Chapter 18 #2
“Serious?” I pull back and tilt my hand side to side. “Maybe. But not in a bad way.”
He pinches his brows together, thoughtful. “I can accept that.”
“And yours?” I ask, rubbing the line between his brows. “Is it serious? Is it bad?”
“Yeah, definitely serious.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, then takes my hand and starts kissing my fingertips.
“It changes things. But I don’t know enough to know if it’s bad or good.
” He chews on his bottom lip, and I stay quiet till his eyes meet mine again.
“Your job actually makes all of this very complicated,” he says quietly.
Damn.
There’s a part of me that wants to use my detective skills to figure out what he can’t say. And there’s another part of me that doesn’t ever want to know.
Worry fills his deep amber eyes. “You’re gonna kick me out, aren’t you?”
I shake my head as I run my hand over his pretty abs and full pecs. “I can’t. You’re too fucking perfect.”
That’s a massive oversimplification, now that he’s here, beneath me and so very wonderful. So very good.
He turns, covering my face with kisses before rolling over on top of me.
Fuck, he’s a big boy.
I wrap my legs around his waist, and we kiss, more slowly, more deeply this time. My hands go to his magnificent ass, pulling him against me in a rhythm, our cocks sliding happily against each other. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve frotted over clothes, and I’d forgotten how erotic that could be.
Obsessed with his muscular ass, I finger his waistband. “Can I…?”
“God. Please, yes.”
I slip my hand beneath his joggers, his skin smooth and velvety under my palms. My fingertips skate toward his cleft, and he stiffens, rolling back to his side.
“Sorry if that was too much,” I say, mirroring his position.
“It’s not too much, I swear.” He drops eye contact. “Actually, if you tell me you’re a strict bottom, I’m going to cry.”
“I rarely bottom.” I make a face. “It’s not my favorite at all.”
He grips his chest and lets out what I hope is a relieved sigh. “Thank God.”
“Dramatic.”
“Always.” His eyes are once again smiley half-moons before his expression shifts into something more serious. “But I am self-conscious about bottoming unprepared. I don’t enjoy…you know…”
He’s so fucking earnest, I don’t even know what to do with myself.
“Unplanned anal?” I supply.
“Yeah. That.” His eyes sparkle. “Maverick doesn’t do surprise anal.”
It’s so easy to laugh with him.
“Did you just speak about yourself in the third person?”
“I did,” he admits with a self-deprecating grin. “And I immediately regretted it.”
Rather than tease him further, I find that I want to soothe him. Make sure he understands he can trust me.
“I can appreciate both a meticulously clean asshole and occasionally needing someone so much that I don’t even fucking care.
” I gesture to his wide-eyed expression.
“But you clearly do care. A pretty big rule for me is that if it’s important to the guy bottoming, it’s important to me.
Anything that has to do with his comfort and safety. ”
Maverick’s shoulders, which had started to creep toward his ears, drop as he takes another relieved breath. Adorable.
I tug on a pretty curl. “Is there some sort of traumatizing event that made you meticulous?”
“No.” His eyes flash with amusement. “Let’s just say that when you’ve got a couple dozen gay uncles, they all have horror stories.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I was real lucky with my parents, but I think you won the fucking lottery.”
“It’s true, you know.” He bites his lower lip as he fingers my bedspread. “People think it’s the money that makes us so lucky, but that’s not true by a long shot. Even if we didn’t have a dime to our names, we’d still be the luckiest people I know.”
“I get that,” I say, relieved when Maverick’s gaze meets mine again. “I also like that your parents insist on you using your money in a way that gives back.”
“True,” he says, focused on running his fingers through my hair. “I think the thing I’m proudest of is that there are a lot of things we do—unsexy shit like roads and bridges in historically disadvantaged neighborhoods—that will never see the light of day.”
“Oh,” I tease, “so you’re not doing it just for the clicks.”
He shakes his head, his expression serious.
I like this side of him very much.
Reaching for him, I pull him back on top of me, kissing him, reveling in the sensation of his weight on top of me. When he begins to roll his hips, I flip us over so I’m controlling the movement.
“Fucking A,” he groans. “I want to feel your cock. Skin on skin, man.”
I smile. “Happy to oblige.”
We roll apart, each shuffling off our clothes, and I grab the lube.
He looks down at himself. “I just came from a workout.”
“I just came from a run.”
The musky scent of our physical exertions fills my nose, heavy and pheromone-laden. Rather than cooling the buzz between us, it ignites. We launch at each other, making out like it’s our last day on Earth.
On a breath, I look down at our bodies. Jesus, we’re beautiful together. He’s got a thick forest of hair nestling his balls, neatly trimmed. And his cock is beautiful. Darker than the rest of him, save for the pink tip slipping from his foreskin.
I make a note to introduce him to the wonders of docking at some point, but everything about this evening has felt like one big tease, and I need to fucking come. Filling my palm with lube, I take our cocks in hand, kissing him as I work us up and down.
“Lift your arm,” I command, twisting my hand right under our cockheads. Maverick’s eyes are already glazed over, but he doesn’t hesitate, draping his arm over his head, pushing his pit into my face.
Fucking hell.
He smells like deodorant, sweat, and man. I bury my face in the soft curls, grunting.
“So close,” he chokes out. I tease the sensitive skin of his pit with my nose as I tighten my grip.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, his muscles bunching and squeezing, punching his hips in alternating time with mine as we both fuck through the tight grip. My balls draw up, and he explodes across my abs. He’s still whimpering when I go over.
It’s too much, all at once. The dank, musky smell of him, the aliveness of his body under mine, the happy, horny sounds, the way he’s still fucking my closed fist.
It’s messy between us, cum, sweat, and too much lube. I grab Maverick’s meaty shoulders and rub my body against his, just because I can. He laughs.
“Let me guess: you love gym porn.”
I collapse on top of him, flushed and a little called out.
“I can see the appeal,” I finally admit.
“I’ve had lots of sex with lots of different people, and I swear men are so gross,” he says, laughing broadly.
“Whatever. You liked it. You lifted that arm like you were waiting for me to ask.”
“I was just giving a guy what he wanted.”
“Oh, is that what I am? Just some guy?”
Maverick’s eyes immediately snap to mine. “You know that’s not true. Don’t even play like that.”
Only now, post-nut, do I feel the true weight of his words.
“So if I wanted to do this with you again, maybe give you enough warning so we could share statuses and you could prepare…”
“I would be very, very interested.”
Me too. Unspoken complications and all.