Chapter 5 #2
We were talking and laughing all the way up to my room, and as soon as we got inside, I pressed him up against the wall and kissed him senseless, devouring his mouth and grinding my hardening cock against his.
He didn’t seem to have any complaints. He kissed me back and teased me through my wet swim trunks.
I even have a hickey near my Adam’s apple from where he got carried away before we stumbled our way into the bathroom.
It was as soon as we stepped into the shower together that he got quiet and distant.
He was like this when we were kids too. He gets completely in his own head about something and works himself up.
And, of course, I’m no smooth talker. I’ve never been good at figuring out the right things to say when he gets like this.
The dude with the pink hair from last night—I think his name is Goose—dances his way over and moves in close to my man. I bite back a growl, all kinds of possessive caveman urges rearing up inside me.
He slips an arm around Real’s waist, and he doesn’t protest, just smiles and grinds against him.
Nope. No.
I don’t care if it makes me an asshole. No one’s lips are going to be brushing against Real’s ear but mine.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” I ask, putting a hand on Real’s hip and leaning around him to address Pigeon or whatever the fuck his name is.
His bright-pink hair hangs messily over his forehead, and he quirks an eyebrow at me. “You must have me confused with someone else, stud.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you were licking some guy’s tonsils last night at the beach.”
He lets out an airy laugh. “You only kiss guys you’re committed to?
How very Amish of you.” He presses a kiss to Real’s cheek, leaving it glistening with a shimmery lip gloss, and then unwinds his arm from around his middle and moves in on another target without a moment of hesitation.
His new plaything seems happy enough to have the attention.
I snag Real by the upper arm, fully aware that I’m acting like a complete jealous prick right now, but unable to help myself as blood rushes in my ears and the word mine replays over and over again until my entire body is buzzing with it.
“What the hell was that?” he demands, stumbling after me as I wind through the bar in search of somewhere private to talk with him. I find the restroom, and it’s blessedly empty, so I yank him inside. “What—”
I cut him off with a rough kiss, pushing him up against the nearest wall and shoving my tongue between his lips. He moans into my mouth, grabbing the front of my shirt and twisting it in his grasp.
“Mine,” I growl against his lips, nipping at them and then sinking to my knees, desperate to lay some kind of claim on him.
Real gasps, sagging against the wall as I work his pants open, the hard outline of his cock pressing against the stretchy denim.
I nose at the bulge and drag my tongue over the rough fabric. “Flynn,” he gasps my name, tunneling his fingers through my hair.
“Mm,” I hum happily. I want his voice hoarse from screaming my name. I want his cock too spent to even look at anyone else, and I want the taste of his cum clinging to my lips. Mine.
I slip my fingers into the waist of his pants and underwear and tug them down just enough that his cock springs free, bouncing in front of my face. I press a hot kiss to the tip, and salty droplets of his precum paint my lips.
He grunts and thrusts his hips, bumping his cock against my mouth impatiently and then muttering a hasty “Sorry.”
I hum again and wrap my lips around his cock. He’s hot and heavy against my tongue, stretching my lips and making my own cock ache. I surge forward, taking him all the way to the back of my throat until my nose is pressed against the dark thatch of pubic hair and his balls are against my chin.
Maybe thinking I needed words earlier was my mistake.
I’ve always been more of an action type of guy.
I should stick to my strengths. I don’t know what freaked Real out or the words he needs to hear to know he’s mine, but as long as his cock is buried in my throat, there can’t be too many misunderstandings between us.
“So good,” he murmurs breathlessly, grinding his cock into my mouth and giving a low whine when I start to pull back. “Please, please, please.” His hips twitch and his muscles quiver, twisting my hair in his fingers until my scalp stings in the best way.
I fill my mouth with his cock again, taking him deep over and over, swallowing around him, and lapping at the head with every upstroke.
The door swings open, but Real’s fingers are tightening in my hair as he pants, gasps, and thrusts his hips. Unless a nuclear bomb drops, no way am I stopping now. Whoever it is can enjoy the show for all I care.
“Oh shit,” a voice mutters. I spare the barest glance, not allowing my rhythm to stutter, and I catch a glimpse of the blond twinky server backing quickly out of the restroom.
“Flynn, oh fuck, Flynn,” Real groans.
I dig my fingers into the luscious globes of his ass and suck him harder, faster, bobbing my head up and down as saliva and precum mix and drip down my chin.
His cock swells and thickens against my tongue and then starts to pulse, ropes of salty, sticky cum coating the back of my throat and filling my mouth.
I greedily lap up every drop he gives me until he starts to soften in my mouth. I release him with a pop, giving one more lick to the head of his cock. He shivers, leaning all of his weight against the wall while his knees tremble and his chest heaves with ragged breaths.
I carefully tuck his softening cock away and zip his jeans back up before getting to my feet.
Real reaches for me, and I go easily, putting my hands on the wall on either side of his head and dipping mine down for a soft press of my lips to his.
“What do you say to a walk on the beach?” I ask.