Accidentally in Love (23 page)
Read Accidentally in Love Online
Authors: Jane Davitt,Alexa Snow
Tags: #Romance, #M/M Contemporary, #Contemporary, #Gay, #Source: Amazon
“I want the jeans off now,” Cal said eventually. “Is that okay? And tell me if it isn’t. I’m used to working with professional models who don’t have any hang-ups about stripping down. That doesn’t mean that you have to do it.”
“I don’t mind.” Tom felt warm all over, as if Cal had been touching him lightly, whispering into his ear, not standing across the room. It wasn’t as if anyone besides the two of them would ever see the photographs, after all, and Cal had seen him naked already, at close range. “I’m wearing boxers with bright yellow smiley faces on, though. Do you want me to leave them on or lose them?”
Cal smiled at him fondly. “How about we keep them on for a few shots? They’ll be cute.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about cute. Aren’t we a little too old for cute?” Tom lifted his ass so he could slip the jeans free of his hips and kicked until they were completely off. Okay, that had ended up being more awkward than he’d expected, and now that he wasn’t wearing anything save his boxers, it was obvious that he had a huge erection.
“I like cute,” Cal said, snapping a photo. “Sometimes. I can keep from saying it if it
weirds
you out.”
“It might. Yeah, I’m taking these off. Sorry.” Tom could tell that Cal was taking more photos as he shed his boxers and stood beside the couch. “Should I sit? Or stand?”
“Sit, I think. With one hand on your thigh, to sort of emphasize—”
“That I’ve got a raging hard-on?” Tom asked ruefully.
“Well, yes, if you want to put it that way. You’re gorgeous like this, you know.”
“Don’t make me look like a porn star,” Tom begged him. “I really can’t carry that off by about three inches.”
Cal snorted. “Trust me, big isn’t always better. I once got talking to this guy in a bar—just talking, we didn’t hook up—”
“It’s okay,” Tom said. “I don’t mind if you did.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it was true enough. Denying the fact that Cal had a lot of notches on the bedpost would be silly.
“Well, we didn’t, but we had a few drinks and he told me that he could hit close to ten inches when he was hard, and that most of the time, it was a—”
“Pain in the ass?” Tom said with a grin he couldn’t suppress.
Cal laughed. “Yeah, exactly. He intimidated people or freaked them out, and he ended up on the bottom most of the time, and that wasn’t his thing.”
“Well, the last time I measured mine, I was fourteen,” Tom said, dropping his hand to his erection, glad of the excuse to touch himself and ease the ache a little. “…years old, that is.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Cal said with conviction. He winked. “You’re perfect. Big enough to make me howl at the moon.”
“What’s with sex and animal imagery, anyway?” Tom didn’t really care about the conversation that much. It was just nice to have something distracting him from
how
on display he was.
“I think it’s because it’s supposed to be a base need.” Stepping to his right, Cal took a few more photos. “You know, the way we’re still the same as animals. Can you slide your hand down a little farther, please?”
Tom did. “Like this? Do you seriously believe that?”
“It’s not what I believe; it’s about biology or whatever. Good. Now put one hand on your dick and the other kind of cupping your balls…” Cal sounded like he’d slipped into professional mode again, like he was talking about Tom’s elbow instead of his cock.
“If I come, are you going to keep taking photographs?” Tom couldn’t resist asking.
“Yes, but they’ll be of your face, and I can guarantee you won’t notice. I’ve seen you come. You throw yourself into it.”
“It feels good,” Tom said defensively, adjusting his grip and feeling a surge of arousal.
“No arguments here,” Cal assured him. “God, yes, I love it with your fingers curled like that…”
Tom gave up trying to distract Cal. In photographer mode, the man was one-track, and part of Tom could admire that single-mindedness. When Cal suggested that he stroke his hand on his dick, Tom didn’t even try to argue. Besides, it felt good, so why not? He never lost the knowledge that he was being photographed, so it was easy to keep his level of arousal from ratcheting too high. He moved his hand slowly, giving Cal plenty of opportunities to get different shots. It wasn’t until a bead of fluid formed at the tip that Cal groaned.
“Jesus, you’re turning me on. I can’t wait to put this down and get my hands on you.”
“Yeah?” Tom gave him a hopeful look. “So do it.”
“But you’re so gorgeous like this. I don’t want to miss anything.” Cal dropped down to one knee and took more pictures. Tom was pretty sure the focus was on his cock at this point.
“We can do this again. Tomorrow, if you want.”
“Tomorrow I have to get on a plane,” Cal reminded him. “God, I’ll miss you.”
Even though Tom wasn’t looking forward to their enforced separation, it was nice to hear he’d be missed. “Then when you get home. Would you just put the camera
down
?”
Cal did, and a moment later they were kissing, Tom’s bare erection rubbing against Cal’s slacks. It felt obscenely good. Weird, to be totally naked with his partner fully dressed, but good too. “Lie down,” Cal said urgently. “I want to suck you.”
Tom closed his eyes. He’d fantasized about this, an attractive man begging to go down on him, mouth eager. Hell, a few times, he’d pictured two guys on their knees servicing him. It’d gotten him aroused, it’d made him come with a grunt of pleasure and a smile, but he’d never had a personal experience to use as a comparison. Cal took breaks during a blowjob to catch his breath or peel a hair off his tongue. Cal’s lips and chin ended up glossed over with spit, and sometimes, afterward, Tom’s dick felt tender to the touch if the blowjob had gone on for a long time. None of that happened in a fantasy.
He’d jerked off a few times since starting his relationship with Cal, and he still used the same fantasies, and they were still good. Still, he wouldn’t have swapped the flawed reality for the artificial perfection of his imaginary lovers. Not now.
Cal rubbed his cheek against Tom’s dick like a cat, the scrape of his stubble making Tom groan and put his hands onto Cal’s head to hold him still so that the deliciously scratchy sensation continued. “God, that feels good.”
“Well, it’s not supposed to feel bad,” Cal murmured, looking up at him with an expression of such affection and heat that Tom inhaled sharply. “You like it,
hm
? Just a little bit of discomfort?”
Tom had never really thought about it before. “I guess.”
Licking a line up his shaft teasingly, Cal brought a hand up and tugged at Tom’s balls. “What about that?”
“Yeah, that’s…that’s nice.” Tom closed his eyes so he could concentrate on what it felt like when Cal’s lips took him in, so warm and wet, the suction almost unbearably delicious. It was different from fucking Cal, strangely more intimate to be inside his mouth. Tom wanted to stay there forever, so he groaned in protest when Cal pulled away.
“No, just move,” Cal said, directing him. “Like this.”
Tom was nudged into the position Cal wanted him in, sitting with his legs spread wide and Cal kneeling between them. Cal’s hands were warm on his thighs.
“I just want to do this.” Cal leaned in and licked a wide, wet swath over Tom’s asshole.
The shock of it held Tom silent for long enough that Cal had time to do it again, a slow, deliberate drag of his tongue before he lifted his head, a question in his eyes. Tom stared down at him, his heart pounding, his body alive with sensation in a way it had never been before. The effect was out of proportion to the action—Cal had just licked him twice, for God’s sake—and he couldn’t do anything but hold Cal’s gaze and nod.
Cal smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes, tempered by something that might have been sympathy for Tom’s loss of composure. Without a word, he bent his head again, and Tom found that he even if he couldn’t speak, he could keen out something that was at least trying to be Cal’s name.
The wet flicker of Cal’s tongue, the blunt push of his thumbs as he held Tom open, allowing him to work his tongue deeper, all blended into an experience so carnal, so sensual, that Tom couldn’t quite believe it was happening. This felt decadent, something to be done in a huge bed, candles casting wavering light and shadows against the walls, not on Cal’s couch in the middle of the afternoon, sunlight pouring through the window.
Part of him wanted to suggest that they move to somewhere they’d both be more comfortable, because the wood floor had to be hell on Cal’s knees, but the slick, bold glide of Cal’s tongue held Tom’s nervous system captive just in that instant, and it seemed he’d forgotten how to speak. He couldn’t do anything more than whimper and moan wordlessly, occasionally reached to caress Cal’s hair with a blissful sense of gratitude. It felt like his entire body was singing, flickers of pleasure shooting through him and making his already hard dick even harder.
It couldn’t last forever even if he wanted it to, the climax that was usually the goal seeming more like an ending that arrived too soon. Cal’s tongue circled, dipped inside once more, and his hand slid up to grasp Tom's dick. Tom tilted his chin up, a drawn-out, open-mouthed groan escaping him, despairing, ecstatic. He could feel every tiny shift of Cal’s fingers, but it wasn’t enough to send him over when so much of him wanted to stay here, bathed in this sensual glow.
Cal’s finger slid into him, a smooth, sure thrust, even as he kissed Tom’s thigh, his mouth hot and wet. It was too much to take, and Tom came, the pleasure accompanying the tremors racking his body for once blending seamlessly with what had gone before. It felt as if he’d been coming from the first soft kiss.
Tom shuddered and didn’t do anything to stifle the series of cries that forced their way out of his chest, falling from his lips as his semen slicked Cal’s knuckles. He opened his eyes in time to see Cal kneel up and lick the head of his dick. Tom’s hips jerked, and another strong ripple of sensation pulsed through him.
“God,” he said finally. Cal was still licking him, cleaning his cock and belly with long, slow strokes of his tongue. “That was…”
“Good? I’m glad. I wanted it to be good.” Cal’s finger slipped free of his ass, and Tom groaned in protest. He’d never felt anything so perfect, and it just confirmed that having Cal fuck him for the first time was going to be incredible.
“It was awesome. Let’s do it again.” Tom grinned, aware the expression on his face was probably kind of dopey. “Well, maybe in half an hour.”
“If you can do that again in half an hour, you’re a better man than I.” Cal sounded impressed.
Tom shook his head and grabbed Cal’s upper arm to tug him up for a kiss. The inside of Cal’s mouth tasted sour, and Tom didn’t care in the slightest. “Definitely not. You’re the best. You’re amazing.”
“So are you. God, I really do want to fuck you, I do.”
“Do it the night you get back from your trip,” Tom said. “Please? You won’t be too tired after a three-hour flight, and it’ll be something to look forward to.”
It would also be a definite, arranged, agreed-on time, and even if the idea of booking a fuck with Cal was kind of weird, Tom decided he’d take it over vague assurances.
“I could do it now,” Cal suggested.
It was tempting, but Tom reluctantly shook his head. “I want to, but I feel so good right now that I’m not sure I could take any more. God, that felt incredible. Is that something you like doing? Do you want me to do it to you?”
“Not right now.” Cal grinned. “I do have this little problem you could help me take care of, though…” He took Tom’s hand and held it to the front of his slacks, letting Tom feel the erection underneath the fabric. “So what do you say? Think you can give me a hand?”
“Of course,” Tom said and set about doing just that.
The voice over the plane’s loudspeaker said that people could turn on their electronic devices, phrasing that made Cal smile because it was so predictable and without inflection that it might as well have been a recording. He was happy enough to turn on his laptop, though. He’d loaded the photos he’d taken of Tom the day before but hadn’t had a chance to look at them properly yet. He was really looking forward to it.
He’d been upgraded to first class because of some mix-up at the gate. He’d flown so many times that the occasional upgrade was inevitable, but it hadn’t happened often. The seat beside his was empty, so he was feeling particularly spoiled.
“Can I get you anything to drink?” the perky blonde flight attendant asked.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.”
“Is your in-flight entertainment screen working correctly?”
Cal glanced at the small screen currently showing a map with a tiny picture of a plane inching its way along a dotted line, along with a lot of data about wind speed and destination times. The movies on offer were a generic mix, and he’d either already seen them or didn’t want to. “Seems to be,” he said. “Thanks.”
“If there’s anything I can do to make your flight more enjoyable, please just press this button here,” she said, resting her finger lightly on a black button set into the arm of his chair. The movement brought a whiff of her
scent
to him: no perfume, just clean skin and hair. She was pretty, and she was probably not flirting as much as she seemed to be—he’d heard her say the exact same thing to the elderly lady in the row in front of him—but it felt as if he was getting an especially warm smile.
He settled for a polite, distracted nod and stared at his laptop until she moved away.
Tom’s image filled the laptop screen, and Cal breathed in sharply, a throb of longing making him wish the plane was going the other way. This assignment for
Sirius
photographing a movie star who’d recently come out was one he’d been happy to get—lucrative and high-profile—but he was missing Tom already. The actor he was going to meet was better-looking than Tom even without the makeup and airbrushing. Cal didn’t care.
That realization was still novel enough to be surprising. A month ago, he’d have been flying out intending to flirt with the star and probably get off with someone in his entourage if it could be managed discreetly. Cal took his job too seriously to ever sleep with a client, but that didn’t mean everyone around the client was off-limits. Now, he was focused on doing a good job and already planning the staging to make the most of Sanderson’s red hair and bright green eyes. And with all that, Tom still occupied most of his thoughts.
He paged slowly through the photos of Tom, his head tilted to the side, sometimes letting his eyes drift out of focus slightly so he could see the work from a different perspective. Half of the pictures were shit, of course. That was normal. The other half, though, were good, and a handful were very good. One that caught his attention in particular was a close-up that focused on Tom’s stomach, the light and shadow creating definition. It was beautiful.
No, it showed how beautiful Tom was.
God, this was going to be the longest business trip of his life.
* * *
Cal lay down on the bed in his hotel room after a long bath and allowed himself to relax. A vodka tonic, heavy on the vodka, was helping with that too; he’d earned it. The day’s shoot had gone well, and he was looking forward to tomorrow, when he was going to tour the small town where Sanderson had grown up, twenty miles south of LA. Getting the photographs that would complement the written story was always interesting, a collaboration that often took place without his ever meeting the writer in person. In this case, though, the writer was a friend of sorts,
Cor
Jenner.
Cor
—he suspected it was short for Corinne, in which case he could see why she’d changed it, because it really didn’t suit her—was a leggy brunette who took a while to warm up to people. Her girlfriend, Lisa, was the only one who could count on a smile from Cor. Cal counted it as a small victory that, a year and a half after he’d met the women,
Cor
remembered his name—nine times out of ten. That she’d requested him to be the photographer for her article had definitely done a lot for Cal’s standing at the magazine.
He took another sip of his drink. The lemon bobbing in it was beaded with tiny bubbles, a perfect semicircle. When he realized he was staring at it and wondering how to light it to best effect, he shook his head and downed the drink in one long swig. A shoot always left him wired, like an espresso binge.
Of course, usually he had someone in bed next to him to distract him, and tonight he was going to be alone, dining at a table set for one, drinking at the bar without bothering to check out the crowd, finally coming back to his room to sprawl out in a king-size bed big enough for an orgy.
If Tom had been with him… The thought had Cal reaching for his phone. He wanted to hear Tom’s voice, hesitant at first, then warming when Cal spoke. Wanted to know that Tom missed him.
“Hey there, you,” Tom said, answering before the second ring was over and ruining the illusion Cal had been creating.
“Hi, how are you?”
“Okay. The house seems really quiet with you gone, though. How are you? How did it go today?”
Cal rested his cold glass, empty now except for the lemon slice, on his stomach. “Good. Really good, actually, but right now I’m feeling kind of homesick. I want to pretend I’m there with you instead of here in this hotel. Or, if you were here, that would be okay too.”
“What’s the room like?” Tom asked.
“Oh, you know. Typical. Nice big bed, though. Wish you were here to share it with me.” Cal was feeling more morose as the conversation went on.
“What’s on the walls?”
Cal blinked. “What?”
“
Artwise
. Landscapes?”
“I don’t know.” Cal sat up, reaching to set his glass on the table beside the bed. “Um, more like abstracts. They’re pretty ugly, actually.” Being more interested in photographs, he rarely paid any attention to the artwork hung on hotel walls. It always seemed to be paintings, and they were usually pretty dull.
“I think someone should write a book,” Tom said, and Cal gave up any hope of ever predicting what might come out of Tom’s mouth. “Like, a coffee-table book about the artwork in hotel rooms. Where do you think it comes from?”
“I can honestly say I’ve never given it a second’s thought,” Cal said. “Maybe one of those starving artists’ sales?”
“Maybe. And, you know, who buys it? Because it’s got to be someone’s job. Does the person who does the buying for the Hilton chain get everything all at once? So the art on the walls in a Los Angeles Hilton is the same as a New York City Hilton?”
Cal laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You really need a hobby.”
“Remind me to show you my stamp collection when you get back. I’ve got this really cool triangular one from Papua New Guinea.”
“Oh. That’s, uh… Stamps?”
“Did you know that the earliest stamp was issued by the Romans? They used melted wax and signet rings.”
“Cool,” Cal said without conviction, trying to inject some interest into his voice. If Tom liked stamps, Cal was prepared to get licking.
“Isn’t it? Do you like them too?”
It struck Cal that he didn’t know if Tom was serious or not. Tom had
geek
written all over him, and it didn’t matter that Cal found it endearing. It was still more than possible that—
A stifled choke of laughter clued him in. “I’m so going to pay you back for that,” Cal said pleasantly. “I can think of many devious and evil ways.”
“The
Romans
?” Tom asked, still laughing. “I can’t believe you bought that.”
“I can’t remember the last time I bought a stamp either,” Cal said. “Let me see… I can tie you up and tickle you mercilessly. Cover you in peanut butter edible body oil and decide I’m allergic to nuts. Take you to a karaoke bar and serenade you, or—”
“Mercy,” Tom said. “You can’t see me, but I’ve gone pale, and I’m shaking in my socks.”
Cal seriously doubted it. “Are you on the couch?”
“Okay, that’s a little uncanny.” Tom paused, then asked, “What am I wearing?”
“If you’re at home, in your socks, sweatpants,” Cal said. “The underwear could go either way. And your T-shirt is too big.”
“It’s like you’re psychic.” Tom’s voice was low and full of awe, but this time it only took Cal a fraction of a second to realize that it was a form of teasing. “And no, I’m not wearing any underwear.”
“News at eleven,” Cal intoned. “I am. In case you wanted to know. Wearing underwear.” He wasn’t in the habit of hanging around hotel rooms naked unless he had a partner with him. He never knew when some idiot might set off the fire alarm, and comfortable as he was with his body, he didn’t really care to show it off to complete strangers in a stairwell.
The background noise behind Tom, which Cal hadn’t even realized had been there, shut off. “So are you dressed? Or are you just hanging out in your briefs?”
“Dressed,” Cal said. “I was thinking about ordering room service, and picking up the delivery guy isn’t really my style. A little too porn flick for my tastes.”
There was an awkward silence.
“Okay, consider that payback paid back,” Tom said finally. “Just thinking about you with someone else—”
“Not going to happen,” Cal said urgently, his palms slippery with sweat. God, he had to learn to think before he opened his stupid mouth—and, yes, Tom had to stop being so touchy. Tom had every reason to still be fixated on the idea of him as a guy who fucked and walked away. Still, at some point, Tom had to start trusting him.
Soon. Please?
“I know that,” Tom said. There was enough constraint in his voice to contradict his words. “If he’s hot, you can look—hell, jerk off thinking about him if you like. I’m not trying to stop you from being you. I get that, I do.” Cal heard Tom take a deep breath. “In fact, I saw this guy in the coffee shop this morning, and he winked at me. I’ve seen him in there before, and he’s always just looked through me. It’s like I’ve got a label on me now saying NOT A VIRGIN or something.”
Cal closed his eyes for a moment, holding back a groan. Yeah, Tom was probably giving off all kinds of different signals now that he had some confidence to shore up what nature had given him. Nothing like getting some regularly to give someone that glow, and there were plenty of moths out there.
“So make a sign that says TAKEN next time you go in there,” he said. “Because you are, and so am I. Spoken for. Committed. Totally obsessed with my roomie and missing him like hell.”
“Not as much as I miss you.” Tom sounded like he really meant it, which was gratifying.
“More. I was looking at the pictures I took of you on the plane, and you have no idea how much I wanted you there with me. Not just to touch—though I definitely want that, all the time—but to talk to. We’ll have to figure out how to get you on one of these trips with me.” It would be challenging to have to work knowing that Tom was close by. Still, Cal was convinced he was up for it.
“That would be great.” Tom sighed. “God, just hearing your voice makes me hard.”
“Yeah?” That was promising. “Are you hard right now, Tom?”
“Getting there. I’ve always, well, I’ve always felt like I had at least an average sex drive, if not above average. These days, though, it’s like I can’t stop thinking about it. Sex. You.” Tom’s voice lowered. “Your cock.”
“And how much you want it inside you?” Cal closed his eyes and imagined Tom with a hand down his sweatpants, touching himself.
“Fuck, yes,” Tom said. “When you get back, right? Even if your flight’s delayed and they run out of complimentary pretzels so you’re tired and starving. I’ll make it up to you, but God, if you don’t do me within five minutes of walking through the door, I’ll burst into tears.”
“No pressure, right?” Cal said with a grin. “Did I ever tell you that I love how up-front you are about wanting me?”
“And here I thought I was being subtle and playing hard to get.”
“Don’t ever even try. Not your style.” Cal wet his lips. “Uh, are you really hard? Touching yourself for me right now? Feel free to lie.”
“I’m blushing now,” Tom said. “That’s not a lie. It’s a hint that yeah, I’m a little distracted right now.” He was smiling; Cal could hear it in his voice. “Does this qualify as phone sex, or do we both have to be figuring out how to keep our phone from sliding out from between our ear and shoulder?”
“Speakerphone,” Cal told him. “Solves all your problems. It’s like it was made for moments like this.” He actually kind of hated how people sounded when his cell was on speakerphone, but he’d make an exception about using it considering it was Tom.
He could hear Tom doing something followed by a weird click on the line. “Okay. I think. Say something?”
“Something like ‘I wish you were here right now so I could suck you off’?”
Tom groaned. “There’s some sucking going on here. That’s for sure.”
It took Cal a few seconds to figure out that that was a complaint about his teasing. “Don’t fight it,” he advised. “Just go with it. Don’t give yourself time to get embarrassed, because there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
