“And because we’ll be at your house within the next 30 minutes and I can kiss you before we’ve even made it to the front door?”
“That, too.”
We let the bull move us for another few seconds, but my shitty self-control is about to give up on me altogether, so I peel my needy body away from his and shut it all down. Jake’s perfectly capable of putting himself back together, so I mumble something about lights and music, and I take care of those before I swoop behind the bar just long enough to gather everything I need. It doesn’t take me long to finish up in V’s office—receipts filed, deposit secured—and when I return to the bar with my hoodie on and my keys and phone in hand, I’m met with a stare that suggests we hurry home.
Jake has the advantage of riding his motorcycle, the late November air helping to keep him cool, sexy leather jacket or no. I roll down a window and press the heel of my hand to my cock when it twitches again, determined to make it so much further before I come. This late at night, especially on a holiday, there’s little traffic, and we don’t get separated until a stoplight a fewblocks from my place. It means Jake beats me there, and when I get out of my car, his helmet and bike have been left in my driveway, and he’s leaning against my house like he knows he’s the hottest goddamn 50something in all of California.
He could be anywhere tonight. I love that he’s here with me.
“What’s a guy like you doing at a place like this?” I ask.
Jake grabs me by the bottom of my sweatshirt and pulls me into him for a long, deep kiss. I moan into his mouth but don’t rush anything because it’s the last sweet moment we’ll share for a while. When I grind against him, I realize he’s as hard as I am—again or still—and every slutty part of me screams that I need more of that, and less of a kiss that might never end. I stay where I am though, mostly because he tastes like a lot of things I’ve never had, and it’s only when Jake whimpers that I think maybe I taste like a lot of things he misses.
I bite his lip and back away and fumble with the lock so I can get us inside.
My thoughts aren’t nearly as clear after that.
Jake and I slam into the door and a couple of walls, and our shoes and jacket and hoodie and sweater make a messy trail on the floor in case one of us needs to find our way back. The hallway isn’t long, but we stop there to palm each other through our jeans and pant into each other’s mouths. Someone’s zipper is loud. Someone’s moan is louder. We move again, and kissing mostly leads to needy laughter when we can’t do much more than lick and nip at any bare skin we can reach. More clothes litter our path, and I don’t care.
When we stumble into my room, Jake breathes against my ear. “I haven’t been in here before.”
“This is the bed,” I say, pushing him onto it. “You can look at everything else later.”
We’re both naked, or close enough to it, and together we kick and pull at my comforter and pillows and anything else in our way. I’ve never seen Jake like this before, and without the desperation driving me now, I think I’d stop to admire whatever I’ve done to him. Instead, I rut against his leg, and he ruts against mine, and we’re kissing again because I don’t need air unless it’s coming directly from him.
When that’s not enough—when I need Jake inside me—I crawl onto my hands and knees and arch my back and assume he’ll figure out the rest. He’s been the smartest guy at Trailhead for years, and as he fumbles with my nightstand drawer, I’m glad he’s the smartest man in my room, too.
Seconds later, I hate him.
Everything Jake found in the drawer gets set down somewhere behind me and left there, his hands warm and steady and too fucking gentle when he uses them to bare me to him. His tongue opens me next, and I hiss when he’s just as gentle there. I would’ve begged for this on any other night—have fantasized about it plenty—but my patience got dropped somewhere near the front door, and I want so much more now.
“Come on,” I whine. “You can’t tease me like this.”
Jake chuckles, though he sounds nearly as choked by his arousal as I am by mine. “After that stunt you pulled with thebull, I’m pretty sure you deserve to be teased exactly like this.”
He has nothing else to say, but a lot he wants to do, and whatever experience he has with something just like this comes in handy as he starts to take me apart. Jake’s confidence is devastating for my restraint, his mouth open and wet and eager to make me weep. I can’t help but reach for my cock, stroking it madly until he gives me a reason to slow down.
“No,” he whispers. “Be good. Wait for me.”
As if his breath against me wasn’t enough to make me cry out, the quiet command would’ve done it. I hurry to say something, just so he can’t call me on it.
“I didn’t expect this from you.”
“There are so many things I didn’t expect from you,” he says. backing up to run a finger over my hole. “So many things.”
The very idea of that is laughable when I’m the same guy he’s watched fuck strangers for years, but I can’t do anything but drop to one forearm and chase any of the pressure that will leave me feeling less empty, unabashed in my impatience. I’m teased by another few seconds with Jake’s tongue, but then I feel him growl against me when his control falters too, and I let go of my dick just to reach back and finger myself.
All’s fair in sex and war, or however the saying goes.
Jake knocks my hand away and slides two lubed fingers deep inside me before I can wonder when he opened the bottle. I’m not hurt and confused like I was the night I bent myself over the bathroom sink for him, and he’s not being careful about the way he’s prepping me with a touch that isn’t out of practice anymore.He trusts me, and he trusts himself, and he’ll take what he wants while I get everything. I give a lot of people a lot of freedom to fuck me their way—my instincts are good and it’s rare for me to be disappointed in anyone I’ve dragged into a dark corner—but Jake is about to fuck meourway, and I don’t even know what that means.
My hand returns to my cock, my grip looser this time because I want to be good, and my head is still lowered to the mattress. I’m a live wire of anticipation while wholly relaxed, and when he slips his fingers free, I know he’s not going to drag this out any longer, even if we’re both aware he could. Jake proves me right a moment later, a condom wrapper thrown off the bed just before he grabs my hip with one hand and, presumably, guides himself into me with the other.
“God, I’ve missed this,” I say. “Why does it feel like it’s been forever?”
Jake rocks into me, eases backward, then bottoms out again, his perfectly manicured fingernails likely leaving marks up and down my spine. “It’s been a month or so for us, not counting the fun we had in my spa. Not sure what else you’ve been up to, but I’m glad I’m back.”
I don’t have any interest in thinking about anyone but Jake right now, and I’m grateful when he picks up the pace, each quick thrust barely leaving me time to miss him before he’s deep inside me again. I can’t see him, and he doesn’t make much noise at all, but everything about his hold on me—a hand pulling my hair now and another ridiculously steady somewhere just below myribcage—makes it impossible for me to keep from chanting his name like a fucking mantra.
I guess Jake would call it a prayer.
I’m fine with that if it means he’ll make me see God.