Marie Sexton - Coda 05 - Paris A to Z (9 page)

dark flesh.
He suddenly looked down at me, and I wondered, not for the first time, if he could sense when I was watching him. He froze, half in my mouth, half out. He smiled, and then he pulled away. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the floor, pushing me toward the bed.
“We only have about forty minutes before we have to meet everybody in the lobby,” I said.
He gave me his lopsided grin. “You have superpowers in Paris you dont have in Colorado?” he asked. “Cause back home, forty minutes would be plenty.”
I laughed, and then he was all over me. It was frantic and fun, kissing and laughing together as we tried to get our clothes off. We were hindered as we always seemed to be by his boots, but Id become rather adept at unlacing them with one hand while sucking his cock. The last thing to go was my shirt, which he pulled off of me before pushing me hard, backward onto the bed.
I scooted myself toward the headboard, which was conveniently padded, upholstered in red velvet. I leaned back against it, and he pursued me on his hands and knees, my shirt still in his hands. He kissed me first, his soft hand stroking my cock, but when I reached for him, he pulled away, smiling teasingly at me. He lay down on his stomach between my legs, wedging my shirt under his groin as he did.
“You wont come on the bedspread, but youll come on my shirt?” I asked, and he grinned up at me.
“You got plenty of shirts,” he said, “but Id feel like an asshole askin for a new bedspread.”
“Were down to thirty minutes.”
“You kiddin? Ill still have time for a shower when were done.”
“Are you saying I dont have enough stamina?” I asked.
He laughed. “Im sayin were efficient.” And then his mouth closed around me. He had no problems deep-throating at all. He sucked me in all the way, until his nose was buried in my patch of hair, before he started to move up and down.
I knew immediately that he was right about the thirty minutes. With

me sucking him and using my hand on myself, I could have lasted a lot longer. But now that our positions were reversed, I had four minutes left in me, tops. For a moment I closed my eyes and simply reveled in the feeling of his warm mouth on me. I listened to his breathing, which was speeding up. I resisted the urge to put my hands on his head. Sometimes I did, and he said he didnt mind, but I was always afraid Id lose control and hold him there longer than I should. Losing control with him was a distinct possibility. If anybody in the world could give a blow job better than him, it sure as hell wasnt anybody Id ever had the pleasure of being with.
I opened my eyes and looked down at him, stretched out on his stomach in front of me. He liked to get off this way, and I certainly had no complaints. He had one hand on my stomach and one beneath him, presumably on his cock. He looked amazing—erotic and sexy as hell. The starburst tattoo between his shoulder blades was like a stamp, or a brand, as if the heavens themselves had marked him as one of their own before tossing him to Earth. His dark skin seemed exotic against the deep red of the bedspread. His narrow ass moved up and down as he jerked himself off while humping into the bed. That was one of my favorite things to see, the way he moved as he fucked himself against the bed. I couldnt help imagining what it would be like to see him fuck another man like that.
I put my hand down, brushing his hair out of the way so I could see him. He was moving faster now—both his mouth on my cock and his humping. I watched my cock disappear into his gorgeous mouth. I saw the way his hips ground deeper into the bed. I heard the desperation in his panted breath. And then….
He made a sound.
It was still so rare for him to make any noise at all, and it surprised me. It was soft, low, and guttural. Maybe it was a moan. I didnt hear it so much as I
felt
it vibrating against my cock. And the moment I felt it, I came, without quite realizing I was going to.
As soon as I started, Angelo pulled away. It wasnt that he couldnt or wouldnt let me come in his mouth. It was that he couldnt swallow while holding his breath. He buried his head in my groin as he tensed, his breath held, and I stroked myself the rest of the way there while he trembled between my legs.
We stayed that way for a while, both of us catching our breath, but he finally lifted his head and looked up at me with a smile. His breathing was almost back to normal.
“I got cum in your hair,” I said.
“Its cool,” he said. “Told you Id have time for a shower.”

W
HEN
I arrived in the lobby with Angelo, Matt, and Jared, only Jon was there waiting for us. I hated myself for the way my heart jumped into my throat at the mere sight of him. I didnt want to talk to him. I didnt want to smile and congratulate him. I wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back to our room. But the others were all walking up to him, shaking his hand, saying hello. I couldnt avoid him forever.

Matt and Jared went first, shaking his hand. Matts greeting was stiff and barely friendly, but Jareds was genuinely cheery. Angelo went next. “Congratulations, man,” Angelo said.

I could see the little bit of effort it took for Jon to act normal with Ang—I still knew him well enough to detect the rigid set of his shoulders and the stiffness to his smile. But he thanked him. And then it was my turn. I wanted to think that things wouldnt be awkward between us, and yet, how else could they be after what Id done?

“Zach,” he said.

He was looking at me with a question in his eyes, trying to decide how I was going to behave around him. Our last meeting had been less

than friendly, on my part at any rate. It took some effort to speak, but I managed to say, “Hello, Jon.”

He smiled a bit at that and stepped toward me, one arm reaching for me. He was going to hug me. It wasnt even that I objected so much as that I was thinking of Angelo and the jealousy Id seen on his face two years ago in Vegas. I didnt want to put him through that again. And so I held up my hand, stopping Jon short.

He sighed, stepping back again and shaking my hand instead. “Im glad you came,” he said. But I knew, looking in his eyes, that I had hurt him. Again. I hated to think how often in our last year together Id seen that look, always caused by something I had done. I did this time what Id done every time before: I pretended I didnt care.

Cole arrived a minute later, and we followed him out the door and down the sidewalk. We headed away from the Place Vendôme. All the buildings looked the same to me: approximately five stories, flat faced, either gray or white or cream-colored stone. They had uniform arches at street level, and in the stories above that, tall rectangular windows every few feet, one on top of the other. The streets seemed impossibly narrow, and were filled with strange, small cars. After Colorado, where just about everybody drove SUVs, I felt like I was walking around in matchboxland.

Whether from our conversation, or simply from Angelos enthusiasm, Cole seemed to have taken a personal interest in showing Angelo as much of Paris as he could. They walked ahead of us. Sometimes Cole would hook his arm in Angelos, or even take his hand as he led him from place to place. They were moving fast, in and out of shops, looking in windows, while the rest of us trailed slowly behind. They were like hummingbirds, and we were lumbering pigeons.

“Is he always like that?” I asked Jon. I regretted it immediately. I hadnt meant for it to sound like I was insulting the man he loved.

Jon didnt seem to mind. He was between Jared and I, with Matt behind us. He looked ahead of us to where Cole was trying to push some kind of scarf at Angelo, and Angelo was laughingly pushing it away. Jon smiled fondly. “Yes,” he said. “Hes always like that. Hes really pleased that you all came. I should tell you now, hes going to try to pay for everything. And I do mean
everything
. Weve set up accounts with the hotel and with several of the restaurants and shops in the area. Ill give you a list. Any of them you go to, just tell them its on the Davenport account.”

“I thought he preferred Fenton,” Jared said, and Jon grinned at him. “He does.”
It was so much like what Cole had said to me about calling Jonathan

“Jonny,” and it made me wonder what kind of relationship they had exactly that they would intentionally goad each other. “Hes going to be throwing money at you all weekend,” Jon went on. “Hell pay for anything you guys decide to do—the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, vineyard tours.” He looked at me when he said that one, and it was a painful reminder of the honeymoon trip wed planned but never taken.

“Im not sure Im comfortable with that arrangement,” Matt said.

“I know,” Jon said. “I told him you might not be, but….” He let the words trail away.
“Cant you talk him out of it?” Matt asked.
Jon and Jared burst into laughter together, and Jon shook his head. “Matt, if you can figure out how to ever make him change his mind about
anything
, you be sure to let me know.”
“Yeah,” Jared said. “Good luck with that.”
“Honestly,” Jon said, “he has plenty of money. And Im not saying that to be pompous. Im just telling you, this trip is a drop in the bucket for him. He doesnt even know how much it costs, and hed never care anyway. He likes to spend his money on people he loves.”
“He barely knows most of us,” I said.
Jon shrugged. “I guess you qualify anyway. I know its weird for those of us with normal bank accounts, but honestly, my advice is, just enjoy yourselves while youre here and let him foot the bill.”
I knew it might have made me a selfish asshole, but I didnt feel compelled to argue.
Cole finally led us into a restaurant where we were seated at a round table. Cole ordered for the entire table—in French—after which he and Jon had a seemingly good-natured debate over wine, most of which I couldnt hear. In the end, it didnt appear so much that Jon won as that Cole simply decided it wasnt worth arguing about, and Jon ordered a bottle of Pinot Grigio.
“Theres still one more person coming?” Jared asked Cole.
“Yes, but not tonight. George gets in tomorrow morning. Hes still so upset over missing the Super Bowl—”
“No kidding?” Matt said dryly, but Cole didnt seem to notice.
“Zach honey, you know George, right? Im sure hell be thrilled to have somebody here he actually knows!”
“Well,” I said, glancing at Jon, “I wasnt exactly his favorite