But the need to have him insidemewon out. I jutted my chin in the general direction of my discarded jeans. “Back pocket.”
Kim retrieved the lube and slicked his dick. Then he nudged my legs apart with his knees and dropped a palm either side of my head, his cock pressing against me. “Damn. Didn’t even get you naked.”
It was true. Both of us were still wearing T-shirts and socks, but I was past caring, if, indeed, I ever had. Kim slid home, and I threw my head back, groaning, gasping, almost undone by that single, devilish stroke. “God.”
“I know, right?” Kim flexed his hips, eliciting a strangled noise from me. “It’s bloody magic.”
I couldn’t think of a better word, not that I tried too hard as Kim dug his fingers into my hips and fucked me. Lips caught in a snarl, I thrust my hips up to meet his fast-increasing pace, and it didn’t take long for shit to get real.
Kim gripped my leg and pushed my thigh to my chest, snaking an arm under my shoulders to tug on my hair. His rough touch had me seeing stars, and I took myself in hand, pumping my dick furiously to keep up with him. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”
And that was an understatement. I’d come like a train in the basement at the gig, my yells masked by the thumping bass above us, but this—being shunted across the floor of Kim’s reclaimed gypsy trailer—was something else, something that would rattle the tin walls around us if I let it go.
Kim’s hand slid from under me to grip my chin. His eyes were wild, his breathing sharp and scratchy. He fucked me faster, groaning with every brutal drive of his hips, and a beautiful flush coloured his cheeks. “I’m gonna come too.”
Thank God. I watched, awed, as he fell apart, and then followed him, lost in the elegant arch of his neck and his ragged cry. Wet warmth coated my stomach and hand, and heat pulsed inside me. I mourned the sensation lost to the condom, but as Kim dragged me up for a searing kiss, the reckless devil in my brain danced away. We kissed and kissed andkissed, until I had no real idea how long we’d been writhing on the floor. My dick hardened again, and I gasped in enough air to beg for round two. “Kim—”
The trailer door opened, letting in a warmish spring breeze that carried with it a sultry giggle and the distinctive floral scent of a woman.
“I see you started without me.”
I’d never covered my cock so fast in all my life, not even when my mum had caught me wanking in year ten. I wrenched my legs from Kim’s grasp and scrambled to my knees, swiping my jeans from the floor.
I missed and toppled sideways. “Shit.”
The woman chuckled again. “Don’t get dressed on my account.”
Oh hey, Red.I stared at the woman from the gig—the singer from Moon-Hot Monkey Paste, for a moment oblivious to Kim moving past me. In the flesh, she was as beautiful as the pictures I’d spent far too long editing: curvy and quirky, and covered in as much ink as Kim. I wanted to touch her, out of fascination more than attraction.
But Kim got there first. He grabbed her hand and started to pull her away. “Damn it, Lena. I told you I wasn’t around tonight.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Red—Lena,apparently—retorted, yanking her hand from his grasp. “To turn the burners off while you’re out. I didn’t realise you had company. I’m sorry.”
She directed her last words at me. With my skin still sheened with sweat—and other things—I didn’t know quite how to respond. I wiped my stomach with my T-shirt and shrugged. “It’s fine. I was—er—going, anyway.”
“Jas—”
Kim reached for my hand before he seemed to remember he was already holding Red’s, and something in the way he’d tangled his fingers in hers felt suddenly significant. I tilted my head to one side and regarded them, absorbing how their bodies had instinctively angled towards each other.
Shit.My stomach dropped. “You two are together.”
It wasn’t a question so much as stating the obvious. And the split-second silence that lacked the amused denial I’d subconsciously hoped for said far more than whatever Kim opened his mouth to say.
I cut him off. “Don’t. It’s not like you told me anything different, is it?”
And he hadn’t. My assumptions were my own. I yanked my now-grubby T-shirt over my head and searched for my shoes.
Kim’s hand finally found my arm. “Don’t go, Jas. It’s not what you think.”
Right.I forced a smile, struggling to keep my tone light as a brutal wave of disappointment washed over me. “It doesn’t matter, mate. Honestly. It was just a shag.”
Kim’s hand fell away. I took my chance and pushed past him, fortuitously spotting my shoes by the door. I stamped into them and made my escape, taking the wooden steps two at a time. The orchard had seemed beautiful when I’d arrived, the grass dappled with the setting sun as it filtered through the trees, but the canopy of leaves felt oppressive now, and I was drawn like a moth towards the fading daylight ahead.
“Jas! Jas! Wait up.”
Kim caught up with me on the dusty path that ran parallel to a field of strawberries I hadn’t noticed on my way in. I kept walking, though I did pay him the courtesy of looking at him. After all, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Hadn’t claimed to be gay, or single, or both. And, stupidly, I hadn’t asked him.
Stupidly, because this was a game I’d played before, though admittedly, this round had been lightning fast compared to the clusterfuck of my last serious relationship.