Chapter Thirty-Three #2
“Do you think Plimmerton might be... I don’t know—do you think there was something else behind that kiss?”
Sam stopped kneading a particularly stubborn knot at the base of Connor’s neck. The thought stirred an uncomfortable churning in his gut. “What, getting off on my humiliation wasn’t enough?” Then the penny dropped. “You think...?”
“I could be wrong.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“I was at his house earlier.”
“His house?”
“His mom’s house, actually, for a job. And I just got this feeling.”
“Your gaydar went off?”
Connor snorted. “No, but he seemed weirdly put out when I mentioned you.”
“How did I come up?”
“I kind of came out to him.”
Sam laughed despite himself. “So you’re just telling everyone you meet now?”
“The seal is well and truly broken.”
Sam trailed a finger down Connor’s spine. “And what did he say?”
“That’s the thing—nothing, really. It was more what he didn’t say. He just seemed sad... and scared.”
“Maybe he finally realized what a dick he was at school.”
Connor turned to look at Sam, his expression perplexed. “Maybe. But it got me thinking, as someone who had to work through a lot of ugly feelings about liking guys, what if instead of taking it out on himself—like I did—he took it out on you?”
Sam’s breath stalled, and his hands dropped to his lap.
Connor’s forehead furrowed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought him up. I’m probably completely off the mark here. And even if I’m not, that’s no excuse for how he treated you.” He took Sam’s hand and rubbed his thumb along Sam’s palm, massaging the oil into his skin.
“No, but if it is true...” Sam said haltingly. “I mean, I still hate his guts, but now I feel kind of sorry for him.”
“I know.” Connor sighed and leaned in to kiss Sam on the temple. Then his hand strayed to the hem of Sam’s T-shirt, and he tugged it upward, exposing Sam’s stomach. “Let me do you.”
“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Sam protested. “You’ve been working so hard...”
“It’s a much better plan,” Connor said with a wolfish grin. “Besides, the lavender’s making me sleepy, and I don’t want a repeat of last night.”
Sam snickered. “You’re lucky I didn’t take it personally.”
“I’m still kicking myself.”
Connor rendered Sam naked in record time and eased him onto his back on the towel Sam had laid out across the couch. He took the bottle of oil from the coffee table and squirted a generous amount into his palm. “Sorry for the sandpaper mitts. Guess it’s less of a massage and more an exfoliation.”
“Are you kidding? I love your hands,” Sam said, and he did. They were strong and capable. Connor made a living with his hands.
Connor lowered his palm until it hovered barely an inch above Sam’s navel, an almost imperceptible gesture but enough to give Sam a chance to voice his assent.
Sam prickled with anticipation. “You can touch me anywhere as much as you like.”
Connor started slow and gentle, making circles across Sam’s chest and stomach, then he slid a slippery hand lower and began to caress the sensitive skin between his thighs and behind his knees.
Sam watched as his cock rose like a charmed snake. “Now I feel bad I only did your back,” he huffed as his chest hollowed out and he was filled with a rapidly growing desire.
“Don’t,” Connor murmured, his eyes lowered as though drinking in Sam’s shimmering body.
Sam quivered as Connor used a finger to stroke his taint then curve down to circle his hole and rise again to ever so lightly fondle his balls. He wanted Connor to capture his cock, but the man seemed content to stroke and caress everywhere but.
“Is this a test?” Sam panted.
“Do you want it to be?”
“Touch my dick.” Sam almost whimpered. “Pretty please.”
Connor stopped his infuriating teasing and, blessedly, took Sam’s shaft into his warm, slick grasp.
“Oh, fuck yes...”
Connor kept his strokes firm and even, one hand on Sam’s cock, the other cupping his balls. He’d bring Sam close only to change the pace and keep him guessing. Soon, Sam was writhing, almost hyperventilating as Connor brought him to the brink.
“I’m gonna come—”
And then Sam’s stomach tensed, his hips arched, and he let out a cry, briefly leaving his body as Connor milked him, squeezing his fist to draw out every last drop. Sam collapsed back onto the couch, and Connor brought his hand to his mouth and licked it clean. Sam jolted at the sight.
So fucking hot...
“I swear that was not my intention when I suggested this,” Sam whispered when he trusted himself to speak.
Connor smiled and bent to kiss him, unhurried and sweet, as though Sam’s release had very much been his intention.
When they broke apart, Sam pulled himself up and dropped to his knees on the carpet.
Connor was already hard when Sam managed to wrangle him from his pants.
He positioned himself between Connor’s spread thighs, with his lips poised at the smooth head of his cock.
Sam looked up at him, not needing words to ask the question.
“Yes, please,” Connor said, like a boy at a birthday party offered another slice of cake.
Sam had always loved giving head. It made him feel powerful rather than submissive, able to render a man boneless with his mouth alone. It was one of the few areas where he felt a control he otherwise struggled to assert in the bedroom.
Connor had no trouble relinquishing control where Sam was concerned.
He rested one hand on the back of Sam’s head, less directive than protective, as he grew steadily harder in Sam’s mouth.
Sam moved at his own pace, working his tongue along the underside of Connor’s shaft as he brought him in and out of his mouth.
Connor wasn’t overly vocal during sex, but he made these beautiful little grunts of pleasure when he was sucked.
Sam released Connor until just the head of his cock remained wrapped in Sam’s lips.
He tongued the slit, drops of moisture bursting forth.
Connor gave a low groan, and the hand on Sam’s head clenched and released.
His quickened breath urged Sam on, and he bobbed his head, faster now, seeing Connor stiffen on the couch before him.
“Mm-hmm, getting close...” Connor said through gritted teeth. “Ugh, Sam...”
He clutched the armrest, his fingers digging into the upholstery, as though down to the last shred of restraint. Sam knew he had an unfair advantage. Connor was tired after a long day and already turned on from jerking him off.
“Fuck, you’re going to make me—”
Unable to finish his sentence, Connor finished in Sam’s mouth, and Sam drew him dry before letting Connor’s spent cock slip from his lips.
Connor slumped against the couch cushions, eyes closed, his hand still cradling the back of Sam’s head. Sam rested his cheek on the inside of Connor’s thigh and listened as his breathing slowed.
“Stay tonight?” Connor murmured, not opening his eyes. “I can call Lily.”
Sam snorted with laughter. “It’s not a playdate. I don’t need permission. Besides, my mom already knows where I am.”
Connor’s fingers combed through Sam’s hair, tickling his scalp as a lazy smile stretched across his face. “Then she knows you’re up to no good.”