Read Plan B Online

Authors: SJD Peterson

Plan B (9 page)

Two hours later, I was sitting in a comfortable leather chair, black cape draped over me, staring at my hideous reflection in a large mirror. “Carlos, give me the works.”

I wasn’t surprised when later that night—my hair once again a sexy blond color with black/blue streaks, total makeover including eyebrows waxed and facial, the damned stubble gone—that there was a knock at the door. I considered not answering, but the pounding was insistent, getting louder by the second and when Lance bellowed, “Danny, I know you’re in there!” I scrambled off the bed and jerked the door open.

Lance stood on the other side of the door, face red, nostrils flaring. He was dressed in a gray pullover hoodie, faded jeans, and dammit did he look good with his aggressive demeanor and flushed face.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Why haven’t you been answering my text messages?”

He crowded me, pushed me back from the door, and closed it behind him. His eyes scanned the small space over my shoulder; once satisfied we were alone, he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to shove me up against the door.

Before I could respond, he smashed his mouth against mine, a hand against the door on either side of my head, creating a cage around me. He nipped and licked at my lips but I refused to open to him, my body rigid and unresponsive. At least the majority of me stayed that way—below the waistband responded to his nearness, the spice of his cologne, and his demanding kiss. I tried getting my hands up to his chest to push him away, but there was no space between us, and he refused to budge.

Giving up on my mouth, Lance growled and kissed his way along my jaw to my ear. “C’mon, Danny, I’m real sorry about the other day and I’ve missed you. Just one kiss.”

I moved my hand from his stomach to his crotch, and he wasn’t kidding that he’d missed me. He was hard as a rock. He groaned when I squeezed the hard bulge. “You missed me, did you?”

He nodded against my neck and then pulled back to meet my eyes. “Yeah, I did. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I last saw you.”

When he pressed his lips to mine again, I opened my mouth and invited his tongue in. While I let him set the pace of the kiss, I rubbed my thumb back and forth against his straining erection. I was excited to see him, and the fact that he was so eager to see me and kiss me only added to the enthusiasm. However, I’d had nothing but time to think of him over the previous four days and I needed to know. I wasn’t about to let him get me all worked up and just leave me hanging again.

I kept my hand on his crotch; with the other, I reached up and wrapped my fingers around one of his wrists, pulled his hand down, and pressed it against my own hard prick.

I got my answer.

Lance jerked away and stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet. His eyes were wide, a panicked look on his face as he wiped a hand over his mouth.

“I thought so,” I hissed. I reached behind me and turned the knob, opening the door without taking my eyes from him. “Get out.”

He stood there clenching and unclenching the hand that had been pressed against my dick. That, combined with the expression on his face, flat-out infuriated me. “I said get the fuck out!” I roared.

My anger seemed to break through his shock and he took a step toward me. I sidestepped him and pulled the door open further, using it like a shield between us.

“I’m sorry. I just need a minute, is all.”

“You don’t need a minute. I can educate you in seconds flat. I’m a man. Not only am I a man, but a gay man. Not a chick, not some delicate girl you can seduce. A fucking man!” I pointed to the hallway. “Class dismissed.”

His eyes darted to the hallway and he took a step. I thought he was going to leave, but just as I was ready to hit him in the ass with it, he grabbed the door with both hands, ripping it from my grip and slamming it shut. He then leaned back against it, blocking any escape I might have entertained.

“Danny, dammit, I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know you’re a guy, I just….” The hand in his hair went around to the back of his neck, rubbing. “I just wasn’t expecting that. That’s all.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “Expecting what? That a guy has a dick? You sure didn’t have a problem with this
guy
touching yours.”

Lance dropped his arm and his shoulders slumped. “Can we please just sit down and talk about this?” His eyes were pleading when he repeated, “Please?”

God, I was such a pushover. I stomped over to my bed and sat on the edge. I was tense, vibrating, and aching for a fight, but I’d let him at least say what he needed to before he left or I removed him.

He took a seat on Bo’s bed, forearms resting on his knees, hands dangling as he stared at the floor between his feet. “I know what you are, Danny. I’m just having a really hard time dealing with it, is all. When I’m not around you, I’m thinking about you all the fucking time: being with you, kissing you”—he raised his head and met my eyes—“touching you.”

“The real thing not as good as the fantasies I take it?”

“No. I mean, yes… I mean….” He huffed out a breath. “Kissing you is way fucking better than any fantasy. It’s just… I see you and you’re like this gorgeous fucking chick and I get all hot and bothered and I know on some level you’re a dude, but you don’t look like a dude, but I know you are. And… and it’s like that’s a big part of what gets me so hot but, then I think, if I was attracted to guys then why the hell am I attracted to one that looks like….” He held his hand out, palm up.

He was rambling and I could tell how much his attraction to me was bothering him, but I kept my mouth shut. This was his shit to sort through. I probably could have been a little more sensitive, but dammit, it’s a real ball-buster when you’re kissing a guy and the minute he touches your dick, he runs. My ego was wounded.

He dropped his arm back to his knee and looked at me as if he were waiting for me to explain it all. After a few more minutes, he gave up and finally said, “I don’t know what it was about that stripper. When I left the club, I couldn’t think of anything but him and how I’d been turned on like I’d never been before. After I bailed on the guy I met on the Internet, I swore I’d never act on it again. Put it behind me like it was just part of growing up. That it didn’t mean anything.

“But obviously it didn’t stay in the past, because when I’m with you, it’s the same kind of feeling. You drive me out of my head crazy, thinking about you. But I’m not going to lie, Danny. Just like with that stripper, my attraction to you freaks me the fuck out. I’m not gay.” He shook his head vigorously, then stopped and hung his head. He sounded so miserable when he whispered, “Am I?”

My abused ego was petted and I relaxed a little. “So you found something that tripped your trigger in a big way. Maybe it’s the thrill, the taboo of it, I don’t really know. I learned a long time ago that we can’t choose what or who we’re attracted to, and there isn’t always any rhyme or reason to it. If I had to take a guess, I’d say you’re curious and there is nothing wrong with that.”

He looked up at me and started to say something, but I hushed him by holding up a hand. “Although I may understand it’s confusing the hell out of you, I gotta tell you. I’m not thrilled by your reaction to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t change. But you need to look at this from my point of view. While I may be incredibly flattered by your attraction to me—” I dramatically moved my hand down from head to toe, pointing out the goods. “I mean, what’s not to be attracted to?”

That made him chuckle and some of the tension in the room dissipated. “True.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact of what I am. So you have to ask yourself, what are you going to do about your attraction? I’m game for a little exploration and fun, but I can tell you right now, I can’t handle you getting all revved up and wanting to kiss me whenever you see me, getting me all worked up and then leaving me hanging. That’s just cruel.”

“I’m not sure what I can handle,” he admitted quietly.

I leaned back on my elbows and stretched my legs out, crossing my ankles. “Then let’s keep our interaction to waving hello in passing or chatting civilly when we’re with Bo and Katie, until you figure it out.”

“I know I don’t want that.”

I tipped my head back and blew out a breath. Good God, the man was going to drive me to drink. One more deep breath. “So what do you want from me, Lance? My turn for a little truth here. What I’d like to do with your sexy ass goes way beyond what’s proper in public, but I’m not going to pretend I’m a chick to make you feel more comfortable with this. You can’t have it both ways.”

Lance stayed in the same position, head hanging, staring at the floor for long moments. It was a lot to think about, I knew that. I liked Lance well enough. He was a little strange at times, but he was hot and intriguing. I was a horny bastard and loved a challenge, so fuck yeah, I was more than willing to educate Lance on the awesomeness of male-on-male action. Friends with benefits worked well for me. However, I wasn’t going to suck his dick or fuck him while he hid behind closed-eyed fantasies of being with a chick. If that’s what he was looking for, he’d be better off looking for some little co-ed who was willing to strap one on.

Finally, after what seemed like hours—but was in actuality only minutes—Lance lifted his head, a smile curling his lips. “You think my ass is sexy?”

A small giggle escaped me since I wasn’t expecting that response. I rolled my eyes as he waggled his brows at me. “It’s not bad,” I deadpanned.

He got up from where he was sitting on Bo’s bed and moved to mine, sitting next to me. “You can’t take it back now. You said, and I quote, ‘your sexy ass’.”

“Yeah, yeah, so we both seem to be attracted to each other. Question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Lance didn’t answer with words. While he’d been quietly staring at the floor, he must have come to some conclusion, because he leaned in and pressed his mouth against mine. It started as a gentle brush of lips, no tongue or teeth—tender. I wasn’t passive but I didn’t set the pace either. Lance kissed my top lip, the corners of my mouth, and then pulled at my bottom lip with his. I hummed when he added his tongue into the mix. The sound must have encouraged him, as he thrust his tongue into my mouth and grabbed the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair, not letting me pull back from the kiss. He needn’t have worried. I sucked at his tongue, adding mine into the battle, which pulled a moan from him as the kiss became more and more aggressive.

I wasn’t gentle when I grabbed the back of his head in return and tugged at the silky strands, pulling him back and following him with my mouth. I pressed and pulled against his body until he was lying on his back and I was leaning down over him. My dick twitched in my jeans as my arousal renewed. I released the hold I had on his hair and ran my fingers along the thick tendon on the side of his neck, down his chest, and over the ridges of muscle on his stomach. I didn’t stop until I reached the waistband of his jeans. I lifted his sweatshirt, the tips of my fingers seeking out the warm flesh beneath. He shuddered beneath me when I moved back up his body, my palm soft against his heated flesh. I reached up and pinched and tugged at his left nipple until it was an erect nub, and then moved to the right, giving it the same treatment, all the while kissing him.

When I ran my hand back down his chest, I pulled back to look at him. Lance’s eyes were squeezed shut, his breathing labored through parted lips. I wanted to see his face, look into his eyes as I touched him and I wanted him to see
me
. “Open your eyes, Lance.”

He slowly complied, blinking, his eyes heavy with lust.

“Keep them open,” I murmured as I popped the button on his jeans.

He nodded; his breath hitched when I eased down his zipper and released his straining prick. “Ah, yeah,” he moaned as his hips lifted off the bed when I wrapped my hand around his length and began stroking him.

“Feel good?”

“Fuck, yeah.” He snapped his hips, pushing his dick through my fist. “Harder.”

I set a rapid pace, stroking him from the flared, leaking cockhead, down to the base, and back up. He was leaking a steady stream of precum, slicking the way for my palm. A tremor went through him when I slowed my movements to press my thumb against his slit and then teased the wet digit around the underside of his engorged head. I set a rhythm of stroking and teasing until his cock began to throb in my hand, and I knew he was close. I stroked downward to the base and squeezed. Lance’s eyes darkened further, the black of his pupils nearly blowing out all traces of color, and he breathed harshly, trying to control his need to come.

With Lance’s focus on his pleasure, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to see how far he was willing to go with his new resolve. I shifted until I could reach the button of my jeans. Unfastening my pants, I shoved the denim down my hips, releasing my own painfully hard cock. Lance’s brow creased, but he didn’t say anything and he didn’t push me away. He kept his eyes locked with mine as I laid back down next to him, propping myself up on an elbow, facing him. Encouraged, I pumped him a couple of times, moving him closer to the edge of his orgasm, keeping his focus on his pleasure, before saying, “Touch me, Lance.” I kissed him hard, demanding his full attention until he moaned and thrust hard. “Only a touch,” I whispered against his parted lips, my hand still working him hard.

One of Lance’s large hands wrapped around mine, squeezing, forcing my grip to tighten. I was just about to tell him that wasn’t what I had meant, when his other hand shot out, grabbed my dick. He began pumping me in harmony with the fast rhythm we set on his own cock.

It didn’t take long before Lance threw his head back, spine arching, and he grunted as liquid heat fountained up over our joined hands and landed on his stomach. Watching him chase his pleasure, his calloused hand causing the perfect friction along my length, and the smell of sex pulled my orgasm from my body.

I collapsed back onto the bed, pulse racing as I worked to catch my breath. Lance continued to stroke me; his hand had gentled but even that became too much on my overly sensitive prick and I pushed his hand away. To my utter disbelief, he rolled over until he was the one looking down at me, a big satisfied grin on his face.

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