Chapter Fourteen #2
Though Todd wouldn’t be home for some time, David still had the presence of mind to kick the door shut as he continued kissing his way lower toward Meredith’s shoulder.
David held him in place with one arm around his waist, Meredith’s back to his chest. There was no question he must be aware of David’s erection against his hip with the way he deliberately pressed himself back against him.
David let his other hand drop lower, fingertips sweeping across the waistband of Meredith’s jeans in wordless question.
“Yeah, please.” Meredith tried to arch up into his touch, which made it no easier for David to get his fly undone one-handed.
#90: It does not occur to him to offer any assistance.
Instead, he tried to shift around in David’s arms, accomplishing nothing except ending up in a ridiculous position with one arm twisted behind David’s neck at an awkward angle and his face hidden against his throat.
“Would you keep still,” David hissed. Meredith, of course, did not keep still, but kept squirming against him, attempting to caress his hair with one hand while the other made vague yet enthusiastic explorations everywhere within reach.
David finally managed to get a hand down the front of Meredith’s jeans, cupping his hard cock through his briefs, and found that his annoyance at being unable to properly remove his pants was quite mitigated by the way Meredith moaned obscene encouragements and thrust against his hand.
David buried his face against Meredith’s neck, stubble scratching his cheek with a pleasant sting. His next kiss ended with his teeth grazing Meredith’s earlobe, yielding him a mouthful of small silver hoops, and Meredith gasped out, “David, please—bite me—”
Seizing a handful of hair, David forced Meredith’s head to one side, exposing his throat, and bit down hard enough to bruise while his other hand continued to grasp and stroke.
Tried to, anyway, because he didn’t even have hold of him properly, but that was all it took for Meredith to cry out and arch against him before slumping back into his arms.
When Meredith at last went completely still, David let go of him and stumbled back to sink onto the edge of the bed in disbelief. What the hell had he just done? What had come over him?
If Meredith had had any sense of decency, he would have been embarrassed, at least a little. As it was, he didn’t even bother to do up his fly. Instead, with no apparent concern for the wet spot darkening the front of his briefs, he turned his rapturous gaze upon David.
“David? Can I suck your cock?”
That did absolutely nothing to help.
David passed a hand over his eyes. “You mustn’t say things like that.” Not least because he knew the correct answer was no. It needed to be no.
#91: It is not going to be no.
“Why mustn’t I?” asked Meredith innocently. “I’d like to. Can I? Please?”
In a desperate bid for more familiar footing, David fell back on habit. “Language.”
“May I?” asked Meredith.
David tried not to acknowledge the effect that hearing these words had on his already-hard cock. He was sure, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he disapproved of this. “Yes, all right, if it’ll stop you talking.”
The next thing David knew, Meredith had climbed into his lap, straddling him.
He lost no time unbuttoning David’s shirt and made a small disappointed sound at finding he had an undershirt beneath.
David hadn’t been with anyone in far too long, and even through the last layer of clothing, the sensation of Meredith’s hands wandering over his chest and down his sides overwhelmed him.
David closed his eyes and sought a distraction by grabbing Meredith’s ass. Gratified to hear the hitch in his breath, David couldn’t help but roll his hips upward, seeking more friction.
When Meredith’s fingers traced along his jaw, David’s eyes snapped open at the unexpected touch.
Their gazes met; Meredith’s held something heavy and heated.
(For an instant, David wondered what might be visible in his own, whether it betrayed how his heart was racing, how badly he ached for a far less innocent touch.)
Meredith leaned in as if for a kiss, but then, with a flash of expression that David couldn’t read, quickly turned away.
“Hey,” said David softly, “what’s the matt—oh.”
Because at that moment, Meredith slid out of David’s lap and lowered himself to kneel before him on the bare wood floor, driving that thought—and any other—from David’s mind entirely.
It did, however, occur to him to shift to a spot nearer the middle of the bed, beckoning Meredith to follow onto the softer surface of the rug.
Soon David’s trousers and boxers lay pooled around his ankles, and Meredith ran his hands up his muscular thighs, eyeing him in admiration as he edged closer between his legs.
Somehow David was still unprepared for Meredith’s hand on his cock.
It was a light touch at first, experimental, as though he were simply taking in the proportions of his thick shaft.
Meredith gently rolled his foreskin the rest of the way back, and David’s breath caught as the edge of one black-painted fingernail traced over his leaking slit.
He gave a strangled cry as Meredith leaned in and flicked the tip of his tongue against the same spot.
“God. Do that again.”
Meredith obliged, then sank down onto him, taking in as much of his length as he could.
David groaned and tipped his head back, clutched fistfuls of the blankets in an effort to stop himself from trembling all over.
His every muscle was strung taut, every nerve minutely attuned to the things Meredith was doing to him—and God, did he know what he was doing.
The pure heat, the way he swallowed around him—
David was entirely at his mercy.
Meredith sat back to look up at him with mild reproach. “You’re so big,” he said. “I don’t know if I can manage it all.”
“I’d say you’re doing all right,” David panted. All right was an understatement. (Not to mention he’d be lying if he didn’t acknowledge a certain forbidden allure in finally giving in after five years of staunch refusal to entertain the idea.)
Meredith took him into his mouth once more, and his eyes fell closed as, for once, he devoted his full attention to his task. Both his hands were on David now, one stroking the remainder of his length, the other cupping his balls, one finger pressing in just behind.
David let his hand fall to rest on Meredith’s shoulder. “Yes,” he breathed. “That’s right, love, just like that.”
At his touch, Meredith looked up. David didn’t mean to make eye contact at all, and certainly not to hold it, but for an instant, he was captivated, fascinated by the way Meredith’s eyes had gone more gray than blue, darkened to a shade reminiscent of storm clouds or winter rain, meeting his gaze so intensely that David had to look away.
Meredith gave a little moan around him, either in response to the praise or simply betraying his own enjoyment, and that was all David could take. The sensation made him shudder, the tension inside him winding tighter and tighter until it reached its breaking point.
He gripped Meredith’s shoulder hard and just had time to stammer, “I—I’m coming.” That was the last coherent thought he had as Meredith pulled back and stroked him through it, and blissful relaxation washed over him.
When David next became aware of his surroundings, Meredith was still in the same position, gazing up at him from where he rested his head against his knee.
Now finding himself imbued with a sense of indulgent goodwill, David reached down and let his knuckles brush over Meredith’s cheek. He responded with a contented hum and leaned into the touch, and David stroked his hair.
That lasted only for a time. Soon, as his higher brain functions returned, David found his mind filled with questions such as What have I done?
and Oh, God, why him? and, most pressing of all, What now?
Taking a deep breath, he suppressed his impending panic and instead forced himself to consider the practicalities.
His trousers lay crumpled on the floor, his shirt was stained embarrassingly with his own release, and, worst of all, Meredith was still there.
David had truly never been one for one-night stands and, in fact, had never had such an encounter with someone he wasn’t at least casually dating. Surely there must be an etiquette to this sort of thing.
If only he knew what it was.
To defuse the increasingly awkward silence, David found himself saying, “That was—er—thank you.” The words sounded quite wrong, and he suddenly feared that Meredith would laugh at him.
He didn’t. Instead, he offered a smile that held an uncharacteristic hint of shyness and pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of David’s knee. “Thanks for letting me.”
David stood abruptly. “You forgot to give me the speech, you know,” he remarked as he pulled his boxers back on.
Slowly, Meredith got to his feet. “David, I—”
“No, no, it’s all right,” David forestalled him. “I know it by heart: I’m not in love with you, I’ve got no plans to fall in love with you and this isn’t going to change that, and it’s all right if that means you’d rather not do anything.” Even if it was a bit late for that last part now.
Meredith frowned, and David couldn’t help cringing at himself. All the times he’d heard Meredith say it, there’d been a soft earnestness to the words that David lacked. His own version sounded callous, a mere recitation.
“So you see, it’s all right,” David said brusquely. “I know all about it. No danger of any misunderstanding there.”
“Yeah,” echoed Meredith. “ ’S all right.”
That was that. Of course it didn’t mean anything. It had been bound to happen sooner or later. Such things were an inevitability where Meredith was concerned.
“Best that we’ve gone and got it out of the way, I expect.” David managed a laugh. “I mean, really. As you said, the two of us together—could you even imagine? The very idea is absurd.”
Though Meredith had laughed when he’d said the same thing a week ago, he wasn’t laughing now. David supposed he, too, must be feeling quite unsettled by their mutual lapse in judgment.
After a silence that lasted a beat too long, Meredith gave a lopsided smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course it’d never work, would it? You and me, we’d be at each other’s throats every minute. S’pose you’ll be wanting the shower? You can go first, I’ll put the kettle on.”
“It’s twelve at night,” said David.
“Chamomile?” Meredith suggested weakly.
“Oh, all right, if you like.”
Meredith turned to go, then paused in the doorway. “David? Don’t freak out about this, okay?”
“Who’s freaking out?” demanded David. “Certainly not me.”
“David. I know you. But it’s like you said, yeah? Doesn’t mean anything.” At last the vacant grin had returned. “We’re just having fun, is all.”
“Right,” said David. “Of course. We’re on the same page there. Besides,” he pointed out, “you’re in love with somebody else, remember?”
Meredith bit his lip. “Yeah,” he said. “Course I am. Can’t forget that, can I?”
—
As David stood in the shower, he hid his face in his hands and let the hot water pour over him. It was just as Meredith had said. What had happened between them meant nothing. Just an impulsive moment of mutual stress relief, that was all.
Obviously they couldn’t do it again, but it had been, he had to admit, an experience. It assuaged any lingering curiosity, just on the chance that he might ever have wondered what it would be like.
David tried not to think about the fact that it was the best blow job he’d had in recent memory, or possibly ever.
Those storm-gray eyes staring up at him, burning into him—
He shook his head, determined to put it out of his mind. It was nothing. A minor dalliance. One more tally mark for Meredith, if he was counting.
Besides, David consoled himself, they hadn’t even kissed.