Or a ghost town.The bedroom was bordering on clinical, and a chill rattled through Marc until Jamie came up behind him and slid his hands beneath his clothes. The skin-on-skin contact broke through the heavy air, and Marc let go of a shaky sigh. Sometimes, it seemed like the brief physical encounters they’d shared were little more than a figment of his imagination, but then Jamie would put his hands on him and the fire ignited all over again.
And the spark roared to life now. Marc spun in Jamie’s arms and lifted him clean off his feet as their lips met in a kiss that was way overdue. The sterile bedroom and the heartache faded, and the disquiet in Marc’s blood settled to a dull roar.
He turned in a slow circle, kissing Jamie over and over until he couldn’t hold him up any longer. Jamie stumbled as Marc set him down. His legs hit the bed behind him, and Marc took a chance and pushed him back.
Jamie gasped and clung to Marc’s jacket as he wriggled backwards, taking Marc with him, asking him without words to cover him with his body.
As if Marc could refuse.
As if he wanted to.
He let go of Jamie only to shed his coat, and then his hands were back on Jamie, cupping his face, tearing at his thin T-shirt, desperate for anything Jamie could give.
Jamie arched his neck, granting Marc access to his elegant throat. “Don’t pull back... promise me you won’t.”
“Pull back from what? From you?”
“Marc—”
“Shh.” Marc pushed Jamie’s hair out of his face and kissed his temple. “I’m sorry about that, okay? I’m not going to back off unless you ask me to, I promise.”
In answer, Jamie flexed his hips and wrapped his long slender legs around Marc’s waist. Marc’s body responded before his mind caught up, and suddenly, any bets that had lingered between them were long gone.
Marc removed his prosthesis, and then clothes disappeared like they’d never been there at all. And though Marc had been naked with Jamie before, he gazed at him like it was the first time he’d seen his lean chest and scarred pale skin. He rolled Jamie over and pressed his lips to the burns on his back. “One day you’ll have to tell me how you got these.”
“It’s not that interesting,” Jamie ground out through shivers. “I took ketamine at a rave and fell asleep by the fire.”
The relief that the vicious marks hadn’t been caused by someone else’s hand was so strong that Marc nearly wept, but the friction of his cock digging into the base of Jamie’s spine was distracting enough to make his head spin.
“Do it,” Jamie said. “Whatever you’re thinking, do it... please. I need you to fuck me.”
The haze that had descended on Marc the moment they’d lost their clothes wavered. He wanted to fuck Jamie more than he’d ever wanted anyone. “Have you got condoms and lube?”
“Just lube. I haven’t needed johnnies, but I got tested every three months in Cali, and once before I left.”
“I got tested a while ago too. I’m good with this, if you are?”
“Fuck yeah.” Jamie raised his arms above his head and let his legs fall open, the invitation—the challenge—was clear, but lurking behind the brazenness was the insecurity that had fooled Marc into believing that he knew best in the first place.
Marc reached over Jamie and opened the bedside table. A half-empty bottle of lube lay in the drawer. He cocked an eyebrow at Jamie. “Been busy?”
Jamie snorted. “Not recently, but it was my only friend until you came along.”
Marc could hardly remember the last person he’d been with either, and he’d never fucked anyone the way he was about to fuck Jamie.
He popped the lube and balanced it against Jamie’s pillows, then he crawled over him and kissed him, working his hands beneath Jamie’s hips to draw him as close as possible.
They kissed for what seemed like hours, grinding together, chest to chest, cock to cock. Jamie’s hips flexed as he sought friction, but Marc held back for a while in a fruitless attempt to make it last.
But there was no hiding from the inevitable. The air grew hotter, their kisses deeper, and coherent thought abandoned Marc. He fumbled for the lube and slathered it on, and then eased into Jamie with a gradual slide that made them both gasp.
He watched Jamie for any sign of discomfort or pain, but there was only wide-eyed bliss that spurred Marc on as he fucked Jamie as slowly as his crazed desire for him would allow. With his hands on Jamie’s spread thighs, he drove in and out of him as Jamie clawed wildly at his back, urging him on with filthy words that went straight to Marc’s cock. But the dirty talk didn’t last long. It faded as fast as the rosy flush on Jamie’s chest appeared, and Marc was utterly transfixed by every gasp and moan that fell from Jamie’s lips. Every arch and jerk of his body.
They fucked for a long time like that. Marc fused his lips to Jamie’s, fighting release as it burned through him, somehow finding the will to ease off each time it threatened to boil over. The need to come was insane, but his addiction to watching Jamie writhe and moan was stronger. He gripped Jamie’s damp hair and twisted gently in an attempt to ground himself. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
Jamie’s only reply was an animalistic cry as he threw his head back, baring his throat. Marc took the cue and sank his teeth in. Barely breaking rhythm, he rolled Jamie onto his side and claimed his place behind him. The shift in angle was mind-blowing. Marc bit out a curse, and lava filled his belly. He thrust harder and bit down on his lip as Jamie pushed back against him.I can’t—
“Jamie, shit—”