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I sat sideways on the sofa so my knees were kind of resting near his thighs, and I ignored my hard-on and the ache in my balls. And we watched
Dr. Who
.
Never in a million years would I have thought that'd be something I'd ever do.
Not that I remember much of what I saw. I was too
busy wishing my dick was free from my jeans. I shifted in my seat, trying to find the most comfortable spot but realized sitting so close to him, our legs still touching, didn't exactly help.
"Are you okay?" Logan asked. He had his glasses back on. "You seem a little distracted."
"I'm fine," I lied. I picked up my empty water bottle. "Though I could use another drink."
"Oh, sure," he said, getting up quickly and heading for the kitchen.
Not having any clue what Dr. Who was up to, I
followed him. "Oh," I said, looking at the dining table. "I completely forgot about my accounts! Should we do that now?"
Logan smiled at me. "Uh, no, it's okay. I'll do them."
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"We could do them now," I said, looking outside to the darkening sky. "It's not that late."
"No, really," he insisted. "I can take some of it with me tomorrow when I go to the bookstore. It's usually quiet."
"Oh," I said with an understanding nod. "Am I really that bad at keeping books?"
Logan laughed and handed me another bottle of
water. "No…" Then he bit his lip and shrugged. "Well, yeah, kind of."
My mouth fell open, but I laughed. "Thanks a lot!"
Logan chuckled at my expression, and I told him
comments like those would cost him dinner.
His smile turned into a smirk. "Deal."
A new episode of
Dr. Who
started, and Logan took my hand, leading me back to the sofa. Yes, he was the quiet one, the
feminine
one, as he'd called himself, but he was totally taking the lead.
And I didn't mind one little bit.
As the new episode started, a new character came
on the screen, taking me to new levels of interest in
Dr.
Who
. "Mmm, who's that?"
Logan stared at me and blinked. His tone told me he wasn't overly impressed. "Captain Jack."
"Is there something wrong with him?" I asked
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genuinely. "Because he's hot."
Logan rolled his eyes disgustedly, but his lips
fought a smile. "Everyone loves him."
"He's hotter than the Doctor."
Looking at me, Logan gasped, astounded I could
possibly say such a thing.
I laughed at him then shrugged. "What?"
"What's wrong with the Doctor?" he asked with smiling eyes.
"Absolutely nothing," I answered, leaning toward him. "As it happens, tall, lean, very smart English guys seem to be a new favorite."
"Nice save." He grinned and leaned over as though about to kiss me. But he didn't. He fisted my shirt and pulled me with him as he lay back down on the sofa until I was lying on top of him. In one movement, I was between his legs, my hips aligned with his, my face directly above his.
My eyes widened. "Logan…"
He smiled. "What? Was that too direct for you?"
"Uh, no," I said, shaking my head a little. "You just keep surprising me."
His smile faded, and then he was serious. "I don't know what it is about you," he said, biting his lip. "You're really not the type of guy I'm used to being around. But
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I'm… intrigued."
I slid my elbows alongside his face, resting the
weight of my chest on my arms. I traced my thumbs across his pale cheeks and smiled at him, pleased he was as confounded by this thing between us as I was. "I was thinking the same thing." I pecked his lips chastely. "But yes, intrigued."
"You don't seem to mind," he said, pushing his hips up into mine. He could feel how aroused I was, as much as I could feel how turned on he was. I moaned, and he smiled at me. "Mmm, didn't think so."
Then I kissed him, hard. For the second time that
day, he took his glasses off and threw them on the coffee table so he could kiss me properly. And God, this man could kiss.
I led this time, plunging my tongue into his mouth while my hips pushed him into the sofa. His hands were in my hair, down my back, over my ass, everywhere. He hooked his feet around my legs while he rocked his hips into mine.
He was everywhere—his touch, his scent, his taste, the feel of his hardened cock through his jeans, his tongue in my mouth, his long, slender fingers raking over my body…
God, my senses were on overload.
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And it still wasn't enough.
I pulled my mouth from his, only to pull my shirt
off. His eyes went wide as he took in my naked chest, my toned shoulders and muscled arms, and he licked his lips before pulling my face back to his.
This time his hands skimmed over my skin.
And it still wasn't enough.
I sat back on my haunches and pulled his vest off
first then pulled his T-shirt over his head. His pale, lean torso looked even whiter against the dark leather sofa.
There were no ripped abs, no tanned pecs like the guys I normally picked up. Logan was slender and trim with cream-colored skin.
He was… he was beautiful.
I leaned down and tasted the skin on his chest,
nipping and licking as I went. I took his nipple between my lips, and when I flicked it with my tongue, he arched upwards and moaned.
And the sound of his desire jolted straight to my
cock.
I lapped at his pale skin, gently biting his other nipple, making him gasp. His fingers dug into my hair, guiding me, luring me back up his neck. I kissed along his jaw until I found his lips, his mouth, his tongue.
Then he moaned into my mouth.
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And I was done for. I pulled back from him, only to undo the fly of my jeans and pull my engorged cock out. I was aching so fucking bad. I pumped myself a few times to ease the pressure before Logan's long, slender fingers wrapped around me. He squeezed me and pumped me.
I almost came right then.
I quickly undid the button-fly of his jeans and slid my hand under the elastic of his briefs. I wrapped my hand around his silky smooth shaft and pulled it free from his clothes.
His cock was long. Longer than mine but not as
thick. He was smooth and uncut.
It made my mouth water.
I wanted to lick him, suck him. I wanted to taste
him. But Logan soon had his other hand around his own cock and started to slide our lengths together. My cock against his, rubbing, sliding, thrusting.
My head fell forward, and I groaned. "So good. You feel so good."
He let go of his own dick and started to pump mine.
Between panted breaths, he said, "I want to watch you come."
"Oh, God." I bucked into his fist. Knowing my orgasm was close, I grabbed his cock and started to pull and squeeze.
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His eyes rolled back. "Oh, yes. Just like that." And then his hips jerked, and with his jaw clenched, he threw his head back, exposing his corded neck. His cock throbbed in my hand before spilling onto his stomach.
His whole body tensed underneath me, jerking and
writhing as his orgasm took hold of him. It was so fucking hot to watch. It was one of the most erotic things I'd ever seen.
Watching him made me come. I batted his hand off
my cock and quickly pumped myself. Pleasure exploded inside me, hurtling through every cell of my body, and my orgasm shot hot and thick onto the man beneath me.
Logan.
Fuck.
I all but collapsed on top of him, smearing our
messes between us. I tried to keep my weight off him, but I couldn't move my boneless body. His legs soon wrapped around me, his fingers were in my hair, and he was kissing my neck and shoulder—any place he could reach—while the room spun around me.
I kept thinking I should get up; I should move. And apart from being physically unable to, I just really didn't want to move, not an inch. And by the way Logan held on to me, I figured he didn't want me to either.
But eventually we had to, and it was Logan who
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moved first. "We should get cleaned up," he said.
I worried things might be a little awkward between us, considering how hot and heavy it got between us so fast. I rested my heavy head on my bent arm so I could look at his face, to see if he regretted what we'd just done.
He smiled lazily at me. "We forgot about dinner.
Are you hungry?" And my stomach growled, right on cue.
So much for awkward. Logan threw his head back and laughed, wriggling his way out from under me. "Don't move," he said with a grin. "I'll be right back."
Move? Who was he kidding? I was still so sated I
could barely lift my own arm. I did manage to tuck my dick back into my briefs, but he was soon back with a warm cloth, and after we'd cleaned up, we ordered dinner.
We finished watching
Dr. Who
while we ate. Logan explained things as we watched, and we talked and laughed until after midnight. I didn't want to leave, and I told him that. He bit his lip and told me I was welcome to stay.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I told him quietly.
I knew what his offer was implying; he wanted us in bed together. "I mean, I think it's a
great
idea," I clarified quickly. "Next time…"
He pouted playfully, so I kissed him and asked,
"Can I see you tomorrow?"
"I have to work at my sister's shop," he explained.
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"Can I call you tomorrow night?"
He smiled and nodded. "I'd like that."
I pecked his lips again at the door and smiled all the way home.
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Tim grinned at me. "Right then, who is he?"
It was too early for his shit. "Who's who?"
"Don't play dumbass with me, Brent," he said, folding his arms across his chest. "You stayed at home Friday night to watch some sci-fi drivel, and you left yesterday before lunch and didn't get home 'til God knows when. Who's the guy?"
I rolled my eyes and sipped my coffee. There was
no point in lying to him. He'd know I was lying anyway.
"Remember how I had an appointment to see the new accountant on Friday?"
"Yeah."
"Well, that's him."
Tim blinked. "That's who?"
"The guy I'm seeing."
"For your taxes?"
"No, dumbass." I rolled my eyes. Then I amended my statement. "Well, yes, for that too. But he's the one I spent yesterday with."
Tim stared at me for a long while before he blinked again. "You're seeing the bean counter?"
"Don't call him that."
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"That's what
you
were calling him!"
"That was before I met him, when I thought I was going to see some geriatric, boring old fart."
"So, he's not old?"
I shook my head. "Same age as me."
"But he's an accountant?" Tim asked again. "As in not the athletic meat-headed guys you normally bring home?"
I laughed. "No. He's not like that at all. He's quiet-spoken, British accent, glasses."
"Holy shit!" The look on Tim's face was priceless.
I laughed at him. "Don't worry. I'm just as surprised as you."
"Are you going to see him again?"
I nodded. "I sure hope so."
"Holy shit!"
"I know, it's weird," I admitted with a smile.
"When do I get to meet him?"
I looked at him, horrified. "I don't want to scare him!"
Tim pretended to be offended, but he really just
found it funny. He asked a few more questions, then to get the topic off me and Logan, I asked about what the guys had been up to on Friday night, if I'd missed anything.
Of course I hadn't. Same old stories, same old shit.
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Saul and Marty were good buddies, but nothing with them changed too quickly. They wondered where I was, of course—Marty in particular was more curious, as always—
and Tim
swears
he didn't tell them I was being a loser at home by myself, wanking over
Dr. Who
.
I rolled my eyes at him. "I didn't wank… well, not over Dr. Who."
Tim laughed. "Are you seeing him today?"
"No, but I'll give him a call tonight."
* * * *
I did call him later that night, and we chatted for over an hour. And we did the same on Monday and
Tuesday nights too. Talking with him was so easy. We talked about our friends, work, and what had been going on in the world.
Though it was not usually something I talk about
much, I told him how I lived with my grandma for most of my teenage years until she passed away and I moved in with Tim. He didn't ask any questions, thankfully, and then he told me a little of his hometown in England and how he'd moved to the States with his parents and sister.