little gasp he lets out wafts against my lips. The hard cock pressing against my stomach is confirmation of what was prodding me. It decimates any remaining hope I had of holding back.
Am I ‘awake, awake?’ What a laugh. I’ve never been more in tune with my cognizance.
“Yeah. Someone kept fucking with me,” I reply, bracketing him in between my arms. “Did you want something?”
Blushing, he pats my sides casually and glances off to the side. “No,” he says, unconvincingly. “But if you’re awake now, we can… do something.”
The inside of his foot glides up my calf and then back down. When his teeth sink into his lower lip and his eyes return to mine, I know that’s his way of asking for what I fell asleep dreaming I heard last night. Call me greedy or cautious, but I need to hear it again.
Dipping my head to the side of his face, I let my breath ghost the skin just below his ear, hardly believing that I’m really doing it, that he’s allowing it. Nudging his lobe with the tip of my nose, I whisper, “Something like what?”
His throat undulates and his fingertips grip my sides. “Exploring?”
It comes out all throaty. I’ve never heard such a beautiful pitch to a response.
Rocking my hips into his, the outlines of our cocks slide past each other. “With these?”
His chest expands on a choppy breath. “Yeah. That… that’d be cool. If…you want?”
The way his toes are curled around the back of my leg betrays his attempt at nonchalance. A firestorm erupts in my belly, swirling through my chest. Jesse—underneath me. Hard. For me. Asking for me.
Rising on my arms, I nod like this is a business deal and not a moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life. “Alright.”
The smile that spreads across his face looks brighter than the one the day he bought Delores. I want to swim in it and let it carry me out to sea.
Unfortunately, something has to be done first. Lifting my hand, I bring it down, swatting the bandage on his forehead.
“Ouch! What the heck was that for?” he cries, rubbing the skin around it.
“That’s for going to some strangers’ room on a fucking cruise.”
“Oh, my gosh! You’re such an ass! I told you; I got out of there unscathed. I didn’t know they were looking to adopt. Okay?”
“That’s not the point, Jesse. It was stupid and unsafe. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again.”
Rolling his eyes, he lets out a guttural sound. “Fine. Yeah. I promise.” Biting his lip, his gaze tracks down my body to where our pelvises are still pressed together. “So, are we doing this or what?”
I want to eat that hungry look off his face with my mouth, but one of us has to be responsible here. “We need some ground rules first.”
“Rules?” he protests, like I’m the fun police.
“Yeah. We’ve been friends forever. I’m not going to fuck that up with this. We stop whenever you want to stop,” I inform him, hoping that he never wants to stop. But I would and I will if it comes to that. I’ll probably die from it, but I won’t make him uncomfortable. “And I’ve been gay my entire life. You haven’t. If there’s something you don’t like, you need to tell me. Alright?”
“Alright,” he concurs softly, flashing me a shy smile.
It makes him look virginal, which I know for a fact that he isn’t. At least, not regarding women. I’ve never been with a virgin, and it scares me how possessive it makes me feel me to be Jesse’s first anything with a man. The thought of paving the way over his body where no man has gone before stirs something primal in me, as if I don’t already have it bad enough.
“What about you? Do you have anything you want to add?”
Shrugging, his index finger traces the waistband of my boxer briefs. “No.”
Wow. He gave that a lot of thought.
Sighing, I feel my shoulders relax now that the business end of things is over. I’m nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous with a guy. It’s not just a guy. It’s Jesse. Jesse and I are going to… do things. Where do I even start? Lowering my head, I brush my lips over his collarbone.
“Wait!” he presses against my shoulder.
Fuck. He can’t handle it already.
“What?”
“You’re not still trying to meet someone on this cruise, are you? I mean, that’d be kind of weird if you hook up with somebody, and we’re… if we’re…” I blink at his stammering. “Well, I’d feel kind of dirty. You know?”
I think that’s his way of saying he’d be jealous, and I think I’ve wanted to hear those words for years because adoration blooms and swells around my heart. Tracing his jawline with my fingertip, I shake my head.
“No. I don’t mess around, and I get tested after I’ve been intimate with someone, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” I don’t want to freak him out with promises. I don’t even know if he knows what he wants yet, but for the moment, he wants me, and I want to keep it that way. “If I’m with you, I’m only with you until you say otherwise.”
It’s the closest thing I can think to say that doesn’t sound like, ‘my heart is yours forever.’
His mouth ticks up at the corner, and his hands smooth up my sides. “Okay. Cool. Um, I had a check-up a few months ago when I found this itchy spot on my nuts and—” He trails off, watching my face, so I take care to close my gaping mouth. “Anyway. Everything was fine. I’m good too.”
I should probably not overlook the itchy nuts comment, but all that really stuck with me was ‘a few months ago.’ He hasn’t messed around in a few months? The possessive urges inside me ramp up another five notches. Maybe Jesse isn’t as promiscuous as I thought, which makes him feel even more like mine.
Tongue darting out, he licks his lips and watches his hands as they trace across my pecs. I still can’t believe he’s looking at me like that, all hungry and eager.
Burying my face in his neck, I breathe in his scent and send up a silent prayer. It feels like I’m skating on a pond of thin ice, but it’s still the only place I want to be, even if I fall through and freeze to death.
Tracing the cord in his neck with my tongue, I sigh when his hips wriggle beneath me, wanting. Grinding back, I grip his hip, holding him in place and reveling in the feel of our friction.
“Pull me out,” I whisper against his pulse.
His sweaty fingers fumble with my waistband, slipping inside. They hesitate for a second, but then wrap around me. It steals all my air. Jesse—touching my cock. I have to remind myself to breathe.
“Now you,” I rasp.
I want to watch his every reaction but am too afraid to look at his face and shatter his curiosity as he fumbles to free himself. When our cocks meet, I shiver. Jesse’s sharp intake of breath tells me he’s enjoying the greeting, too. Reaching over to the nightstand, I scramble with a shaky hand to retrieve my lube from my toiletry bag.
“Give me your hand.”
When he holds out his palm, I dribble the liquid into it, and then toss the bottle on the mattress. Peering down between us, I line us up and then whisper, “Hold us together.”
The look of wonder in his eyes, the way his pupils dilate in recognition of what I’m suggesting, is just one more turn on. With laser focus, he wraps his hand around us and gasps. His grip is loose, and it’s killing me not to move, but I don’t want to rush him. With labored breath, he just stares at the sight of us enclosed in his hand.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” A disbelieving puff of air ghosts past his lips. I want to kiss them so badly, but don’t know if that level of intimacy is in his exploration plan. “It feels… strange.”
“Good strange or bad strange?”
Swallowing, his gaze flicks to mine. “Good? I… never thought this would feel so good.”
“Wait till you start stroking them.”
His eyes widen like the idea shocked him, but then he glances down and his hand moves. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from groaning as his grip bumps over the ridge of my cockhead.
“Oh, shit,” he rasps in approval, palming my back with his other hand.
Dipping my head, I nuzzle his throat and trace a circle with my thumb over the side of his hip. I’ve seen his hips thousands of times, but now I’m touching the bare skin of one of them. It’s unreal and blows my risqué fantasies out of the water.
“Tighter,” I murmur against his neck. “I know you jerk harder than that.”
He listens, accepting my challenge. I don’t know if it’s his competitive streak, but I like that he listens, and I like the results of him listening.
His little grunts vibrate against my lips as he finds a rhythm. I can feel his hips kicking upward into his grip, seeking more. I’m glad I’m not the only one spiraling. I want to see him undone, undone because of me—because of us.
Huffing, he stills. “It’s not enough. I need… more.”
“Grip us tighter. You won’t break my dick.”
“I’m not worried about your dick. This is my bad wrist. Maybe it’s only equipped for one cock,” he gripes, sounding pained in more ways than one.
For fuck’s sake. If he chooses right now to start bitching about that time he broke his wrist when we were twelve, I’m going to jerk myself off onto his stomach with no regrets. It’s been eighteen years, and I’ve still not heard the end of it. I told him not to ride his bike down that ravine.
Pressing my forehead to his, I reach between us. “You’re such a whiner.”
I wrap my hand around his and squeeze, killing whatever rebuttal was on his lips. His mouth falls open and stays that way as I guide our strokes. Morbid satisfaction courses through me. Someone just forgot about the world’s most tragic wrist injury.
“Better?” I croon, stroking in time with his eager thrusts.
“Yeah. Shit, that’s amazing.”
We fill his tiny cabin with heady breaths and groans. The mattress is shifting so much, I don’t know if it’s from us or if the ship is still rocking.
I feel his open mouth press against my shoulder. His fingers are digging into my back so hard, I think there’ll be five little bruises later. He’s close. I can feel it in the tension of his body, in the solidity of his balls each time they brush against mine.
“Did… did you come?” he asks between gulps. “It’s so wet. Wetter than before.”
Oh, Jesse. Crushing my lips against the side of his face is just an excuse to taste his skin.
“It’s you. You’re leaking all over me.” Moving to his ear, I whisper, “So fucking filthy.”
“I… am not.”
His hips falter, and he sucks in a breath. Liar. Such a damn liar.
“Are too. Is there even enough left to come all over my cock?” I dare just before I capture the shell of his ear with my teeth.
The wail he lets out is so loud it startles me. Head jerking back, his cock pulses in my hand. That face, completely helpless to his arousal, snaps whatever thread in me that was holding back.
“Yeah! Give me all of it,” I growl.
Pouncing on his neck, I suck at the engorged vein there like a vampire. My hand working overtime, I batter my grip like it’s my mission in life. Jesse’s broken moans, his nails digging into my shoulder; they feed me. I come so hard I see spots behind my eyelids.
I realize, too late, collapsing onto him may be too much. It presses our saturated stomachs together, but I can’t move yet. Nor do I want to, not while he’s still clinging to me.
“S-sorry, I… I made a mess,” he pants sometime later.
“Trade secret. No one cares,” I mumble into his neck.
When he doesn’t respond, my afterglow starts disintegrating. Shit. I really should get off him. He said exploring, not… post-coital whatever this is.
Rising on my elbows, I roll onto my back. We take turns staring at our stomachs. He makes to get off the bed, and I go stiff. Maybe we should have had a more in-depth conversation about what he thought exploring meant. Maybe I should have left last night and taken a cold shower. He rolls back, though, producing a shirt from where I assume he left it on the floor.
I watch in a daze as he wipes himself clean. I can see everything now, the morning light filtering uninhibitedly through his cabin window. He’s exquisite, even flaccid and sloppy. I can hardly believe I get to be an audience to this personal ritual.
Handing me his shirt, he holds the part he used crumpled in his hand; an offering. I nod a silent thank you, still too terrified to break the silence. I can feel him watching me as I wipe off my stomach and my cock.
Sliding my boxer briefs up, I tuck myself away and lay my head back on the pillow. What now? What is he thinking? He’s never been good with baring his emotions when cornered. You have to pry that shit out of him with a crowbar. I wait as long as I can, telling myself the minutes passing are more likely only seconds. I can’t take the silence anymore, but I don’t have the nerve to hear his feedback yet, so I’m once again reduced to small talk.
“I think we’re docking for the Fire Island day trip today. Maybe we should shower and get off the ship for a while.”
“Yeah. That sounds good. I’m kind of sick of having sea legs.”
The only watercraft Jesse’s ever been on is my Jon boat. It makes his effort of following me here seem even more touching. That has to be the sex haze telling me what I want to think. He said ‘exploring,’ not falling in love.
“I’ll, uh, meet you back down here then?” I suggest, sitting up.
A hand clamps around my biceps, tugging me back down. “Wait. You’re going now?”
“I kind of stink. I came from the gym yesterday after your S.O.S.”
Nose twitching, he sniffs, his face mere inches from mine. “All I smell is Murph. I guess it wasn’t much of a workout.”
His hand is still on my arm, nearly burning my skin. That playful smile of his has my palms sweating like a nervous teenager again.
“Well, I think we’ll both want to bathe, eventually. I’ll still smell like me, though. I promise.”
Biting his lip, he throws his leg over mine and toys with the hair on my chest. “Yeah, but how about we wait for the bathing part until… after?”
“After?”
“‘Round 2?’” he asks hopefully.