A gay story: As I Am Author’s Note: Many thanks and undying gratitude to Nelle1022 for proofreading, editing, providing invaluable feedback, and in general, putting up with my crap.
*****
Sitting at the bar at my favorite watering hole on a Friday night, I was nursing the last of my drink and attempting to indulge in a little self-pity, but the argument going on at the table behind me and a little to my right was beginning to annoy me. I didn’t even know what it was about but I doubted that the couple fighting did either. The situation was escalating quickly and I couldn’t help thinking that someone was going to have to intervene. Neither the guy nor his girl was backing down, and unless I read the situation wrong, which was doubtful, it was about to become violent.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than her drink went flying into his face and the back of his hand met the side of hers in a resounding smack. I bolted off my barstool and was at their table before the screeching wail left her mouth. With the table upended, my body made an effective shield between his hands and her face. He wouldn’t hit her again, not in my presence, anyway.
“Come on, Buddy,” I said, my voice sounding deceptively calm, belying the adrenaline rushing through my veins, adroitly killing the nice buzz that I had going on mere moments before. “Let’s go take a walk. Calm down for a bit. Get some fresh air.”
I could hear a commotion behind me. Another patron had stepped up to administer whatever aide the girl needed.
“Mind your own fucking business!” The guy was beyond pissed. His face was red and veins were popping out at his neck and temples. He was ready and willing to take me on and anyone else standing between him and his girl, even though he couldn’t have possibly succeeded.
Well, fuck. This asshole was going to put the topping on the cake of my fabulously shitty week by landing my ass in jail or on a gurney. “Come on, Buddy,” I tried again. “Tempers got a little out of control. It happens to all of us. Look around you. Use your head.”
The guy decided to put whatever brain cells he had left to use. He glanced around and I took a breath, deducing that I wasn’t about to end up dead or incarcerated after all. This wasn’t some fancy wine bar or trendy nightclub. It was a dive in a low rent neighborhood. It was neutral ground and most of the clientele were old-school bikers, and one percenters at that. They weren’t going to sit by and watch him pummel his girl, and judging by his attire and demeanor, he knew it too. Neutral ground or not, the potential for any altercation to turn into a massacre was high.
“Let’s go take a walk,” I suggested again. “Let everybody have a chance to calm down. Don’t worry. She’ll still be here when we get back.” I hoped that I was lying through my teeth and that, for the girl’s sake, she was long gone before we even made it out the front door.
Glancing around again, the guy growled, “Fuck it. The whore’s not worth this shit.” Deciding that he wasn’t going anywhere alone with anyone in the bar, probably the only smart thing he’d ever done in his life, he turned his back to me and stormed his way out of the bar.
There was dead silence in the bar for almost a minute, with the exception of the median volume level of music, before everyone went back to enjoying their night out. I turned around to check on the girl just in time to see a couple of the other women in the bar leading her off toward the ladies’ room.
I settled back on my barstool to find a new drink in the place of my previously empty glass.
“That was pretty smooth,” the bartender complimented me. He indicated my refreshed glass. “That’s for not trashing my joint.”
I shrugged my thanks. “That’s my job.”
He chuckled. “What? Hostage negotiator?”
I smirked, “No. Bouncer. But they probably aren’t all that much different. Basically just trying to get everyone out of a nasty situation alive.”
His beer gut jiggled as he laughed loudly. “Well, I owe you one.”
**
The next morning, I added extra time to my workout routine in a valiant attempt to burn off the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed the night before. People kept buying me drinks to reward me for my calm in the face of the storm. I, of course, drank them. It would have been rude not to. Then I woke up in the bed of some chick whose name I didn’t even know. Way to go, Moron. I couldn’t remember any of it, although I was pretty sure of what had happened. I hoped that she blamed my lack of enthusiasm on the whiskey and not the reality of the fact that she didn’t have the right equipment to keep my interest. Who knows? Maybe I actually fucked her. It wouldn’t have been the first time that I had stupidly stuck my dick someplace where it shouldn’t have been.
And that thought brought me right back to that emotional state that had put me in the bar in the first place. As I stood in the shower at the gym, washing the sweat off, I tried to figure out where I had mistakenly tattooed the word ‘Doormat’ on my body. I considered myself fairly intelligent, even if undereducated and unmotivated, career wise. But I was a train wreck when it came to my love life. Every guy that I had ever fallen for, in my short but colorful twenty-six years, had used me, cheated on me, or stolen from me, if not all three. My most recent disaster of a relationship had ended, spectacularly, days before, when I walked into my apartment to find my boyfriend happily bouncing on the cock of my best friend. Oh. And what a wonderful excuse they had too: They had lost track of time. Fucking fantastic. Good riddance to them both.
I couldn’t figure out what it was about me that screamed ‘Pushover.’ At 6’3 and 190lb of solid muscle, it certainly wasn’t my appearance. I was intimidating to most people at my friendliest. When I was in a pissy mood, like now for instance, I was downright scary. I could have easily done something to minimalize that fact, like stopped shaving my head or covered up the ink on my arms, but truthfully, I cultivated the impression. It cut down on the number of times I was forced to use violence to do my job.
Seriously. It had to just be me. I was a nice guy, despite my appearance. But, for some unknown reason, I always seemed to get involved with users. And it wasn’t as if I could narrow down the problem to just one type of guy. I didn’t really have a type. The only thing my relationships all had in common was me. If there was an asshole within a fifty mile radius, I was completely attracted to him. Okay. I didn’t mean it that way, but the unintentional double-entendre made me chuckle. I still had a silly smile on my face when I left the gym and walked down the block to the salon to have my body punished some more, this time with wax.
“Are you going out tonight, Nash?”
“No,” I replied through clenched teeth. I could never figure out why she insisted on talking to me while my feet were in stirrups. As soon as Alli yanked the strip off, I exhaled and continued, “I work tonight.”
“Oh yeah,” she responded. “You work every weekend.”
“Not last night,” I admitted. “I called in sick.”
Her head popped into my view. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. I was just sick of my boyfriend cheating on me,” I explained.
Her eyebrows arched up in surprise. “Again?”
“Different boyfriend this time.”
She grimaced. “You need a better class of boyfriend.”
“Tell me about it,” I sighed.
I had been going to Alli to get waxed for years. She wasn’t very bright but she was damn good at her job. I had started going to her because she didn’t have a problem with working around my parts. In fact, most of her clients were gay men. Probably for the same reason that I went to her. I wanted a woman so that there’d be no chance of me getting aroused, and she was a lesbian so she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in me either. Her girlfriend was one of the hairdressers in the same salon, not that I had need of a hairdresser.
“I keep telling you that I know a great guy,” she mumbled as she went back to work on my nether region.
“Jesus, Gurl,” I huffed. “I’ve been single for three days. At least let me get the little prick’s stuff outta my place before you try to set me up with some new guy that’s going to fuck me over.”
“Well, just let me know when you’re ready,” she replied as she ripped another strip off. “I’ll set you guys up for a double date with me and Sarah. ‘Sides, Nick’s not going to fuck you over. He’s a keeper.”
“Nick?” I smirked. “That’s his name?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I could never date anyone named Nick. Think of how that would sound. Nick and Nash? That’s awful.” I laughed until she brutally ripped another strip off of a very sensitive area. I yelped and she gave me an evil smirk. Bitch.
After all was said and done, she left the room to let me dress. I always thought that was ridiculous. She’d been manhandling my bits for a while, and none too gently I might add. But somehow the act of dressing and undressing is more personal than spreading wide and letting her poke around in my privates. Anyway… I love slipping into my clothes when I’m freshly waxed. The sensation of anything brushing against my over-sensitized skin gives me a cheap thrill. It doesn’t matter if it’s denim, cotton, leather, or silk. Not that I own much silk. If given the opportunity, I’d rub my newly hairless body all over anything or anyone like a cat in heat. I’d probably be purring too.
On my way out, I passed Alli’s next client on his way in. Damn. He had to be a foot shorter than me, long, blonde hair, huge, blue eyes, pretty as a picture. Yum. I damn near put that cat in heat theory to the test. I guess three days was long enough to get over my cheating ex-boyfriend, whatever his name was.
**
“Nash!”
I turned at the sound of my name to see Alli stalking me like I was her prey. She was dressed to kill, in a barely there, red-plaid kilt, knee high, black leather, platform boots, and a skin-tight, solid black, babydoll t-shirt. Her short, pixie cut was white-blonde instead of the cherry-red it had been when I had seen her earlier.
“What are you doing here, Gurl?” I shouted over the loud thumping of the house music, giving her a brief hug.
“Sarah and I came to dance,” she explained, looking decidedly guilty.
I glanced around the nightclub. “Where’s Sarah?”
She waved her hand in the general direction of the front door. “She’s coming. Don’t be mad.”
“Mad? Mad about what?” I asked right before I caught sight of Alli’s girlfriend dragging a very uncomfortable looking guy by the hand behind her.
Sarah was a vision with her long, wheat-blonde hair contrasting sharply against her all black outfit. She had a knockout body completely on display. With the exception of her opaque, chiffon sleeves and boots similar to what her girlfriend was wearing, she basically looked like she was dressed for yoga, in painted-on tights and a skimpy sports bra. The guy she was manhandling was a different story.
I arched my eyebrow at Alli. “Is that who I think it is?”
She had the good sense to look embarrassed. “Well, if the mountain won’t come to Mohammad…”
“I think you have that backwards.” I patted her on the shoulder condescendingly while I attempted to school my features into something along the lines of friendly but not flirtatious.
“Nash, Nick. Nick, Nash.” Sarah shoved her reluctant burden in my direction then grabbed Alli’s hand and dragged her off toward the dance floor.
Nick ducked his head and shoved his hands in his front pockets. “Well this isn’t awkward at all,” he mumbled. Or that’s what it sounded like under the blaring music.
Okay. So I know that I’ve said that I didn’t really have a type, but, if I did, Nick would definitely not be it. He was about average height and weight, with raven-black hair cut into that typical primary school haircut for boys; something just this side of too squared to be considered a bowl cut. He was wearing comfortable jeans and tennis shoes, a green Marvin the Martian t-shirt, and an open red-plaid flannel over it. And he was wearing glasses. Bad tortoiseshell ones that appeared to be circa 1985. Contrary to popular belief, not all gay men have fashion sense, but come on. He was in the hottest gay nightclub in the city and he looked like he was dressed to be spending a lazy Sunday on the couch, reading a novel.
“Hey, Nick,” I shouted. “Good to meet you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry about this. It wasn’t my idea.”
I smiled at him. It obviously wasn’t his idea. He clearly didn’t want to be there. “It’s fine. It’s not a problem. One can never have too many friends, right?”
He gave me a wry, lopsided grin. “Yeah.”
“Can I get you a drink?” I offered.
He shook his head. “Thanks but I don’t drink.”
Of course he didn’t. He had probably never partied or had casual sex either. Hell, he most likely still lived in his parent’s basement.
“Nash!” I turned my head to see the number one reason that I had called in sick the night before slinking his way over to me. He looked good. Damn good. But then, that was his job. He was a dancer at the club. I know that you’re not supposed to dip your pen in the company inkwell but that’s me. I’m an idiot. I couldn’t help but check him out. He was shirtless, his trim and defined body glistened, and his ultra-low-rise jeans were riding even lower than the manufacturer ever intended in order to give just enough of a peek of his well-groomed bush so that you knew his gorgeous, strawberry-blonde hair, artfully disarrayed, was his natural color.
“What do you want, Bry?” I asked, trying to appear as if I had absolutely no interest in the answer.
“I just wanted to know if it’s okay for me to pick up my stuff after work tonight.”
No apology. No nothing. Fucker. “What stuff?” I huffed.
He tilted his head at me in a pointless and disingenuous attempt to appear sympathetic. “Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?” I snarled. “Pissed off that I walked in on MY boyfriend fucking MY best friend on MY couch? I shouldn’t be pissed off about that?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think you’d care. It’s not like I was getting any from you. You hadn’t touched me in a week.”
A week? Was that true? Probably. I’d had to postpone my waxing appointment because I was short on funds until I got my check. I had a tendency to shut down sexually if I didn’t feel good about myself. But still… “You couldn’t go a week without getting your ass reamed?” I was getting out of control and I knew it. I was letting him get to me. I needed to step back and get a grip before we both got fired. “You know what?” I fished around in my pocket for the last of the spending money from my paycheck. “Here,” I said, shoving the hundred dollar bill down the front of his jeans. “Buy yourself a dildo so you can go fuck yourself.”
“Nash?” Nick stepped up beside me and snaked his arm around the back of my waist. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your… friend?” The heavy sarcastic drawl on the word friend effectively turned the word into an insult.
I was speechless. One because I had totally forgotten that he was even there, and two because I had no clue what the hell he was doing.
“I’m Nick,” he continued when I obviously wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m Nash’s boyfriend. And you are?”
“Bryce.”
“Oh,” Nick drawled. He scanned Bryce’s body with a look of such distain that I was actually surprised Nick didn’t vomit on Bry’s shoes. I doubt that Bryce had ever been so degraded in his life.
Bryce dug around in the front of his jeans for the bill I had stuffed there. “Here,” he snapped, shoving the money into my hand. “You’re obviously not as injured as you’re pretending to be. I’ll be by after work to get my things.”
I was both confused and amused, watching Bryce flounce off toward the dancer’s locker room. The second that he was out of sight, Nick released the grip he had on my hip and stepped away from me.
“Sorry,” he slipped his hands in his pockets and hunched in on himself, back to his original persona. “I couldn’t resist. I can’t stand cheaters.”
“Holy shit,” I laughed. “Don’t apologize. That was classic. Thank you.”
“Yeah?” He shot me that lopsided grin again.
“You realize what you’ve done though? Now you have to come home with me tonight. He’ll know it was all bullshit if you’re not there when he shows up.”
He shrugged. “Okay. I don’t have any other pressing engagements.”
I smiled at him. “Okay. Let’s get you situated somewhere with a coke or something. I need to get back to work before they start screaming at me.”
**
Nick looked around at my living room when we walked in the door. My apartment wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a standard, one bedroom, urban box, but I had lived there for years and liked it. The furniture was half-decent and all matched, I had a nice, mid-range entertainment system, and the complex had some good amenities, like a fully equipped weight room, pool, and laundry rooms. There was also a box on the coffee table full of Bryce’s shit.
“Would you like a coke or something?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of whiskey.
“Whatever you have is fine,” he replied. “So this is it, huh? The scene of the crime? Is that his?”
I glanced at Nick and he was pointing at the box. I nodded.
“That’s a nice box,” he said.
I squinted at him. It was an old, battered, Smirnoff case that I had found lying around, repurposed from work for one reason or another.
“Got any trash bags?” he smirked.
I chuckled, “Yeah.”
He picked up the box and followed me into the kitchen where I grabbed a bottle of coke out of the fridge for him and a trash bag. He held the bag open while I unceremoniously dumped all of Bryce’s left-behind clothes and toiletries in it. I watched as he tied it off and set it on the floor. We made our way back to the living room and sat on either ends of the couch.
“Did you clean this?” he asked, running his hand over the leather of the couch cushion.
“Yes,” I laughed. I had actually scrubbed the entire apartment on Friday when I had gathered up his stuff to get rid of any reminders of Bryce, including the scent of him.
“Good,” he grinned at me. “This is a nice place.”
“Thanks. I like it. The walls are thick and the neighbors are quiet.”
“Can’t beat that,” he gifted me with a real smile for the first time and I realized that he was kinda cute.
“So how do you know Alli?” I asked.
He leaned back, draped one arm over the back of the couch, and crossed his legs. “Sarah’s my sister.”
I admit that I was shocked. “You don’t look anything alike.”
He shook his head and took a drink of his coke. “No. Half-sister. We have different mothers.”
“And you’re both gay,” I pondered out loud.
He nodded. “But there are five others that are all straight. Our father was a bit of a man whore. Seven kids with five different women. He only married three of them. My mother wasn’t one of the lucky ones. Or maybe she was, depending on your viewpoint. How about you? Any siblings?”
I nodded. “A brother and a sister but I don’t speak to them. I was disowned when I came out.”
He frowned. “That’s rough. I’m sorry.”
“You?”
“Nah. I was fifteen when I told my mother that I was gay. She just looked at me like, ‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Then she told me to go clean my room.”
I laughed. “That’s awesome. I love hearing about good coming-out stories. It’s a little hard for me to fathom, considering where I came from, but it’s nice to know that there are some good parents out there. What do you do for a living?”
He smirked at me. “I play video games.”
“Seriously?” I chuckled. “You get paid for that?”
He nodded. “I alpha test,” he elaborated. “It’s my job to try to break the game.”
“Damn,” I whistled. “How does someone get into that line of work?”
“You pretty much have to kill someone,” he joked. “Paying positions for game testers don’t come open very often.”
“I’d guess not.”
We talked for two hours. The conversation flowed freely and easily. He really listened to me, and not in that way that some people do when they’re trying too hard, hanging on your every word like a puppy. That always makes me nuts. He didn’t speak down to me either. Lots of people equate muscles with stupidity and treat me like a simpleton. He had a great sense of humor and could converse on every topic that came up. We hit on a wide range of subjects, including sports, music, politics, current events, and movies. He also had a wicked evil streak in him, which I discovered when Bryce finally deigned to make his appearance.
I was about four glasses of whiskey down when there was a knock on the door. I arched my eyebrow at Nick as I stood up to answer it.
“Wait!” he insisted quietly and bolted up from the couch. “Don’t answer until the second knock.”
I watched him duck into my bedroom, wondering what he had on his devious little mind. I took my time crossing the fifteen feet to the front door. I waited, as instructed, until the second knock before I opened the door to admit my ex.
“Oh. Bry,” I said, pretending to be surprised. “I forgot about you.”
He glowered at me but said nothing as he crossed the threshold. He glanced around and his eyes narrowed on the two discarded drinks on the coffee table. “Am I interrupting something?”
I rolled my eyes. “Wait here,” I ordered. “I’ll go get your shit.” I looked around as if I had forgotten where I’d left the bag.
Bryce crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance.
“Oh yeah!” I exclaimed. “Hold on.”
I stepped in the kitchen and took a minute to stifle my joy at Bryce’s discomfort. Then I picked up the trash bag and carried it back to the living room with my arm extended as if it was toxic. I nearly dropped the bag in shock at the vision that awaited me.
Nick was leaning, casually, one shoulder against the wall in the entrance to the hallway. He was barefoot and his jeans were unbuttoned and hanging precariously from his hips. He had obviously run a wet hand through his hair, mucking it all up to make it appear bed tousled from a serious round of fucking, and he had to of bitten his lips because they looked pink and swollen from kissing. He’d ditched the glasses and he was shirtless. And holy shit, he was ripped. His arms looked pumped, with the muscles and veins on the verge of busting though his unmarked and unblemished skin, as if he’d just finished a strenuous workout, when I knew damn good and well that he’d lifted nothing heavier than a twenty ounce bottle of soda in hours. His chest was a work of art. Everything, from his delts and pecs down to his washboard abs and obliques, was clearly delineated. He was sparsely coated in a well-groomed smattering of dark hair that didn’t detract from his physique at all, if anything, it accentuated it, complimented it. The black hair looked soft and more or less formed a swirl pattern around his pecs, creating a dark line down the center, bisecting his six-pack, and spreading out at his groin. He looked like a calendar pin-up. Actually, he was ridiculously hotter than any calendar models I had ever seen. I could not believe what had been hiding under all those frumpy clothes. He’d gone from geeky nerd to sex-on-legs in less than five minutes.
“Are you coming back to bed, Lover?” Nick’s sultry voice crooned in an erotic timber that hadn’t been in evidence before.
I grinned at him. “Oh yeah.” I didn’t even have to fake the moan in my voice. Just looking at Nick like that had all the blood in my body rushing somewhere south of my brain. I had to shake my head to clear it of the lust fog. “Here.” I pushed the bag at Bryce impatiently.
The expression on Bryce’s face was priceless. I wish I had thought to take a picture of it. Nick looked immeasurably hotter than Bryce could pull off even on his best days and Bryce knew it too. The man looked like he’d been poleaxed. He was so shocked that I doubt it even occurred to him to notice that I was still fully dressed. “Th… Thanks,” he stuttered.
“No problem.” I reached around him, opened the door, and essentially shoved him out it. “Goodnight, Bryce. See you around.”
As soon as I had the door firmly locked again, Nick moved into the living room and plopped down on the couch, snickering.
“That was…” I started.
Nick’s snicker grew into an actual laugh.
“Did you see his face?” I laughed as I joined him on the couch.
Nick scrunched up his nose. “No. I can’t see a damn thing without my glasses.”
“Can you see me, Nicky?” I purred seductively, sliding across the couch to close the distance between us. “Because I can sure as hell see you now.”
His eyes opened wide in shock as I cupped his face and captured his lips in a kiss. He hesitated for a brief moment before he moaned softly and granted me the access that I was seeking.
Fuck! The man could kiss. He had my entire body tingling just from the way his tongue caressed and stroked mine. I couldn’t wait to find out how his kissing skills translated into sucking cock. I didn’t want to wait either. I was frantic to get his mouth on me, and even more so, to taste him. I wasn’t unfamiliar with this desperation that I was feeling. It’s what always happened to me when I got enough alcohol in me. I was like the real life version of the Blonde Mating Call joke; ‘I am sooo drunk.’ Pour some whiskey down my throat and I’d pretty much fuck anything. And I do mean anything: guy, girl, mailbox… whatever.
But that wasn’t what was going on. I wasn’t anywhere near drunk enough to start humping inanimate objects. Four drinks in two hours, I had a really nice buzz. That’s it. This was just about the way Nick made me feel. To be honest, if he hadn’t come out of the bedroom doing an impersonation of a five star dessert, I might have been happy to be very good friends with him. But he did. Now I wanted more. I wanted it all.
I broke off from the kiss, moving my mouth down to his neck. He was panting and grasping at my upper arms. “Fuck me,” he moaned when I discovered an ultrasensitive spot on his throat.
“Getting there,” I murmured against his skin. He smelled amazing, clean heat and spice. I was anxious to get my face down to where his musk would be strongest. “Wanna taste you first.”
“Not here,” he groaned. “Bed. Please.”
I reluctantly peeled myself off of him and stood, offering him a hand up. It took him a second to focus before he grabbed my hand and let me pull up upright. I led him back to the bedroom without bothering to adjust my trapped erection. There was no need; I’d be shedding my clothes in seconds. Once we were in the bedroom, I dropped his hand and sat on the edge of the bed to unlace my boots. I looked up from my task to see him chewing on his bottom lip.
“Are you nervous, Nicky?” I asked, yanking off one boot and starting on the laces of the other. “I’m not going to push you into anything that you’re not ready for.” He could be a virgin for all I knew, but I didn’t think so. At least, I didn’t think so anymore, not after experiencing his kisses.
“Are you strictly a top, Nash?” he finally spit out as I pulled off the second boot and set it on the floor next to his hastily cast-off clothing, including a pair of Batman boxers that made me grin.
I reached for the fasteners on my jeans and stood up to facilitate the removal of my clothes. “I’m versatile. I’ll be anything you want me to be,” I told him.
“I want to fuck you,” he stated with conviction.
I smiled. It had been a long time since anyone wanted to take charge of me. “I’d like that, Nicky”
He rewarded me with his trademarked lopsided grin. “Yeah?”
I pulled off my t-shirt and nodded. “I enjoy receiving. I just don’t get to do it very often so I’m gonna need some prep.”
He arched his eyebrows in a lascivious manner. “Okay.”
“But I really want to taste you first,” I told him as I dropped my pants, slid my boxer-briefs down my hips, and stepped out of them. “And I’m dying to feel your mouth on me.”
His eyes slowly scanned over my naked and aroused form. I watched his body twitch in response.
“Can you see me from over there, Nicky?” I taunted as I wrapped a firm grip around my shaft and stroked it slowly. “Do you want to come closer?”
He smirked. “Yeah, I can see large things, Nash. But I think coming closer is still a great idea.” He unzipped his jeans and let them fall to the floor. He gracefully stepped out of them and closed the distance between us, plastering his body to mine. He was much closer to my height than I had estimated in the club. He was either standing up straighter or my esteem of him was greater, possibly a combination of both.
“Are you calling me large?” I teased.
He slipped his hand between our bellies and encircled my length, taking up stroking me where I had left off. “Yes,” he husked.
“But you can’t see me like this.” I pointedly glanced down to our chests firmly pressed together. “And I can’t see you. But I know a way to resolve that.”
I placed a quick kiss on his lips before I slid down his body. He took a sharp intake of breath when I rested my lips on his cockhead. I looked up at him. Fuck, he was sexy. I had a lot more mass than he did but, for his frame, his body was sheer perfection. I didn’t know how bad his eyesight really was but he was looking down at me and his gaze locked with mine. “Breathe, Nicky,” I urged.
He let out the breath he was holding. I smiled at him and snaked my tongue out to give him a gentle lick.
“Stop teasing me, Nash,” he groaned.
I could feel the heat and moisture leaching from his swollen cock onto my lips. The scent of him alone was making me insane with need. I licked him again and his breath hitched. “Beautiful,” I husked. I inhaled deeply and took him into my mouth. His loud moan filled my ears at the same time that the feel and taste of him flooded my mouth. All of my senses were inundated with the stunning man before me, causing my dick to throb and a moan to rumble through my chest.
“Oh fuck yes,” he hissed as I swirled my tongue around his head to get as much of his flavor as possible. His dick was the perfect size to fill my mouth a hair’s breadth past the point of comfort. He was long enough to slide deep down my throat and I moaned again at the thought that I was soon going to be feeling it sliding deep into my ass.
He was panting and shuddering while I worked him with my mouth. I loved the taste of his pre-cum exploding on my tongue. He was sweet with none of the bitterness and very little of the acidic flavor that I was accustomed to. But then, he didn’t drink or smoke so that undoubtedly had a lot to do with that. I was enjoying every moment of worshiping his cock and I was disappointed when he tapped me on the shoulder to make me stop.
“Please,” he husked. “I want to play too.”
I hollowed out my cheeks and slid his dick out of my mouth with a soft pop. “Bed?” I suggested. He nodded and held his hand down to help me up. We got on the bed and he immediately straddled my thighs. He looked astounding on his knees over me like that. His muscles were tensing and flexing and I was mesmerized by the sight of his tight abdominals roiling and undulating under his skin. “Love the view,” I grinned.
He smirked, “Me too.” He wrapped his fingers around the base of my shaft with the perfect amount of pressure and slowly stroked up, causing my eyes to roll back in my head. “How big is this thing?”
“Eight inches,” I admitted. “My best attribute.”
His glance shifted up to my face. He squinted at me but I couldn’t tell if it was because he was annoyed or he just couldn’t see very well. “Your best attribute is your heart, Nash,” he sighed. “Your beautiful body, face, and cock are just the shell that houses your beautiful heart.”
I melted a little at his words. Not my cock, of course. That just got harder. “Come here,” I insisted, holding out my arms. He laid his upper body down on top of mine with his head on my shoulder. I tilted his face up and kissed him. I meant for it just to be a tender kiss but it quickly escalated into a passionate melding of mouths and tongues.
I rolled us so I was on top and broke the kiss. I caressed his face, feeling the light stubble along his jawline. “You’re an amazing man, Nick,” I whispered, staring into his lovely green eyes. “How has some man not snatched you up yet?”
He grimaced. “My ex cheated on me,” he admitted.
“He was an idiot,” I replied. “We should fix him up with my ex, what’s-his-face. Unless he’s still fucking my former best friend, whose name I suddenly can’t remember either.”
He chuckled softly. “With a girl,” he added, rolling his eyes.
My eyes shot open in surprise. “Your ex-boyfriend ditched you for a girl?”
He nodded with a wry smirk. “They got married.”
I laughed. I tried not to but I couldn’t stop it. “Wow. I hope she doesn’t mind sharing.”
He shook his head. He was trying to keep a straight face but I could tell that he was fighting laughing. “She doesn’t know. She thinks he’s straight.”
“Oh man.” I was laughing so hard that I was forced to roll off him. “I feel sorry for her but he’s an asshole and an idiot.”
“Yeah. It’s taken me a long time to get over it. I haven’t been with anyone since.”
I looked over at him beside me. “How long?”
“Ten months. They got married three months ago.”
I turned to my side, facing him, and touched his face again. “So are you? Over it, I mean. Are you ready to move on?”
He stared into my eyes with none of the squinting or confusion that I’d noticed before. I was definitely close enough that he could see me clearly. “I think so,” he replied, chewing on his bottom lip. “With the right person.”
I wanted to be that person for him but this was typical behavior for me: meet someone, fall into bed, make impassioned promises to each other in the heat of the moment, and then get fucked over. It was my standard playbook. So I didn’t say what I wanted to. Instead, I leaned up over him and kissed him. I tried to convey all the tenderness and affection that I felt for him in that kiss but his kisses were so unbelievably sensual that it morphed into scorching sexual fire.
Our hands were all over each other before we broke the kiss and wrestled over which one of us was going to get their mouth on the other. I was stronger but he wanted to dominate me so I let him. He moved his mouth down my body, hitting all my pleasure zones along the way. He had me panting and writhing from the attention that he lavished on my chest and nipples. His mouth! Fuck! All that expertise in kissing most assuredly equated to an exceptional cocksucking ability. The man had mad skills. He was making me feel things that I didn’t know were possible and I’ve been around the block a few times. I really wanted to bury my nose in the light sprinkling of chest hair he had. I wanted to suckle on his nipples and tongue fuck his navel. I never got a chance to get my mouth past his neck. But I forgot all of that when his gorgeous, soft lips wrapped around my cock. It took every ounce of willpower to hold back from coming the second my cock slid into his warm, wet mouth. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to flip into a sixty-nine position, but his mouth and tongue were producing such glorious sensations that I couldn’t even concentrate on the job I was trying to perform.
“Oh fuck, Nicky,” I groaned. “You’ve gotta stop. You’re going to make me come.”
My desperate plea and the fact that I had stopped sucking on him didn’t deter him in the slightest. He was going to take me over the edge. He knew it, I knew it, so I quit fighting it. It was a good thing that I hadn’t had his dick in my mouth. My body seized and thrashed as liquid fire burned a path down my spine, up my length, and into his wicked mouth. The intensity of my orgasm stole all the oxygen in me and left me gasping and heaving for breath.
He continued to nurse on me while my breathing returned to normal until he was satisfied that he’d gotten the whole of my emission. The sheen of sweat already coating both of our bodies made for a slick slide of his body across mine. I looked up at him as he settled on his knees on either side of my head.
“Open your mouth, Nash,” he commanded, gripping my chin and tilting my head back. A frisson of desire spiked up my spine at the steel in his voice and the rough handling of my face. I absolutely loved for my partner to take the lead during sex. I wasn’t into all that BDSM stuff, and there was no way in hell that I’d just bend over and take someone ordering me around in my day to day life, but get me in bed… Hmm, yeah. Bending over and taking it is exactly what I wanted to do. I had no problem assuming the role of a top. And, honestly, most of my lovers were bottoms, but, every once in a while, I just wanted to be manhandled, ravaged, and fucked.
I moaned in bliss around his cock as he shoved it down my throat. He had just the right amount of force to make his dominance crystal clear without actually hurting me. I could have gotten away from him at any time. We were both very well aware of that fact. Since I made no move to do such, and with my moans encouraging him, he began to thrust harder. I reached up and cupped his high, tight ass, driving him on. He was a vocal lover. His deep, rumbly moans, telling me that I was pleasing him, thrilled me to the core. He was plunging deep down my throat and denying me the sweet taste of his pre-cum. Even after such a breathtaking orgasm, I was so turned on by what he was doing to me that my cock filled so rapidly that it ached.
His steady thrusts soon lost their rhythm. His body jerked and he rammed his dick down my throat one last time. He cried out and dropped to his hands on either side of my hips as his body shuddered and his cock pulsed in my mouth. Fuck! He was coming straight down my throat! I frantically pushed at his hips to get him to pull back some. He took the hint and withdrew enough to let the last volley of his sweet cum splash across my tongue.
He wasn’t going soft so I continued to suckle on his cockhead, attempting to milk him for every last drop. While he panted heavily over me, trying to catch his breath, I let my fingers drift down his crack, found his hole, and gently rubbed it with my fingertip.
He chuckled breathily, “Are you trying to tell me something, Nash?”
I let his dick slide out of my mouth and kissed his shaft.
He kissed my belly then swung his knee around my head and dropped down beside me on the bed. “Do you have condoms?” he asked. “Lube?”
“Umm, yeah.” I rolled over onto my belly and reached for the bedside table. I started to roll back over with the items he’d requested but he stopped me.
He crawled on top of me, straddling my thighs again. “Stay like that,” he said, pushing my shoulder back down. He let his fingers trail down my back then bent over and kissed my spine right between my shoulder blades. “You are so fucking sexy,” he murmured against my back.
“My back gets you hot?” I joked, my voice muffled by the bedding.
“Everything about you gets me hot, Nash.” He reached up and took the bottle of lube and condoms out of my hand before he kissed and licked a blazing trail down my spine. The scruff on his chin was setting all my nerve endings alight. “You’re a beast.”
I chuckled. “A beast that you’d like to tame.”
“Hmm, yes.” He licked the base of my spine. “You taste so good.” His breath huffed across my hole as he parted my cheeks with his hands.
He swiped his tongue over my entrance and my hips came off the bed involuntarily. “Oh fuck,” I moaned. “More!”
He let out a throaty chuckle and my sphincter twitched at the caress of his warm breath. He gave me several more teasing licks before he wrenched my hips higher and got down to the business of orally pleasuring my fuckhole. Holy Fuck. The things that man was doing to me were making me see stars. White lights were flashing on the back of my closed eyelids and my head was swimming from pure unadulterated ecstasy. I never wanted him to stop eating me out. That is, until he slipped a finger inside me. Then I just wanted him to fuck me raw.
“You’re so fucking tight, Nash.” He had two fingers in me and I could feel them gliding in and out, massaging my channel, and rubbing my prostate. I was gasping and clawing at the bedding below me. I would have responded but I was beyond coherent speech. “When you said it had been a long time, I didn’t think that you meant never.”
He pushed a third finger in me and I hissed. He paused, letting me adjust and giving me the chance to string some words together in English. “Not a virgin,” I croaked out. It wasn’t exactly verbose but it was the best I could do at the time and it got my point across.
He took that as his queue to start moving his fingers again. “Are you sure that you want to do this?”
I pushed my upper body up with my hands and pressed back against his questing digits, moaning loudly, “Fuck me, Nicky.”
He hesitated. “I don’t want to damage you.”
I growled and bumped back into him harder. “Now.” He chuckled softly. My impatience was amusing him. Wonderful. “Please, Nicky,” I begged. “I need you.”
His fingers halted all movement for a moment. I was terrified that he was going to refuse and leave me high and dry with this powerful need. Then he withdrew his fingers and I heard the tearing of the foil packet. I didn’t think it was possible but my desire spiked even higher at the unmistakable sound. The few seconds that it took for him to prep himself seemed like an eternity.
He eased his way into me and I dropped my head down on the bed, grit my teeth, and huffed through the pain.
“Jesus, you feel so incredibly amazing,” he groaned. “If you weren’t so fucking tight, I’d be pounding the ever-loving fuck out of you right now.”
“Do it,” I ground out through my teeth. “I can take it.”
“No, you can’t, Lover,” he said softly. The obvious affection in his voice washed over me like a balm. He flattened his palm out on my back and gently rubbed me in soothing circles. “Relax, Nash. Let me take care of you.”
I should have taken his advice. I was known for my patience and calm demeanor in a crisis, but this man was tripping all of my triggers and making me bat-shit crazy with lust. He was already the best lover that I had ever had and we had barely gotten past the point of oral. He obviously knew what he was doing but I was needy and anxious. I tried to rock back into him to force him to fuck me or, at the very least, to fuck myself on his cock. He gripped my hips and held me still. His fingers were digging into my flanks with enough pressure to bruise, so unless I wanted to fight with him, I was going to have to wait.
We waited.
I don’t know what kind of indication he was looking for but, whatever it was, he must have gotten it. He began short, gentle thrusts that slowly lengthened until he was longdicking me. It felt so fucking good. It had been a very long time since I’d been fucked but I couldn’t remember it ever feeling as fantastic. I could feel each and every inch as he burrowed inside me, stretching me, filling me in the steady rhythm of a heartbeat. After a couple of minutes, he shoved my body down flat, straddled my hips, and violently plunged his full length into me. The very first drive slammed into my prostate and I shouted out my pleasure.
“Fuck yes, Nash,” he crooned. “Scream for me.”
I did. My moans and cries were easily loud enough to mask the crude slap of skin on skin and the sloppy wet squelch of his thick rod wrecking my hole. The sounds coming out of me were primal and wild. I didn’t even recognize myself. I was so drunk on pleasure, my body was wracked with it, convulsing and quivering like never before. Every molecule in my body was alive with sensation as he brutally drilled into my sweet spot, over and over. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me as he plundered and pounded into me. By the time I slipped my hand under my stomach and took ahold of my leaking, achy prick, I barely had time to get my fingers around it before I exploded, screaming as I shattered into millions of pieces. He tripped immediately after I did.
He yelled one long, drawn out, “Fuck!” Then he collapsed on top of me, his chest flush with my back.
We lay there for some time, desperately trying to reconnect with reality. He could lie on top of me forever. I didn’t care. I loved having his weight on me, feeling him crush me into the mattress. I keened softly when he raised up and slowly withdrew from my channel.
“Are you okay?” His breathy whisper huffed across my ear.
“No,” I replied, just as quietly. “Pretty sure that I died because this has got to be Heaven.”
His chuckle was broken from the lack of being able to draw a complete breath. “I don’t think they have to use condoms in Heaven.”
He kissed me gently on the back of my shoulder. I turned my head to watch him climb off me and sit on the edge of the bed to remove the offending article in question. “You prefer to bareback?”
He tied off the rubber and glanced up at me. “I don’t know. I never have. Have you?”
“Yes.” I explained, “My first boyfriend. We were together for a year before he stole a bunch of my shit and split.”
He grimaced and tossed the spent latex in the wastebasket. “We both know how to pick them, don’t we?”
“Will you stay the night?” I asked.
He looked surprised. “Do you want me to?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’d really like that.”
I had to smile at his quirky grin. He glanced up at the dawn’s light peeking around the edges of the dark curtained window. “The night is about over.”
I shook my head again and shifted my exhausted body enough to both get under the covers and to give him room. “It’s not morning until we wake up.”
He slipped under the blankets, rolled onto his side facing away from me, and scooted backwards until his back rested against my chest, taking the place of the little spoon.
I reached behind me for the remote on the nightstand, turned off the overhead light, and turned on the ceiling fan. Setting down the remote, I snuggled Nick’s body into mine and kissed the shell of his ear. “Goodnight, Nicky.”
**
I woke up slowly and opened my eyes to see that Nick had rolled away from me in his sleep. He was face down on the bed beside me with his head facing the other direction and his arms and legs splayed out like a starfish, taking up far more than his fair share of the bed. I couldn’t help but smile.
I glanced at the clock. It was barely past ten. I’m an early riser. I always have been. Early being a relative term based on the fact that I work until nearly three. However, I’m not, by nature, a gracious morning person. But waking up with Nick in my bed definitely made me happy, even if I couldn’t see his gorgeous face. I was always the first one awake in the morning when I still lived with my estranged family. Which had meant that it was my responsibility to make the coffee. I leaned over to softly kiss the back of Nick’s exposed shoulder and carefully climbed out of bed so as not to wake him.
After padding into the kitchen to start the coffee brewing, I went to take a shower and wash the evidence of the night’s activities off my body. I was running my fingertips over my scalp, followed by the razor when I found any errant stubble, when there was a quiet tap on the bathroom door.
“It’s open,” I called out.
The chilled air filling the room as the door was pushed open gave me goosebumps. “I’m sorry. Can I come in? I need to go.”
“Of course,” I replied through the curtain. “Just please don’t flush.”
His warm chuckle echoed slightly just before I heard the splash of his urine stream hitting the bowl. I froze, hardly breathing, just listening to the sound of him pissing. I don’t know why it turned me on but it did. I’d never been aroused by the act of another man answering the call of nature before but this man did things to me that I didn’t understand and couldn’t even begin to evaluate. I took a shuddering breath at the sound of the final trickle and splash. I was back to checking the back of my scalp when he nudged the curtain.
His voice seemed a little hesitant as he asked, “Can I join you?”
He sounded like the timid man I had met at the beginning of the night and I hoped that I wasn’t going to have to cajole him back into the confident man that had shared my bed. “Sure. Be my guest.”
I stepped back against the back wall of the shower to let him get under the spray. He moaned in delight as the hot water rained down over his perfect body. He tilted his head back and combed his fingers through his hair, wetting it under the spray. I just watched as the water careened down his sculpted chest and abs in rivulets. I had the urge to chase it with my tongue.
My voice cracked as I husked, “You’re really incredibly beautiful.”
He tilted his chin back down to look at me. “Thank you.” His eyes scanned down my body slowly, lingering on my growing arousal, which just had the effect of making it swell further. He smirked wryly and raised his heated gaze back to mine. “I thought you were one of Alli’s clients.”
It took me a second, due to lack of blood to the brain, to figure out that he was talking about me shaving. I nodded. “Neck down. I can’t imagine letting Alli at my face. She’s not the gentlest of touches. And I don’t know anyone who has their scalp waxed. I can’t even imagine how painful that would be.”
He laughed, “But you let her wax your balls?”
I grinned. “She numbs that area first.”
He sniffed the body wash before he poured some into his hand. “I guess the chance of you having shampoo is nil, huh?”
I laughed. “Yeah. Sorry. Shampoo and conditioner are an expense that I don’t have to worry about. But I more than make up for it with the cost of razors.”
Watching him rub his hands all over his body, lathering himself up, was making my dick throb. If I hadn’t been so sore I would have turned around and begged for him to take me again. I still couldn’t resist the temptation that he presented. I set my razor down and slipped my hands around his waist, plastering my body to his. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around my shoulders while I indulged in rubbing my body against his slick and soapy one. He didn’t think it was funny anymore when I encircled both our shafts with my hand and stroked us together.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “That feels amazing.”
“Yeah it does,” I agreed, burying my face in his neck. I lightly sucked on the skin at the juncture of his shoulder as I pressed our hard cocks together and tugged on them with strong, sure strokes.
He began thrusting into my hand in moments. “Not going to last,” he husked. “Feels too good.”
I was fine with that. I wasn’t going to last very long anyway. “Come for me, Nicky,” I purred.
I continued to stare into his stunning face as I brought us both over the edge with my hand. Fuck. His sex noises were so fucking sexy. He moaned and gasped and growled akin to that of a wild beast. Balancing on the edge, his head fell back with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted. He roared as his body jerked and shuddered when he shot his essence into my hand. I was getting close, and the expression on his face as I pleasured him, a combination of intensely carnal and seductively ethereal, tripped me unexpectedly. My orgasm wasn’t any stronger than the quick release that I normally gave myself in the shower every morning, but making him fall apart in my arms more than made up for that fact.
He watched while I brought my hand up and licked our combined ejaculate off it. His cum tasted so divine that I felt my loins begin to stir again. I rewashed my body while he leaned against the shower wall, recovering and staring at me intently. He studied me as if I was a puzzle that he just couldn’t quite make sense of. Even his scrutiny caused the blood to heat in my veins.
“I should get out of here,” I told him. “Otherwise, we’ll spend all day in here doing that.”
His laugh sounded like a wheeze as he struggled for air. “I’ll die.”
I wiggled my eyebrows at him. “What a way to go.”
“Yeah,” he nodded and grinned.
**
I was dressed, leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking my second cup of coffee, when he made his way into the kitchen. He was back in his ill-fitting clothes with his hair wet and slicked back. He’d only taken his first sip of coffee when I had an idea.
“I’d like to thank you for last night.”
He arched an eyebrow at me with a smirk.
“Not that,” I snickered. “For your help with that guy whose name that I can’t recall.”
He leered at me. “I think you thanked me sufficiently last night… and a few minutes ago.”
“Yeah well, I’ve got something else in mind.” I snatched the cup out of his hands and set it in the sink.
“Hey!” he grumbled. “I was drinking that.”
“I’ll buy you a latte on the way,” I promised, grabbing his hand. “Come on.”
I practically had to drag him out of the apartment. He groused and complained until we drove through a drive-thru and he had a new cup of coffee in his hands. Then he settled down and resigned himself to whatever I had planned for him.
Parking was at a premium in the shopping district so I was forced to park in front of the gym. “Is this your gym?” he asked.
I nodded as I got out of the car. “Yes.”
He got out of the passenger side and joined me on the sidewalk. “Are we going to work out?”
I chuckled. “No. Come on.”
I started walking down the block toward the salon. He caught up quickly. “I’d rather not get waxed,” he joked, correctly guessing where we were headed but not the reason why. “I’m not that much of a masochist.”
I just laughed and kept walking.
“Are you busy?” I asked Sarah as soon as we found her in the crowded salon.
She glanced around at the standing-room only crowd. “Not a bit,” she drawled sarcastically, proving undeniably that she and Alli were perfect for each other. “Why?”
I reached behind me and pulled Nick forward by the hand. “I want you to do something with this,” I joked. “His hair needs serious help.”
Her face lit up as if she’d just won the Publisher’s Clearing House. “I’ll make time for that!” she exclaimed with glee.
“Oh no!” Nick replied with a panicked voice. “She’ll dye my hair green!”
“Come on, Nick!” she pleaded. “It’ll match your eyes!”
I laughed. “No dye,” I told her sternly. “I love the color of his hair. Just a wash and cut. Something modern and not drastic. The seventies bowl cut has got to go.”
She clapped her hands together like an excited kid. “Awesome! I’ve been dying to get my shears in his hair for months! Come on, brother mine. You’ve got a date with my chair.” She grabbed him by the hand and dragged him toward the sinks. He glanced back at me with a desperate and pleading expression.
“You’ll be fine,” I promised. “I won’t let her give you a Mohawk or anything.”
All-in-all, Nick was a pretty good sport about it. Sarah did an excellent job. She gave him a variation of a typical business professional haircut, but left it a little longer on top so that locks fell artfully over his brow. It was a fantastic style for him. It brought attention to the beauty of his face, highlighted his strong jawline and high cheekbones, and made his emerald green eyes pop. Now we just needed to do something about those awful glasses and the dreadful clothes.
We got back to the car and I couldn’t stop staring at him.
“Thank you,” he said. “I guess I needed that.”
I grinned, “Yeah. A little. But don’t thank me yet. We’re not done. Would you rather head to the optometrist first or the clothing stores?”
“Optometrist?” he asked.
“Probably better. They close earlier.” I studied his face. “I’m thinking wired rimmed. What do you think?”
His brow furrowed and he chewed on his lip for a minute. “What are you doing, Nash?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do like you,” I responded, confused.
“No, you don’t,” he argued, quietly. He was perfectly calm but his voice was poignant and laced with distress. “You’re trying to change me into one of the pretty boys that you like to date. I’ll give you the haircut. My hair was a disaster. But the glasses? The clothes? This is me, Nash. I’m happy with who I am. If you’re embarrassed to be seen with me, then don’t be. Nobody is forcing you to spend time with me. But don’t try to make me into something that I’m not in order to satisfy your ego.”
He opened the car door to get out. “Nicky, wait…”
He turned back to me. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll borrow Sarah’s car to get home. Thank you for last night. I enjoyed our time together. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
He climbed out and closed the door. He walked back down the block and I was too stunned and confused to get out and chase him.
**
I sat on my couch, staring at the floor. Could it be true? Was I really that shallow? It wasn’t even noon and I was seriously considering getting blind drunk. I had literally known the man for twelve hours and my apartment felt empty without him. I had never felt that way about anyone that I had ever dated before. I could look back on all my previous lovers and know that for a fact. I wanted them in my bed, and on my arm when we went out, but I had never wanted to just talk for hours or just be in the same room with them, doing nothing. When I did look back, I realized that Nick was right. I did have a type. It wasn’t about hair color or eye color or even skin color. The thing all my exes had in common was perfection. But their beauty was all surface. Window dressing. There wasn’t a single one of them that was fat or skinny. None of them had bad teeth or horrid style. Of the bunch, not one had a crooked nose or a crooked smile.
I loved that lopsided grin of his. Nick had depth and honor. He was intelligent and thoughtful. He was caring and sweet and he wasn’t afraid to show it. We connected on a visceral level and that was far more valuable than anything I had ever experienced before. It was everything. And I wasn’t about to sit around and let him slip through my fingers because I was too blind to see true perfection when it was staring me in the face.
**
He opened the door and my heart constricted in my chest. The intensity of the feelings that I had for him in such a short amount of time was overwhelming. I guess it’s true what they say, when you meet the right person, you just know it. Sometime within the past few hours since I had seen him last, he had changed clothes. He looked fucking adorable in pajama bottoms with Mario and Princess Peach on them and a t-shirt that read, “Gamers know how to use a Joy Stick.” He also wasn’t smiling. He didn’t look happy to see me at all.
“Don’t be mad,” I beseeched. “I had to threaten life and limb to get Sarah to give up your address.” I handed him the long-stemmed, red rose in my hand. “Here.”
He took it. “What’s this?”
“It’s an American Beauty.”
He smirked at the flower. “I meant, what’s it for?”
“It’s an apology,” I explained. “I’m sorry. You were right. I was trying to change you. But it’s not about you at all. Look, can I come in to explain?”
He nodded and stepped back to allow me entry. I got three steps inside the door before I froze. Holy shit. He lived in a condo, and I knew that it was a nice complex when I pulled up, but wow. His downstairs had to be twice the size of my entire apartment. I was stunned.
“Yes?” he prompted me to say what I had come to say.
I forced myself to snap out of it and get back to the reason that I was there. “I do like you, Nick. The person that I’m not overly fond of is me. I have some self-esteem issues and I have this need in me to be… wanted. I guess that’s right. I need to be envied and looked at and preened over. But I also want to be treated like I’m more than my looks at the same time. I know that’s fucked up and I’m sorry that I did that to you. I just kinda transferred all my insecurities onto you. The thing is, I want to be better. For you. I want to be with you. It’s wonderful that you don’t need to flaunt yourself. I envy that. It’s one of the many things about you that I’m so drawn to. And if I’m the only one that ever gets to see you looking like a sex god… well, there’s nothing to be upset about there. I promise you that I will never cheat on you. I will never intentionally lie to you. I will never use you or steal from you. So… If you can handle the fact that I need to have strangers, and sometimes friends, fawning over me in order to feel good about myself; If you can deal with me flirting, knowing that it will never, ever, cross the line into infidelity; If you’re willing to take a risk with me; I would be honored if you would consider me your boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” he grinned.
I nodded, “Please.”
He squinted at me. “Exactly how much flirting are we talking about here?”
I chuckled. “You’ve seen me at the club. Being flirty and friendly is in my job description. It won’t go past that. I promise. I’m not a cheater. I’ve been fucked over like that too many times to ever do something like that. I have this problem with too much imbibing leading to sex with random strangers, but even when I’m blind drunk, I don’t cheat. I’ve tested the theory.” He squinted at me again, disbelievingly, and I shrugged. “I’m loyal to the man that I’m dating. It’s just ingrained in me.”
He smiled. “Okay.”
“Okay?” My voice went up an octave in excitement. “Really?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Did you really think that I’d reject you?”
“Yeah,” I admitted with a smirk. “I kinda did. I even have dinner reservations for us because I thought I’d have to spend more time convincing you and I thought a nice dinner might sweeten the deal a little.”
He glanced over me, taking note of my plain white t-shirt, faded jeans, and steel-toed boots.
I smirked wryly, knowing exactly what he was thinking. “It’s not a fancy place. It’s a hole-in-the-wall Mexican joint. But they have the best tamales that I have ever eaten.”
“Oh my God,” he moaned. “How did you know?”
I shuddered at the sudden rush of heat to my groin at the sound of his moan. “Sarah told me it was your favorite food.”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Do I have time to change?” he asked, tugging on the bottom of his t-shirt and glancing down at his feet. “I don’t think they’ll let me in barefooted.”
I laughed. “Yes.”
He turned around and rushed up the stairs, shouting back over his shoulder. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time!” I yelled up to him. “Don’t hurt yourself!”
There was an excited bounce in my step as I wandered through the living room. I had never been so happy in my life. I really wanted chase him up the stairs and kiss him, but I knew that if I started that, we’d never make it to dinner. I attempted to distract myself by checking out his setup. He had a couch and two recliners, all in this soft suede, and everything was made of wood. Real wood, not the laminated particleboard in my apartment. He had bookshelves full of actual books, movies, and tons of video games. He also had a huge, flat-panel TV on the wall and four… count them, four… game consoles.
“You got reservations at a hole-in-the-wall?” he called down.
“Yes,” I replied. “It’s not a normal reservation for a table. I reserved food. It’s a first come, first served, but they only serve the tamales until they run out and they’re pretty popular. The owner also owns this bar that I like to hang out at. I got them to hold some for us as a special favor.”
“So we have time for you to follow me downtown so I can drop off Sarah’s car?”
“Sure. Not a problem. It’s on the way anyway.”
He was silent for a long while so I called up, “Do you work from home?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Four game consoles,” I explained.
“Oh.” I could hear the rumbly sound of his laughter. “That’s only part of it. The system is up here in the spare bedroom. It’s too much equipment for down there.”
I didn’t know enough about computers to figure out why a gaming system would need an entire room. I didn’t want to advertise my ignorance so I didn’t ask.
“Did you want to see it?”
I turned around at the sound of his voice coming down the stairs and nearly swallowed my tongue. He was wearing tennis shoes again but they were solid black this time. His jeans were low-rise, faded in all the right places, not tight, but just snug enough to show off his assets. Tucked into his jeans, he was wearing a solid black t-shirt that fit him like it was made for him. It didn’t put him on display but it was form-fitting enough to give a teasing impression of the incredible physique that lay underneath. He’d left the glasses behind, and he wasn’t squinting, so I assumed that he was wearing contacts. He was carrying a dark green button-down that I knew was going to compliment his eyes perfectly.
I couldn’t have stopped the moan of appreciation if I had wanted to so I didn’t bother to try.
He shot me his adorable crooked grin.
“You didn’t have to do this for me, Nicky.” My voice was so saturated with lust that the neighbors could probably hear it. “I meant what I said. I like you the way you are.”
He sighed with a sympathetic grin. “This is me, Nash. Look, last night I was dressed like that because yesterday was laundry day. I had taken out my contacts because I had every intention of falling asleep on the couch in front of a movie when Sarah and Alli showed up and dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the bar. My hair… well… Jim was my hairdresser. After he dumped me, I just started cutting my own hair. Sarah has been trying to do something about it for months but I was being stubborn. But, nonetheless, that was me too. And sometimes I like to get all dressed up in a nice suit and tie, but not often. It doesn’t change anything. I’m not always going to look good. I like to be comfortable and I’m essentially a nerd. I need to know that you’re okay with that. I can’t have a relationship where I’m constantly feeling the need to look a certain way or behave in an acceptable manner in order to make you like me. I’ll flip my shit and I’ll have to start taking anti-psychotics if I have to pretend to be someone that I’m not in order to be with you.”
I couldn’t stand the pain in his eyes, he looked so exposed and vulnerable. I stepped into his personal space and threaded my fingers through his hair. I pulled his face to mine so that the tips of our noses were brushing against each other. “Nicky.” His name left my lips on a breath of air. “I don’t give a rat’s ass what you wear. Yes, you are the sexiest man that I have ever met. But you impressed me with your mind and heart and soul first, not your body. You are an amazing man and I don’t ever want you to be anything except who you are. Yes. Everything that you said about me, that was true. All I ever saw was what was on the outside. But I’m not that way anymore. I’ve changed. You’ve changed me. You’ve opened my eyes and shown me what’s important. You make me laugh. You treat me like my thoughts and feelings and opinions matter. The first time in my life that I was ever truly happy was when I was just sitting on the couch with you taking about nothing and everything. And being with you has only made me happier every minute since. So be a nerd. I don’t care. As long as you’re MY nerd.”
“So you’d be okay if I wore a pocket protector and a bow tie?” he teased.
“Sure,” I grinned. “As long as it was all that you were wearing and the bow wasn’t tied around your neck.”
He laughed, “You’re such a dork.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “But I’m YOUR dork.”
“Yeah you are.” He tilted his head enough to bring our lips together in what he intended to be a gentle kiss. But I couldn’t resist his luscious mouth so I snaked my tongue out and licked his bottom lip. He moaned into my mouth and I was lost. His kisses set my body on fire with the raw sensuality of them. He had to be the one to break the kiss because I never would have. “Tamales,” he croaked.
“Oh yes,” I replied, remembering that we had somewhere to be. I entwined our fingers together and led him out the front door. “We should feed you now because I plan on spending the entire night working those calories off you.”
“Okay,” he chuckled. “But we’re coming back here. Your bed is as hard as a rock.”
“My bed’s not the only thing that’s as hard as a rock,” I teased.
“Good. I’ve got just the place for that,” he taunted.
I froze and pivoted on my heel to face him. “Seriously?”
He stopped walking, shifted on his feet, chewed on his bottom lip, and fidgeted with the shirt still in his hand. “Yeah. Is that okay?”
I moved in a rush and had my body pressed into his from neck to knees in less than a heartbeat. I dug my fingers into his silky hair and held on for life and my sanity. “You want me to top?” I crooned. “You want me inside you, Nicky?”
“Yeah. Is that okay?” he repeated.
“Holy fuck, Nicky.” My voice was so strained with desire that it sounded like someone else entirely. “That is so okay, I can’t even begin to tell you. I’ve never been with anyone who liked it both ways before. Everyone has either been a confirmed top or bottom. You are so fucking perfect for me.”
He rewarded me with his lopsided grin. “But, Nash, you’ve got a big dick, so you’re going to have to take it easy on me… At first.”
I growled, “I am so close to saying, ‘Fuck the tamales.’ and dragging your gorgeous ass back in the house to fuck that instead.”
He smirked. “You promised me tamales, Nash. Feed me first and then you can spend the rest of the night fucking me.”
I took a deep breath to try to calm the blood pounding through my system. I glanced up at the Heavens and shook my head. Either I wasn’t making myself clear or he needed the reassurance of hearing the words. I dropped my eyes back down and locked gazes with him so he’d have no lingering doubts about how much I meant what I was saying. “No, Nicky. We’ll feed you first and then we can spend the rest of our lives making love to each other. Okay?”
He chewed on his bottom lip for a second and then nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”