10. Tate #2
I walk off in front of him, pushing past him to go into the locker room.
Roman follows me in, walking over to the showers, where I’m already standing in a stall with the spray of the shower getting hot.
I strip naked, and he looks over the short, tile wall that separates my stall from his.
He’s tall enough that the wall only goes up to the bottom of his chest.
He looks down, getting a straight line of vision to my cock.
“We will go for one hour tomorrow night,” he tells me.
I exhale.
Good.
Once we’re at the Fall Lantern Fair, Roman will have fun, and I’ll be able to convince him to stay way longer than an hour, I’m sure.
I just needed to get him to budge.
“Thank you,” I tell him. “Thought I was going to have to fight you for it.”
“You could not fight me.”
I step under the hot spray of the shower, getting my hair wet, and he does the same in his stall.
“Bullshit,” I tell him. “I know you’re bigger, but I could still take you by surprise.”
I’m shocked when I hear him puff out a laugh. It’s such a rare thing to hear, and when he does it for me, it’s my own little glimmering reward.
He’s looking over the stall divider at me, his eyes going up and down my body. “You? Take me by surprise?”
I lift an eyebrow at him. “Yes. Me. We can try later, if you want. If we spar, I could get you on the ground.”
“I don’t know why you say things like this.”
“Because it gets you to laugh, and I fucking love that.”
He reaches his hand over the wall and shoves his fingers in my wet hair, ruffling it up and then pulling away.
My cock perks up at his touch, and I don’t bother turning away.
If he wants to keep looking over here at me, I’ll let him.
I know our night in the grass was just a one-time thing, and he was just getting out aggression, forcing me to suck him off as a show of dominance… but I still want his eyes on me.
I reach for my cock and stroke it a couple of times, and when I glance back up at him, I expect him to scowl and turn away.
But he doesn’t.
His eyes linger on my dick, and it amplifies my arousal.
“I’m going to do something about this,” I say, squeezing my base hard. “Giving you fair warning, so don’t get mad at me if you’re the one staring.”
“Don’t do that here,” Roman warns.
I just keep stroking myself, slowly but firmly, holding eye contact and watching him get angry.
“I need to get off.”
He glances toward the entrance. “You’re doing that in a place where guys walk through all the time.”
“So fuck ‘em,” I say with a shrug. “They can watch.”
I lean one hand up on the wall next to me while I keep the other pumping. It’s really helping to have Roman watching me, and even though he keeps glancing around now to check for other people, his eyes always land back on my cock.
“Go faster,” he says.
I purposely slow down my strokes. His eyes flare a little wider and he says a Russian curse under his breath, suddenly taking off and looping around the shower stall.
He steps around to stare directly into my shower stall, towering over my body. His cock is soaking wet and completely hard, too, bouncing in front of him with his footsteps.
“Oh my God,” I mutter as I look at it.
He wastes no time. He closes the distance between us and turns my body around in his arms, so that I’m facing toward the wall and he’s surrounding me from behind.
He envelops me like that, covering my back, his cock pressed up against it as he roughly loops an arm over to my front.
His hand pushes my hand away.
I feel his fingers close around my dick and squeeze me firmly, and when I moan out loud at the sudden contact, he brings the other hand to clamp down over my mouth.
“Come when I say,” he utters in a low voice, right behind my ear. “Don’t draw it out just to fuck with me.”
“Mmh,” I moan against his palm, and he tightens the clasp he has on my mouth.
I look lower to see his tattooed arm pushed over my body and my cock throbs in his hand. His palm is so much bigger than mine, and rougher, too, and the sensation of it on my dick is so fucking good it should be illegal.
His cock mashes up against my lower back as he moves in sure strokes, and he starts to jut his hips forward in rhythm with his strokes. I feel the heavy slap of his sack every time it hits the cleft of my ass and I purposely push back, wanting to make damn sure he feels it, too.
His hand slides a little lower on my mouth and for a moment, I steal the opportunity to speak.
“You think you’re so much better than me at everything,” I utter, “even touching my own cock?”
“Yes,” he growls, leaning over to bite down on the top of my ear.
“Fuck,” I say too loudly, my cock pulsing in his hand.
He shoves his fingertips past my lips this time to shut me up, and suddenly my mouth is stuffed with four of his fingers, sliding over my tongue.
I’m absolutely surrounded by him.
His body, around me like a broad, warm blanket, his fist stroking me, and now part of him is inside me, too.
Fucking fuck.
God, it’s too fucking good—
I moan deeply around his fingers as my body tenses up and I know I can’t stop it now.
I start to come suddenly, all at once, before I could even see it coming. It crashes over me like a goddamn tidal wave and he holds me firmly through it, pumping my cock as I come over and over, streaking up onto the tile wall and spilling out over his fingers.
My whole body goes slack in his arms.
I came so hard I can’t even remember how to pretend to fight this.
I can’t fight it.
How good he makes me feel… how good his body feels touching mine like this.
A stray hot tear finally breaks off from my eye, and I’ve never been more glad to have the spray of the shower take it away. I’m not sad. Not even close. I just feel so much, and the rush of pleasure after I came was the most relief I’ve felt in days.
He pulls his fingers out of my mouth and I feel something close to drunk in my haze.
I turn quickly, before he can shove me away, and I face him directly, looking up at his goddamn beautiful fucking eyes.
And I lean over and kiss the skin at the center of his chest.
I suck slow, wet kisses over all of him, getting anything I can before he inevitably pulls away.
I lean my body up against his as I kiss his breastbone, and lower on his stomach, and move up to slide my tongue over one nipple, and then the other, biting down and making him groan.
I can’t stop.
And vaguely, somewhere in my mind, I register that he isn’t stopping me, either. It’s a green light. I have to keep going, because I’m suddenly filled with raw need that I have to meet.
I stand up again and wrap my arms up around his shoulders, pulling him down, and it seems like a miracle when he actually bends over and goes along with where I want him to go.
When I kiss the side of his neck I go slower.
My kisses become more chaste. Like with each kiss I’m asking him a question, and I’m standing here needing the answer so fucking badly.
I drag my lips along his jaw, droplets of water falling against my skin.
“Tate,” he murmurs, and hearing his low voice just makes me crave more.
“You feel so good,” I whisper. “Why do you have to feel so, so fucking good—”
He breaks off my words by pressing his lips to mine.
And I’m fucking gone.
The kiss is slow at first, like he can’t believe he did it, either. But then he presses further, opening his mouth on mine, and I’m flooded with warmth.
When I moan into his mouth I feel a slight shake on his body, and I realize a moment later that he’s getting himself off now too.
His hand is around his cock.
He has to come, because of this.
Because he’s kissing me.
And it feels like I’m falling into him, slowly but steadily, like he has a gravitational pull on me.
It’s only another minute before he’s coming along my stomach and chest, his mouth still locked on mine in a hungry kiss.
When he pulls away to catch his breath, I’m still in a daze, but reality starts to float back into my mind in wavering, fragmented pieces.
He steps back and rinses off, and when I see a stray streak of cum that landed along his side where the water isn’t reaching, I rub my finger over it without thinking.
He looks down at me as I stroke over his skin.
“Oh. Sorry,” I say. “I’ll stop touching you.”
He furrows his brow.
Need to know where the line is.
After he comes… he doesn’t fucking want you.
He’s silent for a few beats, his expression serious as he turns under the shower, letting the water hit that part of his skin.
But finally, he speaks.
“You feel very good to me too, Tate.”
He steps forward and kisses me again.
Slow, and steady, and nothing rushed about it. His tongue slides over mine, like he’s trying to make me a promise with his kiss, proving to me that he didn’t hate it.
His hands find their way to my waist, tugging me close as he keeps his mouth locked on mine.
His lips move lower, kissing my neck, and then he drags a hand up along my spine until his fingers tangle in my wet hair.
I always want it to be like this.
Still scared of you, and the secrets you have, so how can it feel this good to be with you?
Something tugs deep in my chest as Roman pulls off and glances up. The door to the room swings open with a squeak as a few other guys walk in.
Roman glances at me, and I wish I could decipher the expression in his eyes.
He needed me to come faster, so he made it happen, and then he needed to get off too, so he did. Physical. Simple. I just wish my mind would catch up to that fact.
I stay frozen in place, and I watch as Roman turns and steps out of my stall gracefully.
He loops around to his own shower just before the other guys round the corner, their laughter echoing on the walls, and I lean against the cold tile, pulling in a deep, shaky breath and closing my eyes.
Easy.
All I have to do is not fall for you.
Really, really fucking easy.