Chapter Eleven
Spencer
I’d spent the last eighteen hours or so trying to convince myself that last night’s kiss hadn’t been all that I’d made it to be in my mind. That yeah, Malik was a good kisser. But it hadn’t meant anything. That we were still just going to go along as acquaintances and that the kiss meant nothing.
To either of us.
Fuck, was I ever wrong.
On all counts.
First, he’d initiated this kiss. That had to mean something. Hell, it meant everything.
Second, his lips were as soft as I remembered.
Third, where last night I’d fought to dominate the kiss, this afternoon I let him lead. He initiated this. He requested this. And, as quickly became evident, he knew what the fuck he was doing. Last night hadn’t just been a fluke.
He held my cheeks firmly. He thrust his tongue into my mouth and sought the recesses as he dominated every part of this. He pressed himself against me so I could feel his erection. Denim and khaki were no impediment.
I ran my hands down his flank, along his hips, and down to his ass. I grasped his butt cheeks and thrust against him
He moaned.
Spurred on, I squeezed his pert ass and rutted against him as he continued his assault on my mouth. This was…frenetic, frantic, and hot as fuck.
He pulled back, staring into my eyes with those wide, black pupils. The dark-brown irises were barely visible.
In the back of my mind, I registered the dullness in the room. I hadn’t turned on a lamp, and clearly those dark storm clouds had moved in. For once, thank God, my pills were working. I didn’t even have a twinge in my head.
“I want to blow you.”
My eyes widened, and I shook my head slightly—as if I could jar loose what he was saying. “You want…?”
“To get down on my knees, remove your stiff cock from your jeans, put said cock into my mouth, and blow your mind.” He offered a cheeky grin. “I’m pretty sure you’re down with that.”
I cleared my throat. “I have an employee in the other room.”
“Is she going to interrupt?”
“Probably not.” I might’ve squeaked that.
A knock came at the door. “Spencer? They’re predicting a heavy rain. You biked, right? You might want to head out.”
“Are you going?” Bonnie took the bus, but had a long walk at the end of her trek.
“Well, I was kind of hoping—”
“Go, Bonnie. Try to beat the storm. I’ll—” I cleared my throat. “See you tomorrow.”
“Great. Thanks, Spence.”
I held my breath until the front door slammed. Then I let out that breath. “That was too close for comfort. I never lock my door when I’m in here. Yes, Bonnie knocks. Blossom sometimes just barges in.”
He held my gaze. “Are you expecting her today?”
“No. She’s at another gig this afternoon. I’m not expecting anyone.”
“Should we lock the door? Just to be safe?”
“You still want—”
“To blow you? Hell fucking yes.”
I stilled. I’d assumed…well, that he wasn’t serious. And that Bonnie’s interruption had cooled his ardor.
As if reading my thoughts, he pressed his cock against mine. “You’re still interested. I’m still interested.”
“The storm…” Because I had to hold on to that last shred of sanity. Of dignity. Of self-control.
“We can throw your bike into the back of my SUV, and I’ll drive you home. Or we can just wait out the storm here.” He gestured to my couch with his chin. “I can think of lots of ways to make use of that very comfortable couch.”
An image of him bending me over the side of said couch and taking me from behind had my cock hardening even further. My breath hitched. “That feels unwise.”
He grinned. “As you know, my reputation is for making rash decisions. In truth, I do things deliberately and with contemplation—”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, chaining myself to the bridge hadn’t been fully conceived—”
I cleared my throat.
“Fine.” He scowled. “I might not have been able to enter the States if I’d been charged.”
Finally, I nodded.
“But, other than that, I consider things.”
“Last night’s council meeting?”
He scratched his lightly stubbled jaw.
Did he shave last night? This morning? How fast does his beard grow? What would that stubble feel like under my fingers?
“You’ve got the wrong impression of me.”
“I’ve only got what you’ve given me. Frankly, each of our interactions has shown you to be quick to ideas, laser-focused on execution, and piss-poor at understanding the ramifications of your actions.”
He put his hands on his hips. “And who kissed me last night? I’m thinking I’m not the only impetuous one.”
“That was—” I pressed my fingers to my kiss-swollen lips. “A mistake.”
“And just now?”
“You asked permission. Last night…” I just couldn’t continue. Instead, I let the words hang in the air.
“I promise you—like cross my heart and hope to die if I lie—that I welcomed that kiss. I could’ve said no.
I could’ve pushed you off. I could’ve asked you to back off.
You’ll note I did none of those things. Instead, I took full advantage.
And, given half a chance, I would’ve dragged you off to a secluded alley and blown you right then.
But you ran before I had a chance to say any of that.
To do anything about my body’s reaction to being near you. ”
My body’s reaction… Was that all this was?
Two guys with an itch to scratch? Because, in some ways, we had nothing in common.
The age gap, the differences in our education, our passions…
On the other hand, we had activism in common.
Even if he went about it all wrong, a small part of him must’ve believed in our cause.
We weren’t the highest profile. We didn’t have the largest budget.
Our niche was challenging regulations and bylaws.
Zoning issues and respecting treaty rights. Those weren’t sexy issues.
And yet he was here.
He stepped toward me and, after clearly telegraphing his movement, he raised his hand to press to my forehead. “What are you thinking? Given your frown, it can’t be good. Do you think you can let go of some of that vigilance? Enough so I can bring you pleasure? Because you’re wound so tight—”
I lunged toward him and fused our mouths together again.
He saw me. He really saw me. Not just the lawyer trying to run a nonprofit.
Not just the guy who always rained on his parade.
No, he saw me for who I was. He might not know the extent of my loneliness—but he understood it.
Even without words, he communicated his comprehension of my complicated life.
This time, I wrapped my arms around his neck and dragged him closer.
I fused our mouths, and when he thrust his tongue into my mouth, I welcomed it.
I didn’t need to fight for dominance. Last night had been both an expression of desire and, to my shame, anger.
Today was all about lust. About getting all I could get.
I wanted more…but I didn’t know how to ask.
My last boyfriend had always figured things out.
We’d been…boring. And that had been okay. I’d needed stability. Routine.
Now? Malik Forestal had thrown my orderly world into chaos, and I almost couldn’t regret that.
He pulled back and gazed up at me with lust-filled eyes. “You’ll let me blow you?”
“Yeah.”
“Just so you know—I don’t expect reciprocity. Whatever you’re comfortable with. This is about putting you at ease.”
“I think…maybe if I sit on the couch? I’m worried about your knees.”
He snickered. “No worries on that count. Young and strong.”
Which, for just half a moment, had me remembering that although I might be strong—in some senses—I wasn’t young anymore. Forty wasn’t over the hill…but I preferred not to kneel for extended periods of time.
He brushed his cheek against mine. “Whatever makes you most relaxed. I just want your cock inside my mouth as fast as humanly possible.”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, me too.” Sort of came out as a croak. “But I have to lock the door. I’ll do the outer one—no one has a key except Bonnie. If anyone wants in, they’ll have to ring the bell.”
“Sounds good.” He snagged his glass of water, that sat unattended on my desk, and took a long drink. “Hurry back.” He winked.
On that note, I hustled through the front office, locked the front door, and headed back to my office.
The doorbell was loud enough to be heard just about everywhere in the old house, so I didn’t worry about closing my office door—that added a layer of privacy.
When I returned, Malik was closing the blinds. “Those clouds are brutal, but no rain yet.”
“It’s coming.”
He met my gaze. “Yeah, it is. Your head?”
“I took my pills.”
“Let me know if you need to take more. Let me know if you need me to stop. And, most importantly, let me know what I can do to make you feel good.”
“Uh…just about anything?” I had no idea of his level of experience.
As a bad-boy rock star, probably a lot. But that was a newer persona.
As a violinist with the symphony? Perhaps not as much.
Why are you thinking about his previous partners?
For fuck’s sake, he’ll tell you what he is and is not comfortable doing.
Point well made. I snagged a soft blanket and put it over the rather expensive leather—a relic from Maude’s days.
The couch, if I continued to treat it well, would last for decades.
That said, the thing wasn’t nice to bare skin on sticky, humid days.
Malik chuckled. “To contain the mess? Don’t worry—I swallow.”
I gulped. “I was thinking more of my bare ass on the leather.”
“Ah, a man who considers creature comforts—I knew I liked you for some reason.”
“The couch was made by a member of a tribe in the interior. Maude sourced everything ethically. I wouldn’t make the decision to buy a leather couch today, but the cow would’ve been slaughtered anyway for food—so this is a way to ensure nothing is wasted.
” At least that’s how I justified it to myself.
My sectional at home was faux leather, and that was just fine with me.
“Now is not the time to have a discussion about whether or not you’re vegetarian, and—”
“Yes, to both.” I grasped the button on my khakis and met his gaze.
“Oh yeah. I’m very much still interested.” He palmed his cock—still erect and still contained in the confines of his jeans. “Get comfortable.”
I undid the button, lowered the zip, and then let my khakis drop. I sat on the couch and adjusted my hips so my ass was barely on the blanket. Then I palmed my cock.
He hadn’t taken his eyes off me the entire time, and he grinned wolfishly. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
My breathing shallowed as he placed himself between my spread thighs and gracefully dropped to his knees.
He was still on his knees—as he would have been had I remained standing—but this felt less awkward.
Plus, if my knees went a little weak during the orgasm he’d promised, I wasn’t going to pitch forward or backward. This just felt…more civilized.
Right up until he nudged my hand away from my shaft. He grasped the base and lowered his head.
The first touch of his tongue against my slit sent more of that electricity shooting through me.
He met my gaze again as he pulled my crown into his mouth.
Chills ran up and down my spine, and desire pooled low in my belly and lower still, in my cock. “Please.” Half whisper, half plea.
He winked. Then he drew me into his mouth and down his throat. I worried he might choke, but he clearly knew exactly what he was doing. He sucked hard, hollowing his cheeks, even as he maintained eye contact.
What does he see? My desperation? My desire? My loneliness?
All or perhaps none? Maybe he just saw a guy who really wanted a blow job. It’d been years, and I wasn’t going to think about that as he sucked me deeper. As he took my balls in his hands and lightly twisted. Gently squeezed.
Need thrummed through my veins.
Desire ricocheted through my body.
Craving overtook my reasoning.
“I’m coming.” I could barely push the words past my tight throat. My entire body was wound so tight, explosion wasn’t just possible—it was probable.
He sucked harder.
I came just as hard.