23. Viggo #2
Dex smiled. “Really? So you wouldn’t think twice if your teenage son or daughter waltzed out of the house in combat boots and a cape.”
“Not at all. I would advise them to stay away from elevators, escalators, and heavy machinery, but otherwise, have fun.” I pointed at the rough wood in his hand. “Watch the grain.”
“And what if they got teased at school? Kids can be vicious.”
I furrowed my brow threateningly. “I would pay a visit to the offending kid and their parents.”
He waved a piece of sandpaper in front of his face. “Christ, that’s kind of hot.”
“You’re very strange, Dexter.” I snatched the square of sandpaper from him and shook my head. “Always sand in the direction of the grain. Like this.”
“Got it.”
We continued working in silence for a while. Coltrane gave way to Sonny Rollins, but Dexter wasn’t humming.
“You’re worrying again.” I mumbled under my breath in Swedish, and translated, “It’s making your brain full of cheese tonight.”
He huffed as he set the sandpaper down and brushed off his palms. “My mom called today. She has questions. All I can say is, I preferred the radio silence.”
“What kind of questions?” I prodded.
Dexter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he massaged his temples. “Just thinking about her gives me a headache. It’s easier to deal with constant disappointment. At least I know what to expect there.”
I wanted to tell him not to think of her, but I was curious. “Dex…”
“She wants to visit me. In Wood Hollow. That’s code for ‘I want to judge you and see if you’re capable of parenting.’ Like I need her permission. She’s unbelievable. I mean, that takes a lot of fucking balls.”
“Or maybe she just wants to apologize in person.”
“That’s cute,” he huffed. “My mother doesn’t apologize. It’s been weeks since that debacle in Michigan, and I haven’t heard a peep from her.”
“Has she ever been to Wood Hollow?”
“Never. Not once. She’s never seen the shop, my house, doesn’t know or care about flag football. A guy could take that kind of thing personally.”
“She might not know how to say things…nicely, you know?” I pointed at my chest. “I’m guilty of this too sometimes.”
He turned his head and offered a breathtaking smile. “Yeah, but I don’t think your end goal is to take over my life.”
“As a clear-minded, capable adult in his thirties, I believe you have the final word as to how you live your life.”
“Gee, you make it all seem so simple.”
I set the tool aside and rolled my stool closer to his. “Family isn’t simple, and your mother is not the most pleasant person I’ve ever met, but she’s the one you have, so you deal with her or establish boundaries. Whatever makes sense for you and the baby.”
Dex straightened, nibbling his bottom lip as he swiveled to face me, his knees brushing my inner thighs. “This is what I mean about the cranky curmudgeon act. I don’t buy it. You’re just too good at being…very cool.”
“I never said I wasn’t cool.”
“That’s true.” He leaned his head on my shoulder and sighed. “Are we finished for the night?”
“You have a headache?”
“Just a little one. Thankfully, it’s the kind that’ll go away with a little sexual healing. And I think you owe me a BJ,” he singsonged.
I rubbed his temples and kissed his nose. “You’re a nuisance.”
“You don’t mind.”
Not even a little bit.
We cleaned up before crossing the lawn to the house. The kitchen lights were on and the pot of chili I’d made for dinner was cooling on a back burner. I reminded myself to put it in the fridge…later. I had other priorities now.
I hooked a finger in Dexter’s belt loop, pulling him to my chest. The kiss went from tentative to urgent in seconds flat, the way it always seemed to with us.
Dex morphed into an octopus, pushing me against the wall, grabbing at my T-shirt, and wrapped his leg around mine.
I captured his face and took control, sucking his tongue, licking his neck, and nipping his jaw.
I wanted to taste every inch of him, and I didn’t want to wait.
I undid his belt and zipper and lowered his jeans and boxer briefs. I squeezed his butt, chuckling as he swayed forward, no doubt in a quest for friction.
“Not so fast. I thought you wanted me to blow your mind.” I curled my fingers at his base and stroked him. “Through your dick.”
Dex dropped his head with a moan. “Ungh! Yes.”
“Where are your manners? Say please,” I teased, smacking his ass.
“Please. And hurry the fuck up. I’m dying now.”
One rough kiss later, I was on my knees, swallowing him whole.
Dex’s breath hitched as I sucked him to the root.
His hands were in my hair, and he was babbling incoherently.
“Fuck, yes. Fuck, yes…yes, yes, yes.” I tuned him out, too engrossed to come up for air.
And when I finally did, I pumped his shaft and twirled my tongue lazily, lapping up precum like a cat.
I sucked his balls too, and rubbed a saliva-slicked finger on the sensitive skin behind his sac. It drove him wild. I could feel him tense all over. I tapped his swollen cock on my bearded jaw and glanced up.
“Go on. I can take it,” I urged.
Dexter’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “I can’t. I’ll come.”
“I think that’s the point. C’mon. Use me. I’ll return the favor later.”
He squeezed his eyes shut for a beat, then grabbed my head meaningfully. I opened up and sucked like mad while Dex held me hostage, fucking my mouth with abandon. I was proud of myself for not gagging. He didn’t go easy on me. If anything, he’d taken his instructions and run with them. Use me.
“Wait. Stop. I’m gonna—”
I didn’t wait, and I certainly didn’t stop. I raked my nails along his ass and found another gear—one Dex couldn’t keep pace with. Sure enough, he faltered, nearly tearing hair from my head as he shot his load. And yes, I swallowed every drop.
I didn’t give him a chance to recover. I was on my feet, my tongue in his mouth a moment later. He whimpered, breaking the connection to stare slack-jawed in wonder.
“I…I can’t—wow.”
I chuckled, bending to pull his boxer briefs and jeans up. “Wow.”
“Your turn,” he mumbled, fumbling for my belt.
I held his wrist. “Upstairs. Trust me. The tile floor is terrible for your knees.”
We kissed all the way to my room, pausing at the bottom of the stairs, the top of the landing, and against the doorjamb. The crazed fervor of earlier had been replaced by a sweet yet insistent connection. It was as if I couldn’t not kiss him.
I separated long enough to yank Dex’s T-shirt over his head, walking him toward the bed. As his knees hit the mattress, Dex pulled me on top of him and wrapped his legs around me.
“I think you should fuck me,” he hummed softly.
“Ja?”
“Ja. I want your big Viking dick inside me.” Dex licked my mouth. “Please.”
I shivered with need and hopped off the bed to strip my clothes off, and finish undressing him. Slowly. I untied Dex’s right shoe, his left, pulled off each sock and set them on the floor before tugging his jeans and boxer briefs off, too.
Herregud, he was gorgeous. Impossibly beautiful, like a model, a fallen angel, a god.
I drank in the sight of Dex with his arms wide and his semihard cock lolling on his abdomen. That smile, though. He was taunting me, daring me to come and get him, take what I wanted…what we both wanted. I licked my lips greedily and dove for the lube and condoms in the nightstand drawer.
I climbed between Dex’s legs and pushed his knees to his chest. Desire thrummed through my body like electricity as he tapped his puckered entrance, and slid a single digit along the crease. Shit, I was dizzy now. I uncapped the lube and nudged his hand aside.
Two fingers massaging his prostate was too much. Dex moaned aloud, arching off the bed as he patted the mattress in search of the condom. I took the hint and suited up and entered him slowly.
Dex didn’t want slow. We’d done this often enough that we’d begun to learn each other’s threshold for pleasure and pain.
Whether consciously or not, Dex signaled what he wanted as soon as he’d adjusted to my weight and feel of my cock buried to the hilt inside him.
There wasn’t much nuance. A soft caress on my flank or a rough tug of my hair meant what anyone thought they might—go easy, or fuck me hard and do it now.
It was my call tonight. I didn’t want to use him; I wanted him with me every step of the way. I rolled my hips, rocking back and forth, sucking his tongue, licking his lips, thrusting gently at first, then a little harder, a little faster.
The bedsprings groaned as he pulled me in, all arms and legs, fingernails, teeth, and tongues. And the thump, thump, thump of our bodies colliding, falling, and flying.
I gasped for air and roared like a wounded animal, bucking my hips wildly. I felt the spray of his release between us and realized we’d come together. I liked that. I liked him. I liked his gorgeous body, his kind heart, and his capacity to open up…and let me in.
Me…of all people.
Sometimes he felt like a gift I couldn’t repay or reciprocate. Maybe someday I’d find a way.