Hanging Loose (7 page)

He glanced at me over his shoulder with a casual smile.

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” was all I could croak out before my voice would betray me.

He turned his attention back to the counter. The spell broke, and my feet moved again. I stole up behind him, and after a moment of hesitation, put my palm at his nape. Something clunked to the cutting board, and he stilled, even stopped breathing.

I slowly slid my hand down along the groove of his spine, with every pore of my being focused on the sensation. I felt every smooth inch with a rare intensity. I reached the waistband of the shorts and kept going. He spun around and planted his hands on either side of my head. I realized just then how big his hands were. All this time I’d never noticed. For some reason, thinking about them made me even more aroused. He gripped my head and stared warily into my eyes. He even sniffed me.

“Did you take something?” There was a hint of concern in his voice.

“Like what?” I gulped like a fish out of water.

“Pills?”

“Aspirin this morning. Why?”

“Because I don’t smell alcohol or pot on you, and you only hit on me when you’re buzzed.”

He had a point. I wasn’t buzzed, but I felt like it. Maybe because my heart was beating too fast to get oxygen to my brain. I was full of a dizzy, jittery energy.

“There was probably a fair amount of MSG in my lunch, but otherwise, stone-cold sober.”

He looked at me even more suspiciously. He kissed me. I shuddered and welcomed him in. His tongue brusquely probed mine, searching for evidence. There was nothing; I was innocent. I brazenly slipped my hands around him and returned to the smooth planes of his back. I might have moaned into his mouth a little. He pulled back and looked at me with furrowed brows.

“Who are you, and what did you do to the real Nate?”

“Alien sex gas.” My oxygen-starved mind improvised. “I’m here to screw your brains out and consume your life force.”

He squinted. God, he had the most adorable squint. He turned serious. I didn’t like that quite as much.

“Is this what you really want?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure?” he asked with two scoops of emphasis.

“More than anything. If you want it too…” For a flash, doubt and fear surged through me, because if I was wrong…

“You have no idea,” he growled and slammed into me. We staggered till my back hit the fridge. Magnets flew in all directions. He attacked my lips like he was starving and I was an all-you-can-eat buffet. Or was it the other way around? His hands raked up my sides and pushed my T-shirt along. I took a leave from exploring his inviting flesh long enough to wiggle out of my shirt. He methodically nipped a line from my jaw to my shoulder. Some were soft, barely there. Others were sharper, carrying a tinge of pain that sent tiny shivers through me.

My willful hands found their way to the small of his back and kept going downward. I was determined to succeed this time. My fingers wormed their way under the waistband of his shorts, where I could finally rub and squeeze his perfect ass. His cheeks were flawlessly round and firm under my hands. He sank his teeth into my neck hard enough to make my fingers clamp down, and we moaned in a two-part harmony. Funny, I thought, how all these body parts worked together.

In the end, Jez foiled me again. Before I knew what was happening, he was on his knees, shoving my jeans and briefs down around my ankles. He licked warm, wet swaths along the length of my cock. He flitted his tongue around the head, then pushed into the slit. My hips twitched impatiently, but he held me firm. I grasped his head, fingers digging into the mess of his hair. He looked up at me before wrapping his lips around the head of my cock. He swallowed it down inch by inch and began to suck. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was obscenely beautiful—my gorgeous surf god sucking my cock, his head bobbing up and down. My fingers convulsively clenched in his hair as I yearned to thrust.

My skin buzzed with the promise of release. The sensation spread from my groin to my belly and down to my knees. I tried to warn Jez, but my throat was only able to produce a garble. I clutched his hair and tugged, but he just sucked harder. Then I was falling like Alice down the rabbit hole, tumbling blind with pleasure. I came, hips stuttering, into his beautiful, greedy mouth. My legs went rubbery, and only his firm hands kept me from sinking to the floor. He slipped up along my body, keeping me pressed against the fridge, and kissed me deep and slow. The taste of myself on him—in him—felt so dirty and so hot.

I tugged at his shorts, pushed them past the curve of his ass, and they dropped to the floor. He took my hand and wrapped it around his cock. It was slender and smooth, as I expected it to be. It felt solid and heavy in my hand, which rose and fell around it. He dug his fingers into my hips, and he moaned into my mouth, my skin, as I stroked him. He was on the brink.

I squeezed a little harder and did that swipe of the thumb that always got me. He shuddered and moaned as his jizz splattered over my fist. I made a few more lazy strokes, milking him to the last drop. He slumped against me with a satisfied sigh. His forehead thumped on the fridge door. We stood there, holding each other, till our breathing steadied. At last we reluctantly untangled.

Jez grabbed a clean kitchen towel and wet it at the sink before cleaning us up. I detached myself from the fridge and pulled my jeans back on. I stepped on something. I picked it up: good ol’ Casablanca. I stuck it back on the fridge.

“Are you hungry?” Jez asked.

“Ravenous.” I reached for him.

“I meant food.” He chuckled but didn’t pull back.

“That too.”

Now that we “did it,” it was like the dam broke; I wanted more. I had an overwhelming urge to just touch him, taste him. Jez laughed and called me a big doof, but he was as caught up as I was. We acted like a couple of teenagers high on hormones. At least we managed to make some sandwiches without destroying the kitchen.

“Tell me something,” he said over ham and cheese. “Where did this sudden change of heart come from?”

“Sudden?” I retorted, because Jez wasn’t stupid; he must have seen the edge I’d been teetering on.

“Mmm…”

“I had some help to sort things out.”

“Ah. So we’re cool? You’re not freaking out?”

“I’m cool,” I assured him. “I’d like to do it some more, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyes glinted excitement.

“Yeah.”

“I want to taste every inch of you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

* * *

He didn’t, though; not right away. He went to the bathroom, and I had the sudden compulsion to straighten up the kitchen. Okay, maybe I was losing my nerve a little. I heard the splashing of water, the opening and closing of doors. I waited for him to finish before going myself. I brushed my teeth, then stared into the mirror. I looked the same as always.

Jez was already in bed. I slipped out of my clothes and under the covers. Curling into Jez, I couldn’t help but compare; everything about him was different. Jez was hard where Jenny was soft; firm for pliant; his face scratchy with stubble, not smooth. He even smelled completely different. I was attracted to it—it turned me on like nothing else—but it was still strange and new. It was one thing getting blown in the kitchen and another to be in bed with a man. Like a couple. Jez stroked my temple, his strong hand unexpectedly gentle.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a hushed tone.

I nodded.

My hands continued their clumsy exploration of Jez’s body. He seemed tense. At last Jez pulled away from me and sat up. I looked at him, confused. He tucked the sheets around himself in uncharacteristically demure fashion.

“This was a bad idea,” he said.

“What?”

“Look, let’s forget anything happened. We can go back to the way we were.”

I looked at Jez, puzzled.

“You’re still emotional; you don’t know what you’re doing,” he said.

I sat up too. “Are you still worried I’ll freak out?” I asked.

“I’m worried that you’ll realize this isn’t really what you want. We’ll get all awkward and end up not talking to each other, and you’ll move out. You’re uncertain. I can tell.”

“Idiot,” I said and began to peel the sheets away from him.

He huffed but didn’t resist.

When he didn’t say anything, I spoke. “I’m not uncertain, just nervous. You’d think you’ve never been with a virgin.”

“Only once, and it didn’t turn out well.”

“Well, this’ll be different. I promise.”

I finally managed to tug all the sheets off him to reveal an expanse of smooth skin. That urge to touch him, feel him under my hand, that I had since I first saw him overwhelmed me. I ran my finger down his chest, tracing the contours of muscles.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured.

Jez’s breathing quickened. I felt his gaze burning into my skin. I followed the thin gold trail of hair from his navel to his groin. His soft cock was flopped on his thigh. I put my palm over it and felt it jump. We locked eyes.

“I’m nervous as hell,” I said. “But I really want you, and not just tonight. But I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I need you to show me. Please?”

I watched the doubt and hesitation in Jez’s eyes turn into naked hunger. He pulled me to him and kissed me hard. Lust surged in my veins as we rolled around in the bed. When Jez took my cock, I realized how hard I was.

“Nate, damn,” he growled.

Jez, confident and sexy, was back. He slid his expert hands over my skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. Still, I froze when his fingers swept along my ass.

“Shh, we won’t do anything you don’t want.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling contrite. “I want to. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

“I’m not expecting you to be.”

“You don’t mind?”

Jez pushed himself up on one elbow.

“Some gay men never do it.”

“Really? I thought—”

He rolled his eyes. “Only straight people think that all gays ever do is anal sex. There are so many other ways to have fun.”

“Hey, who are you calling straight?”

“My apologies. You’re decidedly bent,” he said, laughing.

“Thank you. That’s better.”

“You’re a nut.”

That must have given him an idea, because he disappeared under the blanket, and a second later, my nut sac was enveloped in the wet warmth of his mouth. I threw off the blanket. I didn’t want him to suffocate, but most of all, I wanted to see him. He looked up at me with eyes full of filthy promises.

“I wasn’t kidding,” Jez murmured in a husky voice I hadn’t known he had.

“Huh?”

“About tasting every inch of you.”

And he wasn’t. He had this easy, unselfconscious way of doing things to me that made my toes curl. No doubt, he had far more experience than I did. Jez was simply shameless about enjoying himself, enjoying
me
. He seemed to have a knack for finding every sensitive spot I had, even—especially—the ones I didn’t know about, from my toes to the tips of my ears. He was utterly unabashed working his way up and down my body. I tried to reciprocate, but he swept my attempts aside.

“Just lie back and enjoy yourself,” he said.

So I did. Maybe for the first time in my life, I really let go, focusing only on the physical sensations his touches induced. I was taut like a rubber band, ready to snap, and he barely even touched my cock. His own rubbed and rutted against me here and there, but almost like an afterthought. I wanted to touch myself, touch him, but he batted my hands away. I gripped the sheets in frustration.

“Please,” I whimpered when I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please what?”

“Anything, please.”

He could’ve fucked me then and there, rammed his cock up my ass, and I wouldn’t have done a thing to stop him. But he didn’t. Jez moved, the bed dipped to one side, and he positioned us till we were on our sides, face-to-face, cock-to-cock, legs tangled. I finally understood why Jez always kept hand lotion on his night table. He slathered it liberally on our shafts, sliding his hand on each with a teasing touch while I looked on, entranced.

Once they were well lubricated, he held our cocks together in a firm but not too tight grip. Instinctively I curled my hand around from the other side and followed his lead as he began to stroke up and down. The lotion turned the already delicious friction into something bordering obscene. We kissed, and our hands moved slow and sexy, but then the strokes got faster, our breathing laborious.

“Jez, I’m…” I panted.

“Yes, baby. Come for me,” Jez urged, and from the tightness of his tone, I knew he was right on the edge too.

Not able to hold back any longer, I came, spilling between us, Jez only moments behind.

* * *

I woke the next morning in Jez’s bed, spooning, and I was the little spoon. There was a first time for everything. I didn’t mind in the least. Jez’s legs lay heavily over mine, arm cast around my chest. His weight on me was solid and reaffirming; I liked the way it held me in place. I would have been content to lie there like that forever. Well, except that I had to pee. I moved to slide out of bed without waking him, but his arm tightened, pulling me back. Jez was mumbling something incoherent, still asleep.

“Shh… I’ll be right back.” I peeled his arm off, and he rolled away.

I stretched, and a pleasant soreness washed over me. My muscles pretended to complain but couldn’t quite hide their smug contentment. I ambled off to the bathroom without bothering to dress.

On my way back, I picked up my sketchbook. I crouched on the foot of the bed, taking the opportunity to just look at Jez undisturbed. He was so beautiful that my heart did a little flip-flop. Sprawled on his back, one hand resting on his pillow, the other cast to the side, he projected the lazy self-confidence of a cat in repose. His tanned body, with its sleek curves, lay in sharp contrast against the crumpled mess of white sheets. The comforter had slipped to his waist. I carefully tugged it a little lower and began to draw.

I sat there, putting on the finishing strokes, when his eyes blinked open, and he stretched. My features warped themselves into an involuntary grin. I couldn’t help it; he just had that effect on me. He returned it.