Styx #3
“Well…I don’t really have anywhere else to go tonight.”
“Oh.” After a long moment, he patted the bed. “Room’s paid. You can stay after I leave.”
“Works for me.” Relief flooded me. I’d have left afterward, of course, if he insisted. I preferred knowing I had a roof over my head. Maybe tomorrow I can hitch a ride into Vancouver. Something. Anything to give myself forward momentum. Otherwise, I might just get stuck in this podunk town.
I placed one knee on the bed. Then the other. Finally, I crawled my way toward him. When my hand landed on a thigh, I stopped.
The thick muscular leg flexed beneath my touch.
Bare skin. Smooth. Warm.
The room wasn’t overly heated, and the autumn nip remained beyond this cocoon we’d created. I craved that warmth.
“Are you a kisser?” Because we hadn’t really gone over the ground rules. I was good at negotiations—when I could look the person in the eye and figure out what they were and were not interested in.
“Kissing’s fine. BJs. Sex. I’m vers. Whatever you want is hunky-dory.” Again, with the super-deep voice.
Hunky-dory? Who talks like that? Probably someone older than myself. I had no sense of his age—either from his profile or his voice.
Well, he’d said thirty-seven. But guys lied about their ages all the time. For any number of reasons. Except I give my age. Twenty-three. I own that.
Still, running with the hunky-dory, I slid my hand along his thigh. I bypassed his groin and, instead, ghosted my fingers along his hipbone. Then I continued my journey upward, pressing my hand along his arm.
Biceps muscles flexed under the lightest pressure.
I feathered my fingers across his collarbone to his sternum. There, I laid my hand flat, but didn’t apply much pressure.
He placed his hand over mine.
A moment held suspended in time.
I’d fucked, and been fucked, by plenty of guys over the last eight or so years.
I’d been precocious. Pretty much from the moment I could get away with sneaking out of the house and doing it with guys, I’d been down for that.
“You okay topping?” I whispered the words because, in the dark, this thing—whatever this was—begged to be treated reverentially.
“Yes.” He slid his hand up my arm—repeating what I’d done—and his fingers lingered on my biceps. “You’re strong.”
“I work out.” Strong was such a relative term. I kept up a level of fitness because stamina on stage was important. But I didn’t haul gear like our roadies did.
Like Carver did on our last gig.
Okay, not cool to think about one guy while I was in another guy’s bed. I leaned into his touch and when he grazed his hand against my cheek, I yearned for more.
His thumb brushed my lower lip. “Kiss.” Said on a whisper.
“Hell, yes.” I leaned toward him—allowing him to guide me. Soon, our lips touched. I had the sensation of softness just before he opened his mouth. Needing no further invitation, I slid my tongue inside.
He ran his tongue along mine.
Then we began a tussle for dominance—each trying to take over the kiss. I was going to yield. Eventually. For now, I wanted to get a sense of how far he’d go. Getting fucked by random dudes could be dangerous. I’d never had a problem, so far, and sometimes that made me reckless.
His chest rumbled as he grasped the back of my neck and dragged me closer.
I went willingly. I laid myself on top of him so our skin touched everywhere.
Everywhere.
Our cocks brushed and a fire lit within me. A spark I hadn’t felt in a very long time. Not since Frank—
Not the right time to think about grief. Stay here and now.
Because Frank would still be dead tomorrow. Baxter would still have abandoned me. Carver would still be gone. I’d still be alone.
But here, now, I could have something for myself.
The guy in the dark ran his hands along my flanks, down my hips, and around to grasp my ass. He pressed up against me. “Want this. Want you.”
I gulped air as need strummed through me. “You’ve got me. How do you want me?”
“Face down.”
Nice. I didn’t really have a preference for positions. Face-to-face had certain advantages—like if I wanted to see the guy’s expressions. Since that wasn’t going to happen here, sticking my ass in the air worked just fine. I rolled off him.
He scooted toward the side of the bed.
Figuring he was grabbing the lube and a condom, I positioned myself so I was bent over and my ass was exposed.
A momentary hesitation overtook me. Is this really safe? I know nothing about him. Not that I’d had the résumé of every guy I’d ever gone to bed with. Far from it. But at least I knew what they looked like.
The mattress dipped as he positioned himself behind me.
“ A fingertip brushed my asshole, pressed in slightly, and I shivered. He murmured, “Prep?”
I chuckled. “Fuck, yeah.” Way more fun than doing it myself.
He ran his fingers from the base of my spine, up my back, to my shoulders, where he gripped firmly. “You’re tight.”
“I’ve had a shitty day.” Shitty day, shitty week, shitty month…
pretty much everything after Frank died had been horrible.
Today was supposed to end with our arrival in Vancouver.
Instead, I was in a dark hotel room with a good-smelling stranger.
I couldn’t place the scent—sort of woodsy—but damn sexy.
“Let me help.”
He massaged me, then scratched his nails down my back, and the sharp contrast made my breath hiss.
“Shh,” he whispered, those hands everywhere on my back, thighs, shoulders, ass. Fuck, that felt so good.
Ridiculously good. I don’t know if it was him, or how long it had been since I was touched, but my skin shivered and heated under his hands like they were magic.
I felt wanted, desirable, and yet safe in a way I shouldn’t have in this dark room with a stranger I’d never seen.
“You have a name?” I asked. I’d be remembering this a long time, and I didn’t want to think of him as “mystery guy.”
He hesitated so long I thought he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, “Charles. You?”
“Steven.” Fucking hated that name, but I didn’t use Styx with hookups.
He grasped my ass cheeks and squeezed. Hard. I whimpered and he muttered, “Quiet, Steven. Hush now. Just feel.”
The sound of the lube bottle snicking open reached me. When he ran his finger along my rim, I sucked in a breath. The cool of the lube quickly warmed as he swirled it over my sensitive skin.
He slid a finger inside me.
My body tensed for a moment before I reminded it to breathe. Just because I hadn’t done this for a while, didn’t mean I’d forgotten.
He added a second finger.
I adjusted.
He scissored his fingers. Opening me. Preparing me. Then he brushed my prostate.
A shudder ran through me. I knew he felt it because he stilled, then chuckled and came back harder. Until I muttered, “Keep that up, and I’m going to come.”
Another chuckle.
Then he withdrew his fingers.
“Condom,” I asked, since I couldn’t see a thing.
“Of course.” Foil crinkled.
A feeling of emptiness hollowed me out until his cock nudged my entrance. “Don’t go easy on me.” Because I really wanted to feel this tomorrow. Hell, maybe even the day after that.
Charles grasped my hips and slowly nudged his way inside me.
Slow being the key word.
I wanted more. I tried to push back against him.
He held my hips firmly and refused to pick up the pace. Gently in an inch, out an inch, then pushing back in—just a little bit farther this time.
A grunt of frustration escaped my lips.
Another sardonic chuckle from Charles. “Patience.”
I wanted to tell him I wasn’t a patient guy—more the opposite—but his solid weight, his hands, the perfect stretch of his cock breaching me stole my breath. I spread my thighs and let him have his way.
As he sank deeper into me, my body adjusted.
I loved the fullness. Just about as much as having my cock squeezed when I was inside another guy’s hole.
Hadn’t Charles said he was vers? I’d asked him to top, and he’d run with it.
Maybe you can do a repeat and you can fuck him. Since I was staying the night…
He bottomed out, deep in my ass, and groaned through gritted teeth.
I let out a breath. “So fucking good.” I clenched around him.
“Jesus.” Said on an exhalation.
“Yep.” I grinned—even though he couldn’t see. “Go…”
He smacked my ass.
I yelped.
He laughed.
Yep, I was really liking this guy.
He withdrew almost to the tip, then slammed back in.
I rocked forward and nearly hit the headboard. With no small amount of self-preservation, I braced against the damn thing. “Fuck, yeah.”
He proceeded to give me the best pounding of my life. In and out. Over and over. Pushing me higher and higher. My body sang in anticipation of each brutal thrust. Bruises were likely forming where he gripped my hips so tightly.
“Jerk yourself.” He issued the command even as he continued to slam into me.
Obeying proved a challenge as I still needed to grip the headboard.
I was nothing if not creative, though, and so I managed to continue to hold on while taking myself in hand and tugging right along with the pace he set.
I didn’t have lube, but at that moment I didn’t give a shit. Nothing wrong with a little friction.
Or a lot.
Oh well, that was a tomorrow problem. Right now, my hand on my dick set me on fire, aching, needing.
Charles grunted in time to his thrusts, the sound harsher and more ragged as he hauled us to the brink.
“Now!” Charles damn near bellowed that.
Hope there’s good soundproofing or Aaron might be paying us a visit.
That was my last coherent thought as my body climbed higher and higher.
I wanted this. Hell, I needed this. The last eighteen months had culminated in this one-night stand, and it had to be epic.
Because God only knew when I was going to get around to hooking up with anyone else.
My balls drew up, my body tensed, and I let out an almighty howl as I came. Cum spurted all over my hand and dripped through my fingers.
“Thank fuck.” Charles thrust into me twice more, then froze, shuddering. He still gripped my hips with near-iron strength.