His Heart's Revenge (49th Floor Novels) (10 page)

Cary was a dick man. He was an equal opportunity dick lover. He could write his own Dr. Seuss book about them. Because he liked them here, there, and everywhere. He liked them in his hand. He liked them in his mouth. Though he wasn’t going there today with Alex, he liked them other places, too.

And he appreciated them all. Big, small, fat, thin, cut, uncut. Didn’t matter. They were all beautiful.

But this one. Oh, this one. Like its owner, it was beautiful. Not porn-star huge, but plenty sizable, maybe six inches long, slightly fatter than average, and uncut. It was surrounded by a thatch of dark hair that had been trimmed but not shaved.

And it possessed the most important quality in a dick—it was straining toward him.

He knew he should be gentle, at least to start, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted. He pulled Alex to him so their cocks were touching between them and wrapped a hand around both, rubbing them together and being rewarded by the sound of a ragged inhale. Alex grabbed his ass and ground their hips together as he lowered his mouth to Cary’s. With a jolt, Cary realized they still hadn’t kissed yet. They’d moved straight to stripping. Alex plunged his tongue into Cary’s mouth, like last time, stroking him so deep it felt like he was trying to crawl inside Cary’s body.

“What were you doing on the patio at Liu’s?” he growled, sweeping his tongue even deeper.

“Trying to hide,” Cary answered immediately, unable to lie.

“From me?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t like you hiding from me.”

Oh, shit. He was going to come. Like a teenager who couldn’t keep himself under control, he was going to cause this to end before it had even begun. He broke the kiss and shifted so he was holding only Alex’s dick, removing his own from the situation for the moment. A drop of pre-cum leaked out of Alex’s slit. “I’ve thought about this since—” He checked himself. Mentioning that night would be a surefire mood killer. But it was true. Alex had been his first kiss. His first crush. As they had kissed and fumbled against each other on that dock, both of them wearing only wet shorts, Cary had felt Alex’s hardness. He had thought about it obsessively afterward, lust mixed with guilt. And, in his heart, he’d never stopped wondering what it would be like to be with Alex Evangelista. But, shit, he didn’t need to tell Alex any of that.

“Since when?” Alex prompted, his voice gruff. When Cary had pulled away, Alex had followed him, licking and kissing his throat, a determined assault that was making Cary’s legs feel week. “Since you broke into my house?” His stubble grazed the sensitive skin of Cary’s chest as he took a nipple into his mouth and bit down gently.

Cary’s hips surged forward of their own volition. “Since camp,” he panted, because for a moment of temporary insanity, he wanted the war to be off. Not just suspended, but
over
. Though it was probably unwise, he
wanted
Alex to know that he had thought about him over the years. As if that might somehow make up for what he had done. “Since the meteor shower.”

Alex paused in his wicked ministrations, but only for a moment. Then he worked his way back up to Cary’s neck, kissing and sucking so fervently that Cary feared he would leave a mark. But when he took Cary’s earlobe into his mouth, Cary stopped caring. He cried out when Alex released the earlobe only a second later.

“So you’ve thought about my cock for twenty years, have you?” Alex rasped, dragging his mouth around to the front of Cary’s throat.

Cary tangled his fingers in Alex’s hair, which fell in waves a few inches past his ears—long by the conservative standards of the banking industry.

“Can you be more specific? Because a more thorough recounting of your thoughts could provide us with some helpful direction here.” When Cary didn’t answer immediately, Alex nuzzled him harder on the neck. “Did you think about it inside you?”

God, Alex didn’t mince words, did he? Cary’s hole clenched at the suggestive question. Of
course
he had. But that was off that table tonight. He wasn’t handing over that much power, at least not yet.

When Cary didn’t answer, Alex moved on. “Did you think of it in your mouth?”

As soon as the wicked question was out of Alex’s mouth, it was
all
Cary could think about. Taking that beautiful cock into his mouth. Cupping those heavy balls while he relaxed his throat to take more of Alex in. Cary groaned.

Alex must have interpreted that groan as the assent it was because he growled, “Then what are you waiting for?”

Cary’s mouth was watering. His tongue was itching. Now that the idea had been planted, he had to have it. He gave a fleeting thought for being slow and seductive, for foreplay, but then he thought about Alex literally ripping his shirt off and figured they were beyond that. So he sank to his knees and let his senses fill with the scent of musky man. He ran his tongue lightly up and down the shaft a few times before taking Alex deep into his mouth, relishing Alex’s muffled curse as he did so. He kept things loose and light at first, teasing as he bobbed up and down, pausing at the top of each stroke to swirl his tongue over the head.

Alex was resting his hands on Cary’s head. Unlike Alex’s, his hair was too short for fingers to run through it. But Alex’s fingers were flexing, their pads pressing into Cary’s scalp like the sweetest torture. Cary tightened his lips, applying a little more suction at the same time that he deepened his stroke, willing his throat to relax as he took more of Alex in.

“Fuck!” This time Alex’s curse echoed across the dark apartment as he began rocking his hips. Cary’s balls grew heavy as pressure gathered. Two decades of wondering, and he had never imagined this. It had never been like this before. Never this good. He could lose himself in this forever. The feeling of being filled—filled by Alex Evangelista. It made him feel invincible. Powerful.

“I told you…” Alex rasped, his voice hanging by a thread.

Cary had to concentrate to make sense of what Alex was saying above the rush of his own blood and the unbearably sexy suctioning sound of Alex’s cock, working in and out of his mouth, magnified somehow so it sounded like a raging river. He was going to come, right now, and he was pretty sure Alex was, too.

Alex spoke again, finishing his sentence this time. “I told you I’d have you on your knees before this was done.”

Chapter Fourteen

Alexander’s first thought was that that had been an asshole move, even for him, a documented asshole. His second thought was why the
fuck
hadn’t he waited until after he’d come to say it?

Because Cary immediately released him, moving away from Alexander’s dick so fast it might as well have been a rattlesnake. As Cary disappeared into the dark apartment without a word, not even bothering to kick Alexander out, Alexander wondered if some part of him had said it because he
wanted
Cary to stop. But that was ridiculous. As evidenced by the wickedest case of blue balls in the history of the universe.

And by the absurd desire to go after Cary.

He tamped that shit right down, though, and went in search of his clothes. He had to untangle his pants legs from Cary’s. It was like even their clothing couldn’t stay away from each other. What
was
it with that guy? Alexander had never had a blow job like that before, and he had had
a lot
of blow jobs. It had been, objectively, an excellent blow job. But it was more than that. With each stroke, Alexander had heard Cary’s phrase echoing louder and louder in his mind.
At camp
.
Since the meteor shower.
The knowledge that Cary had thought of him—at all, much less sexually—in the two decades since they’d been boys was…unsettling.

Even more unsettling? The fact that he didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do now. He’d been trying to maintain dominance throughout this encounter, to remind Cary who was the titan and who was the upstart in this scenario. But as he’d been about to blow his load, wracked with a pleasure more intense than any he had ever known, a pleasure he would have done anything to hold on to, it was pretty fucking obvious who had power over whom.

…

The worst part, Cary thought as he quickly dressed in sweats and a T-shirt after the aborted blowjob, was that he had walked right into Alex’s trap. Or
kneeled
right into it. His face heated just thinking about it, and he wasn’t sure if it was mortification or lust that was the culprit.

Goddammit. He’d dressed quickly, but for what? He sat on the edge of his bed and buried his head in his hands. He had no idea if Alex was still out there. He had no idea if he
wanted
Alex to still be out there. Probably he had left, had brushed his hands together having scored a major victory in this war that was about Liu and yet not about Liu and run home to his penthouse. Maybe he’d made up with the model. Or ordered up a new one.

The worst part was that, this Liu stuff aside, and as angry as Cary was, in his heart, he knew he deserved it. If Alex was punishing him, he was justified.

He had to apologize. Once and for all. Decisively. Not because he thought Alex needed to hear it. Clearly, Alex hated him. Cary wasn’t flattering himself that that incident so many years ago was formative. It hadn’t made Alex the way he was. Alex was too strong. Alex made himself. So the impulse to apologize was an entirely selfish one. Maybe he
was
weak, immature, and too soft. Maybe everyone had been right all along. Because Cary needed to hear himself say the words. He couldn’t control what impact they would have, but this had been eating at him for twenty years.

The door to his bedroom opened slowly. A dark figure appeared in the doorway, almost indistinguishable from the darkness surrounding him because Cary hadn’t turned on any lights in the apartment.

Well, shit. Here was his chance being handed to him on a silver platter. Or a platter of darkness, but still.

“I’m sorry.”

Cary jumped, because he hadn’t been the only one talking. They’d both spoken the same words at the same time, just like at games day. He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, casting the room in a warm glow. Alex had gotten dressed, too, which was more disappointing than it should have been.

“That was an asshole thing to say,” Alex said, staring straight at Cary. “I’m sorry. When I issued that threat, I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t planning this.”

Cary blinked. He couldn’t have been more surprised if Alex had dropped to one knee and proposed marriage. There was none of the hemming and hawing or refusal to make eye contact that some people were plagued with when they had to say difficult things. Not that he would have expected dissembling from Alex. Alex did everything with a decisive single-mindedness, which was probably why their little interlude just now had been so hot. It was more the backing down that shocked Cary. He didn’t get the sense that Alex did that—ever. “I’m sorry, too. That day at camp…” Unlike Alex, Cary had to struggle to get the words out. He took a deep breath. “That was the worst thing I ever did. I took what we had—what we could have had—and threw it away. Worse, I humiliated you.”

Alex stared at him silently for a few moments, but they felt like hours. His face betrayed nothing when he finally spoke. “What we had was a kiss. It wasn’t like we pledged our eternal devotion and fidelity.”

Right. More evidence that Alex, though he might be holding a grudge, wasn’t as affected by Cary’s snub as Cary had always feared. “I know. I just wanted you to hear me say that it was a dick move, and I knew it.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Because I wasn’t as strong as you
. But he couldn’t say that. Because to say that might imply that he still wasn’t, that he knew he was going to lose the Liu account. That Alex and Cary’s uncle and everyone was right about Cary, that he didn’t have what it took to be successful outside the confines of his family’s privileged world. And whatever else happened between them, Cary was still in it to win it. So instead, he answered with a confession. “I came out when I got home from camp that summer.”

Alex raised his eyebrows and took a step into the room. He hadn’t expected that. And rightly so. It was a big gap from the chickenshit kid who’d thrown his crush under the bus to coming out to family and classmates a few weeks later.

“Did you go back to camp the next summer?”

Cary shook his head. “Nope. My father was not…happy with my ‘lifestyle,’ as he deemed it. As if a fifteen-year-old could have a ‘lifestyle.’ He seemed to think camp had something to do with it.” In a roundabout way, it had. “So he made me spend the next summer interning for my uncle.” Not that Cary would have gone back to camp, anyway.

“And lo, a financial genius was born.”

Cary cocked his head. “Did you just call me a financial genius?”

“A momentary slip of the tongue.”

“Understandable. Your tongue has been…busy.” Wait. Was he flirting with Alex Evangelista? What was the matter with him?

“It’s just been trying to keep up with the class.”

Holy shit. Was Alex Evangelista flirting back?

Cary, who had remained sitting on his bed, stood. “You, uh, want a beer?” Could this actually happen?

“No.”

Apparently not.

“What I want,” Alex said slowly, “is to do what you said.”

“What did I say?”

“I want to finish what we started. I think two false starts is just about enough.”

“Three,” Cary said, his voice catching because the shame of it all was still so close to the surface. “If you count twenty years ago.”

“Perhaps the fourth time will be the charm, then,” Alex said. “Except we’ll have to live in suspense a little longer because it’s not going to happen right now.”

Why the hell not? Cary wanted to ask, but he didn’t.

“We need to be considered about this,” Alex went on. “Measured.”

“We need to be measured about sex?”

“Yes. Because that’s all it’s going to be.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re still not ready to pledge your eternal devotion and fidelity?” Cary was trying to lighten the mood because he didn’t know what the hell else to do.

But it didn’t work. Alex’s neutral expression didn’t change. “I don’t do devotion. Or fidelity. But more than that, I am unwavering in my intention to wipe the floor with you when it comes to Don Liu. I’m still going to have you on your knees before this is over.” One corner of his mouth did turn up then. Finally, some evidence of human emotion. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

Cary cracked his own grin in response. “So it’s still war.”

“It is, indeed.”

“But it’s not going to be some kind of messed-up vengeance sex,” Cary said. Despite the fact that Alex had apologized, he had to make sure there wasn’t going to be a repeat of what had just happened. As much as he wanted Alex, it wasn’t worth it. “There’s sex, and there’s the competition for Liu, and they’re separate things. I’m not doing this if this is all part of some scheme of yours to play me.”

Alex gestured to one side of his body with his hands and said, “War.” Then he moved his hands to the other side and said, “Sex.” Then he repeated the first gesture. “Two separate boxes. Over here we have war.” He repeated the second. “And over here we have sex.”

Cary flashed back to the taste of Alex filling his mouth. “When?”

“Monday. After work. My place.”

Cary nodded, but when Alex turned to go, he called out after him. “And, for the record?”

Alex paused, looking over his shoulder at Cary from where he was standing in the hall outside the bedroom. “Yes?”

“This whole ‘on your knees’ business?”

“Yes,” Alex said again.

Cary summoned his evilest smile. “I’ve always thought metaphor is overrated. I’m more of a literalist myself. Just so you know.”