Dreamspinner Press Year Seven Greatest Hits Page 49

  While he got his breath back, I found my discarded undershirt and wiped my face. The taste of him lingered in my mouth, and I savored it. Wanted it again.

  “Fuck, that was….” Jeremy’s descriptive skills failed him. I grinned, pleased to see him reduced to grasping for words. He slid off the bed and down to his knees, reached forward, and kissed me, his tongue plunging into my mouth. I let him in, eager for his kiss. Desperate for whatever came next.

  He broke the kiss and sat back, warm breath whispering across my lips. His hands drifted from my shoulders down to rest on my thighs. “What do you need, Cole?” he asked.

  My throat tightened. No one had asked me that question, in or out of the bedroom, in a long, long time. The only thing I knew for sure was that I needed to come, and I needed Jeremy to get me there. The actual mechanics of those goals were—

  “Do you want to fuck me?”

  A surge of heat blasted through my guts at Jeremy’s question, and some kind of affirmative must have bled out in my expression, because he smiled. The last time I’d topped was more than ten years ago, in the back room of some club fifty miles from my college dorm. I’d enjoyed the hell out of it and gave it up for Martin, who absolutely refused to be fucked ever. The idea of sinking balls-deep inside of Jeremy’s body had my cock aching.

  An ache tempered by a sudden, cold dose of reality. “I don’t have anything,” I said.

  Jeremy chuckled, then reached over his shoulder for the paper bag. He produced a takeout container that smelled faintly of apples and spice, put it on the floor nearby, then upended the bag. Two other items tumbled to the carpet: a box of condoms and a sealed bottle of lube.

  “Told you I brought dessert,” he said.

  I eyed the two pieces of necessary equipment, more amused by their presence than annoyed by his presumptiveness. “Expecting to get lucky?”

  “I live in hope of the impossible coming true. Plus, I like to be prepared.”

  “You were a Boy Scout, weren’t you?”

  “Hell no. My sister was a Girl Scout, and she lived and breathed it for four years. Made me live and breathe it too, for a while.”

  I grinned at the image of a little girl in her patched sash giving Jeremy orders.

  He gave me an exaggerated glare. “Don’t mock the Girl Scouts. Without all that Be Preparedness, you’d be stuck waiting for the drug store to open at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.”

  “Or stuck driving an hour with a woody to the twenty-four-hour Walmart.”

  “That too.”

  “Then I’m grateful you thought to stop and get dessert. Both kinds.”

  He tilted his head to the side, eyes sparking with humor. “Prove it.”

  Egged on by his teasing, I reached for the takeout container with an intent expression. Jeremy snatched it away with a bark of laughter. “You don’t get your apple turnover until later,” he said.

  “So the other dessert?” I asked with mock innocence. “I think I’m a little overdressed for that.”

  “Then strip.”

  The gentle command in those two words sent a shiver of delight up my spine. I hadn’t shucked my jeans and briefs so fast since I was eighteen and about to get blown for the first time. In a sense, I was—first time since starting over with a fresh slate. With gentle hands, Jeremy directed me to sit on the end of the bed. He knelt between my spread legs, hands rubbing my thighs and warming the skin, his eyes on my cock. I had a mental image of a kid eyeballing a special, forbidden treat, and then all thoughts fled as Jeremy took me in his mouth.

  A string of “fucks” fell from my lips as my mind exploded from the intensity of first contact. I leaned back on my hands, bunching my fingers in the bedspread so I didn’t grab at him. I didn’t want to hurt him, even by accident. He took his time licking my cock, sucking my balls into his mouth, enough pressure to curl my toes without making me come before we hit the main event.

  Just as I thought to warn him I was too close, he pulled off and blew cool air across the damp skin. I shivered, my orgasm hiding just out of reach.

  “Next time I’ll suck you until you come,” he said in a rough voice. Next time. “Right now, I need to feel you inside me.”

  “God, yes,” I said on the heels of a groan.

  The bed bounced a little as Jeremy climbed up. I pulled him forward and kissed him, feeling a surge of pure lust as I tasted myself mixed with that faint flavor of sweet tea. He kissed me back with a new kind of hunger. He’d come once, but the cock brushing my thigh was definitely taking renewed interest in our activities.

  Jeremy broke the kiss, then moved onto his hands and knees in the center of the bed. The sight of him like that, waiting and submissive, sent a clench of need through my abdomen so sharp I almost gasped out loud. Knees spread, ass in the air, he glanced over his shoulders, brown eyes smoldering. “Just go slow,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

  “How long’s a while?” I asked while I ripped into the box of condoms.

  “Over a year.”

  A year since he’d bottomed. Ten years since I’d topped. Going slow was going to be absolute torture. Just putting the condom on was an exercise in restraint for my cock—I hadn’t worn one in forever, and I wouldn’t last long once I was actually fucking him.

  Once I was suited and slicked, I shifted to kneel behind him. He kept watching me over his left shoulder, unable to hide his interest in the proceedings. I squeezed a generous amount of lube onto my fingers, then rubbed them together to warm it as much as I could. I’d spent enough time on the other side of things to know how to make this good for him. And that started with “there’s no such thing as too much lube.”

  Without my asking, he spread his legs a little more, opening himself up for me. I wanted to lean in and taste him, to wet his hole with my tongue and mouth. Another time. More than anything, I needed inside him. Even though he was still watching, my touch made him jump. I pressed the pad of one finger against his hole, massaging the tight muscle, applying just enough pressure to breach him. My finger slid inside to the second knuckle on the shiver-inducing sound of his groan. His head dropped down; his body clenched around my finger. When the shudder passed, I began a steady rhythm of fucking him with my hand, angling it and working it to get him ready for—

  “Another,” Jeremy said on a gasp.

  I slid a second finger in this time and received that same clenching groan. God, he was tight. So beautifully tight and waiting for me. I should have let him make me come earlier, should have taken the edge off and worked back up to this like a horny virgin who’s trying to make his first time something special. And in a way, I was doing just that.

  My fingers worked his body, and soon he was pushing back against my hand, eager for the thrusts. I couldn’t wait much longer. “More?” I asked, barely recognizing the hoarse growl.

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Thank God.”

  Jeremy’s throaty laugh vibrated down his back to my hand. “Someone’s eager.”

  I slid my left hand around his hip to the front and found his cock hard again. “I’m not the only one.”

  “Damn right.”

  I squeezed more lube on the condom, held his hip with my left hand, and guided my pulsing cock to his entrance with my right. My heart slammed against my ribs. Adrenaline made my arms tremble. I wanted to thrust home, to claim him fully right now—only snippets of dark memories stilled my impulses. Slowly I pushed forward, and Jeremy let me in, a careful slide into gripping heat. He tried to push back, to speed me up, and I stilled him with a hard squeeze to his hip.

  At long last I was fully inside him, and I let out a harsh breath. Jeremy clenched, and I grabbed his hips with both hands, overcome by the primitive urge to fuck. To pull out and drive into him until I’d taken my pleasure and given him his. Not yet—not until I was sure he was ready for me. I rubbed my palms down his flanks, over sweat-damp skin, then back up to grip his hips.

  “Go,” he finally said.

  As predic
ted, I lasted only a few minutes until it was all too much. I thrust hard into him as my orgasm hit, shattering months of building tension and worry in fireworks of color and pleasure. I probably shouted something too, too loudly for the thin motel walls to hide from my neighbors, and for a moment, I didn’t care. I gripped the base of the condom as I pulled out, too sated to bother doing more than toss it at the nearby waste bin—all net, and it hit the bottom with an amusing splat.

  “Nice shot,” Jeremy said with a chuff of laughter as he rolled onto his back.

  I flopped down next to him and kissed him soundly while he jerked himself to a second release. I swallowed his cry when he came, then fetched a damp washcloth to clean us both up. We returned to bed afterward, not quite holding each other or cuddling, but lying close, arms and knees touching. Jeremy smiled at me, looking absolutely content, despite the fact that I’d gone off faster than a teenager getting his very first hand job.

  “You okay?” I asked before I could censor myself.

  Jeremy quirked an eyebrow at me. “Are you serious? I’m fantastic. You?”

  Better, now that I’d gotten that verbal confirmation. “Good. Great. I mean, thanks?” I was babbling and probably sounded like an idiot.

  He chuckled. “My pleasure.”

  “Mine too.”

  “Excellent.” He sat up, amusement playing in his eyes. “Now, how about our actual dessert? I’ve worked up a bit of an appetite.”

  I couldn’t say no, and for the first time in my life, I ate an apple turnover naked in bed.

  Chapter Seven

  WE NEVER really agreed that Jeremy was staying for the night. It just happened. After our actual, edible dessert, we watched a bad movie on cable and then ended up having sex again. I lasted much longer the second time, using every thrust and angle I knew to drive Jeremy to the very edge before helping him fall over, me not long after. Another quick cleanup led to a long bout of kissing, and at some point we crawled under the covers and went to sleep.

  I startled awake to the sound of a cell phone ringing—not mine. Somehow Jeremy and I had ended up tangled together, me draped across his back, and when he tried to sit up the side of his head cracked into my chin. I swore as I rolled away, hot needles stinging my jaw and teeth. Jeremy tossed me an apologetic look as he dove for his jeans, discarded at the foot of the bed.

  He glanced at the display and muttered something inaudible. “Collins,” he said to the phone. He blanched. “I know, I overslept. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” The voice on the other end squawked. “Because I’m not upstairs. See you in fifteen.”

  The ancient alarm clock’s numbers glared their dirty secret at us—it was five minutes after ten. In the morning. We’d both slept in.

  “Shit, I can’t believe I did that.” Jeremy stumbled toward the bathroom, then looked at me over his shoulder, regret in his dark eyes. “You mind if I hop into the shower? Meredith doesn’t have a key to open the store, and I was supposed to be there an hour ago.”

  “No, go,” I said.

  I stared at the ceiling while he showered, trying desperately to not imagine him naked, soaking himself, stroking himself. My entire body still buzzed with energy from our night together, high in a way I hadn’t been in years. It took the entire length of Jeremy’s brief shower to put a name to the pleasant emotion gripping me that morning—happiness. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt actual joy over something in my life. Despite the tedious cleanup still waiting for me, despite not knowing where I’d be in a month, and despite the fact that this was only temporary, I reveled in the happiness I felt over Jeremy. Over the combustible sex we’d had last night, and dear Lord, I wanted to do it again. Often.

  Until I had to leave for good.

  I just had to figure out how to tell all that to Jeremy.

  He burst out of the bathroom, still zipping his jeans, chest damp, and made a dive for his crumpled shirt. As he popped it on and situated the fabric, he glanced at me. His eyes widened, and he froze with one hand midstretch, reaching for a discarded sock. “Shit, I said I’d give you a ride to the house.”

  I shrugged, surprised I wasn’t more put out by the change of plans. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure out something.”

  Scowling, he came around the bed and leaned down to put us at eye level, fists pressing into the mattress by my knees. Nothing in his expression or posture made me nervous, but I still flinched back. Jeremy’s face softened. “Hey, listen, a promise is a promise. Let me go unlock the shop first, and then I’ll come back and pick you up. Meredith can do without me for an hour.”

  “Okay.”

  “Excellent.” His head moved as if he wanted to lean in for a kiss. Then he pulled back, probably unsure of protocol here.

  Truth to tell, I was a little unsure too. A good morning kiss was both incredibly intimate and perfectly natural—for lovers. I didn’t know exactly what we were, only that we worked well together. Not just in bed, either.

  “See you in a bit, then,” Jeremy said. “Coffee?”

  “God, yes.”

  He laughed, and after he’d slipped into his boots and left, I finally got out of bed. I’d lost hours of working time today, but I didn’t feel the least bit guilty. We’d enjoyed ourselves last night, and the freedom to be myself with Jeremy made me feel twenty pounds lighter. Only the weight returned as I approached the bathroom, still lit up and fan running. Reality crashed back down around me like shattering glass. My chest tightened. The scars on my shoulder ached with the phantom pain of wounds long healed. Physical wounds, anyway.

  Fucking Jeremy was one thing. Nothing else was on the table.

  I went through my usual in-and-out routine with the shower, then changed into my last clean shirt. I still needed to do my laundry. Maybe I could beg Jeremy to let me use the machines at his house tonight, rather than begging for a ride to the nearest town with a Laundromat. By the time I’d cleaned up the room, refilled my water bottle from the tap, and tied my sneakers, a familiar engine pulled up outside the motel.

  As promised, Jeremy had takeout coffee and breakfast sandwiches in the van. He ate with one hand while driving with the other, and the food was the perfect excuse to not talk. The van made a wide U in the driveway, and once he pulled to a stop, I practically bolted out of the awkward silence.

  “Dusk?” he asked.

  “See you at dusk,” I replied.

  The van trundled back toward the town road. Distance should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. I’d gotten used to him working thirty feet away, tossing around metal, swearing when he stubbed a toe or ran a calf into something sharp. My confusion made terrific fuel for the workday, and even though I’d lost about four hours of daylight, I still put a huge dent in the house. As the sun set lower to the horizon, I’d eaten two protein bars, drunk the entire bottle of water, and cleared out three-quarters of the living room.

  The majority of the hoard was trash, which went straight into the half-full dumpster. The only salvageable items had been on the top five feet or so. The bottom two were simply shoveled into trash bags. I didn’t need to go through it, and I wasn’t bothering to separate the recyclables. I just wanted it cleaned out. A good twelve square feet of floor was visible now, once a rich emerald color carpet and now mostly frayed matting and exposed boards. A few paintings still clung to the damaged walls, and I stuck those under the auction tent for now. I also managed to scrape together a pair of milk glass lamps and a wooden end table that was barely scratched.

  Jeremy returned just after sunset, and under the glare of his headlights, we carried a sofa, two matching chairs, and an upholstered ottoman over to the dumpster. The odor of the house clung to the faded, frayed fabrics and something had once nested in the sofa; no one would pay money for them. It wasn’t until we’d climbed into the van that I realized the stink clung to me as well—which didn’t surprise me, since I’d spent hours in that house today.

  “Damn it,” I snarled, slapping my palm against my knee.<
br />
  “What?” Jeremy cast me a concerned look, probably trying hard to not wrinkle his nose.

  “My clothes reek from that fucking house, and I don’t have anything else.”

  He didn’t skip a beat. “You know, you can use my washer if you need to do laundry. Tyson’s Laundromat went out of business a while ago.”

  “I noticed that when—wait, what? I can use your washer?”

  “That’s what I said. I know it’s not the most exciting way to spend a Saturday evening, but feel free.”

  “Thank you. Um, when’s a good time?”

  “How about right now? I have some frozen pizzas I can toss into the oven for dinner while the laundry spins. Two birds, one stone, and all that.”

  I stared at his profile while he drove, unnerved by the casual offer of food, laundry, and a few more hours of his time. From a buddy, there was nothing unusual about any of it. From someone I’d fucked less than twenty-four hours ago, it felt like more. He didn’t seem to want anything in return, but I still felt as if I’d owe him something for his generosity. Not that I intended to pay him back with sex—just the idea made my stomach twist.

  No, sex had been mutually beneficial for both of us. Working at my house was benefitting us both too. Maybe he really was doing favors just to be friendly. I needed to get the hell over myself and accept help once in a while.

  Easier said than done. Past experience showed me that favors always came with price tags, whether you saw the cost at the onset or not.

  At the motel, I tossed my dirty clothes into a trash bag, since I didn’t own an actual laundry basket. I also threw the lube and condoms back into the takeout bag, rolled it up, and brought it along in the trash bag. Jeremy probably wanted his supplies back, and we’d been too startled that morning to think of it then. More people were out and about that evening, being Saturday, and I felt awkward and exposed sitting in the front of Jeremy’s van. It had his store’s name on the side in small white letters, so people knew who he was. I didn’t want anyone knowing me who didn’t have to.