Not His Kiss to Take (21 page)

Reaching down, Evan grabbed a thick handful of blond hair and turned Jamie’s head to the side, toward his groin. With his other hand, he pushed his painfully rigid cock down so the swollen, dusky head butted Jamie’s full bottom lip. “Suck my cock.”

Shuddering, Jamie parted his wet lips. His eyes looked on, dazed. Urgent need consumed Evan’s remaining restraint, and he shoved his cock into Jamie’s lax mouth. The pouty lips closed around the fat head of his cock, and Jamie sucked.

Bliss.

The boy was getting good at this. They’d been practicing for almost two weeks now. “Suck harder,” he demanded. “C’mon. Take it, Jamie. Suck it good.” Awareness returned to the baby blues. Jamie hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder. “Oh yeah, that’s it.” Evan tugged the fistful of soft strands in his hand. Jamie’s eyes rolled up, and the lids fell shut. Evan moved, crookedly straddling Jamie’s upper chest in one smooth movement. “I’m gonna fuck your pretty mouth good and hard now, and then I’m gonna shoot down your throat.”

God knew what Jamie groaned—sounded suspiciously like, “Unh.”

As he crammed his length down Jamie’s throat, he yanked on his hair, dragging his head forward. Jamie twisted and turned beneath him, finding a better angle. “Yeah that’s it, baby. Take it all.” And this time, he almost did. Shocked, Evan grunted. Jamie’s eyes flicked open, dazed again with pleasure. Yeah, Jamie liked sucking his cock. Was probably getting hard again too.

So young
.

Snapping his hips, Evan plunged forward until Jamie’s nose brushed against the curls at the base of his cock.
Deep—God.
Jamie’s throat worked convulsively, accepting the battering intrusion.
Christ, he’s doing it. Taking all of me.
His balls tightened instantly. One last snap of his hips and his climax tore into him from his toes on up. Holding Jamie by the hair, he speared his shaft down into the willing throat, spilling hot and thick and endlessly until Jamie writhed and clawed at his thigh, trying desperately to breathe. Evan released him, spending the last of his load on Jamie’s face and across his swollen lips.

Coughing and panting, Jamie swallowed repeatedly and cleared his throat. His eyes flickered back and forth between open and closed as he fought for breath.

With his mussed-up hair, cum-spattered face and dazed expression, Jamie looked thoroughly debauched. Evan stayed where he was for a moment, simply appreciating the view. Appreciating everything. The satisfied young man gracing his bed, the pleasure of his company outside of bed, and the longest pain-free stretch in two years, a reprieve, a blessing from out of the blue.

Thank you
, he prayed silently, in case someone was listening.

Cuddling afterward was as good as the sex itself. Jamie always let Evan smother him without reservation, usually curling right up against his side. Keeping Jamie trapped beneath him simply because he could now, Evan spread himself out over top of him instead of sliding off to lie beside him. Then he bent his head down and lovingly licked his own cum from Jamie’s face, lingering on his plump lips and the thin, healing cut on the bottom one.

As close to a kiss as he would ever get.

Jamie would not,
could
not
, kiss him. It was
gay.

Evan had never wanted anything so badly in his life as Jamie’s kiss. But Jamie had to be the one to offer; such a precious thing could not be begged, borrowed, or stolen. It had to be
gifted
.

“
Pervert,” Jamie whispered.

“
You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Evan countered with a grin.

A soft, sweet smile curved one side of Jamie’s wet mouth. “Maybe not,” he conceded.

Laughing softly, Evan finally slid off Jamie and landed on his side. How long had it been since he’d laughed this much? Ever? Jamie’s perspective on life was so vastly different, almost as if he came from a different world, and everything about him and that new world interested Evan.

Though he denied it, Jamie courted trouble. The things he got into and then right back out of—the kid had horseshoes up his ass. Evan never had fun escapades with friends like Jamie did. He’d been too busy studying and trying to be perfect all the time. The boy swore he never meant for anything to go wrong; shit just happened to him, and skateboards weren’t actually doomsday devices capable of leveling entire cites.
Yeah, right.

While Evan had been driven by his relentless ambition, seeing nothing with his blinders on, the world had moved on without him. Jamie, without even knowing it, brought it back to him, wrapped in a shiny bow.
He makes me feel alive again. And necessary.
“Thank you, Jamie,” he whispered.

“
Huh? For what?”

“
For being here with me.”

In disbelief, Jamie snorted. “It’s me that should be thanking you. For everything you’ve done for me. Looking after me. Letting me stay here.” He snickered and added, “Putting up with me.”

“
It’s been my pleasure.”

Again, Jamie snorted, only this time humorously. “More mine, I’m thinking.”

“
Probably,” Evan agreed. On average, Evan figured Jamie had twice as many orgasms as he did. Evan wouldn’t call him insatiable, but hell, pretty soon he’d have to find a stick to beat him off with. Ah well. He was just young.

Playing with Jamie thrilled him. Christ, he couldn’t remember the last time someone, something—anything—had excited him so much. Last night, they’d started watching a movie together, some action thing Jamie had found on Netflix, which he’d actually been enjoying, and they’d been sitting on separate couches. Then somehow they’d wound up on the same couch, at opposite ends. At some point, Evan didn’t remember moving, not how or when, but they’d met in the middle. Hands had come out to play—Jamie’s first, threading through the hair on his forearm, then elsewhere as shirts got discarded.

A tactile learner, Jamie was, always touching everything.

The movie promptly got forgotten, and Jamie’d ended up sitting between Evan’s knees with his pants down and his arms twisted behind his back, secured in the crook of Evan’s elbow. With his free hand, Evan had teased him and slowly and leisurely jacked him, then palmed his balls and tugged them upward until Jamie had come all over the place. Then they’d finished the movie.

Best intermission of his life.

After the movie, in bed, because they’d slept together every night since that first night Jamie had come to him, he’d taught Jamie the fine art of sixty-nining and how to keep sucking your partner off even while you were climaxing and couldn’t think straight. Being a good student, Jamie hadn’t bitten him, not even when Evan sucked every inch of him down his throat and drilled his ass with a couple of spit-slicked fingers.

Jeez—remembering that almost made him hard again.

Shifting slightly, Evan pulled Jamie closer. When he didn’t have things on his mind, Jamie fell asleep fast, a gift of youth, and he was already halfway gone. Content and comfortable, Jamie melted into him, pressed his hot, silken body so close it was like they were one, not two. Yin to his yang.

Age had its benefits—one being wisdom enough for Evan to know how damned lucky he was to have this. Counting his lucky stars, he wrapped Jamie in his arms, tucked his head under his chin and drifted mindlessly, utterly content.

What was he going to do when Jamie left?

Would he take the whole world with him when he did?

Chapter
Eleven

After that lame-assed meditation lesson, Jamie’s mood fluctuated somewhere between flustered and annoyed. Forget that being-one-with-the-universe bullshit. Trying to think about nothing at all bored him so fast he could’ve set a new land-speed record. Evan was, naturally, a pro at finding his inner nothingness. Man needed a good kick in the balls—something, anything to wipe that stupid, serene grin right off his face.

“
Quit looking at me like that,” Jamie griped.

“
Like what?” Evan’s dopy smile didn’t falter one bit in response to his complaint.

“
Like that.”
Like you’re licking me all over.

“
I’m just looking.”

“
You’re not! You’re doing that thing with your eyes. Giving me that homo come-hither look.”

Making him even more flustered, Evan flashed him his best hundred-watt grin. “I’m doing no such thing. I’m admiring the view. And I’m kind of impressed you actually sat still for twenty minutes. In a row.”

Snorting with annoyance, Jamie kicked Evan’s big, socked foot with his own across the middle cushions of the couch. Meditating did not help him find his center, or maybe his center
was
a churning mass of discontent and he’d actually found it. The only thing meditating accomplished with any certainty was to make him horny, which made no sense whatsoever.

Now that his dick had mostly healed up, it seemed like his body (okay, dick) had gone into overdrive. Stupid thing stayed semi-hard most of the time, much to Evan’s twisted delight. Clearly it was all Dr. Depravity’s fault, him and his pervy ways. Any chance Evan got, he touched him, fondled him, roughed him up—which was fun—or generally teased the shit out of him.

All of which sucked ass tonight, because Evan wouldn’t be putting out anytime soon.

Since yesterday, he’d been on some weird good-things-come-to-those-who-wait kick. No orgasms allowed. Worse, he wanted to
talk
. Blah, blah. Normally, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Evan fascinated him and always acted like he found everything that came out of Jamie’s mouth interesting, but that was just because he was lonely and couldn’t get out. But tonight Jamie didn’t want to talk.

Evan was in a digging mood and wanted information in Jamie’s closely guarded vault of secrets.
Fuck you and your shovel, Dr. Ain’t-Puttin’-Out. You ain’t getting in. Call me Fort Knox.
Except my pants; you could probably get into those.

Evan wanted an answer to a specific question, and Jamie didn’t want to go there. Better to try to distract the man. “You could do more than admire, you know.”

“
Really?”

Now the grin turned beyond smug. More than Jamie was gonna take. “That’s it! I’m gonna go read, even if outta your eight hundred books only one of them’s any good.” For good measure, he gave the big foot another kick and flung his legs off the couch.

Still smiling, Evan slid down the couch and expertly hooked one of his legs with his foot and tripped him. The journey to the plush area carpet was quick and mostly painless except for nasty jolt to his spine when his hands connected with the unyielding surface underneath the padding. Hardwood could be so unforgiving.

“
Going somewhere?” Evan asked.

Forget escaping to his favorite kitchen reading nook with that creepy how-to-be-a-kinkier-Dom book he’d snuck out of Evan’s office. Evan quickly imprisoned his ankle in a vise cleverly disguised as a human hand and trapped him. Fucker. For a second, Jamie actually contemplated kicking him in his smug face. Next time, sock sandwich. Scrabbling forward on his hands and knees only gave him rug burns on his fingertips. “Let go, asshole!”

“
I’ve noticed you have a much dirtier mouth when you get all riled up, angel.”

“
Stop calling me that!”

“
And you have such a temper. Have you considered anger-management classes? I think you have issues.” Evan slid completely off the couch, boneless and slithering, a huge python.

Stupid yoga. Who’d a thought it could keep a guy in such good shape? Or was it from the Pilates? Being comparatively big and muscular, and kinky-bossy to boot, Evan flipped him over and had him pinned in seconds. Evan then maneuvered his knee into the danger zone with frightening accuracy.

“
I don’t have anger issues, dick-face. I have
frustration
issues.”

“
You’re frustrated?” Evan’s big, heavy body settled completely over his, hard and suffocating and so arousing Jamie started to get lightheaded. Or was he being crushed? His shoulder blades dug into the plush carpet, and his cock lusted against the knee shoved up into his crotch. “Are you frustrated because I haven’t been paying enough attention to you? Want some attention, Jamie?”