The One That Got Away (17 page)

Trace sighed and stayed close for a long moment before pulling back. “You have no idea, do you?” he murmured. He was tempted to kiss David right there in the open, where anyone could walk by. So tempted.

Being this close to David was all it took to arouse him. “Come on. Time to get you home. Got to think about what you’ll do now that you have to go back to work every day,” he teased. 

“You really know how to rain on a guy’s good mood,” David groused, walking around to the passenger side of the car. “Don’t get my kiss
and
I get reminded that I have to go back and put up with the putzes in the newsroom,” he muttered as he climbed into the car, fastening his seat belt.

Trace smiled fondly as he got in the driver’s seat. He reached over to slide one finger under David’s chin, turned it slightly toward him, and pressed a gentle kiss to David’s lips. “Does that help?” he asked. David’s eyes closed as he lifted up into the light touch, claiming a real kiss. Lifting his newly released hand to the soft dark hair, he held Trace close, plundering the sweet mouth, sucking at the full lips and swallowing the soft moans escaping from both of them.

Dizzy from just these few kisses, Trace hummed faintly as David took his mouth, freely given. God, Trace wanted to give him so much.

He’d be totally calm and under control and one touch from David would have him flushed and panting. His hand dropped to curl over David’s shoulder.

Reluctantly, David pulled his mouth away, letting their cheeks press together, Trace’s warm moist breath tickling his ear. “
That
helped, but it isn’t near enough. How fast can you get us home? I’m in the mood to celebrate my release by doing all sorts of things that involve my right hand and your naked body.”

Trace literally whimpered. “I have a meeting at the office in half an hour,” he murmured, voice aching.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to touch you while you drive,” David purred, cupping Trace’s erection through his trousers and squeezing.

“Christ,” Trace whispered as he started the car with a fierce grin.

“Don’t let me kill us, okay?” 

“You concentrate on driving. I’ll concentrate on you,” David said, his fingernails scraping up the long inseam of Trace’s pants.

Trace gritted his teeth and put the car into reverse, got out of the parking lot and onto the road. He gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Jesus, David, what the fuck are you doing to me?” he asked as he squirmed a little under the other man’s hand.

“Oh, come on,” David teased with his voice as his hands slipped inside Trace’s fly, palming his hot erection. Leaning close to get a better angle, David worked the hard length until the head glistened with beads of fluid. “You can’t tell me you’ve never had someone go down on you in a car.”

“Not while I was driving, no!” Trace retorted, lifting his hips a little into David’s hand.

“Just don’t run off the road, and easy on the gas,” David directed as his head dropped into Trace’s lap, his tongue finding the edge of the swollen head and tracing the rim.

Trace cried out softly and let off the gas pedal as he drove down the mostly empty city street. He lowered one hand to curl into David’s hair.

“Oh baby,” he whispered, making himself stare at the road. Normally this wouldn’t have him so crazy so quickly. But in the car while driving?

David’s mouth made it amazing.

Aware that they were operating under a timeline, David played dirty.

Sucking the shaft into his mouth, he played the ultrasensitive spot on the underside with his tongue. Pulling Trace even deeper, he hummed and groaned his pleasure, his own hand kneading the bulge in his jeans to release the pressure.

Cursing under his breath, Trace turned onto a busy city street and bit his bottom lip as he forced himself to concentrate. Three blocks, four, 
five…. “Fuck, David,” he hissed as he made the turn onto the quiet street that led into David’s subdivision.

David just purred deep in his throat, swallowing around Trace’s shaft. Nose buried deep in the musky-smelling curls, he slipped his hand into the loose fabric and cupped the soft sacs, rolling them gently as he lifted his head and sank back down until Trace was sheathed in his throat.

Trace stopped the car in the driveway with a growl, throwing it into park and grabbing David’s head with both hands. “David!” he bit out.

“Wanna move….” Unwilling to release Trace even long enough to speak, David encouraged him with sound and action. He loved making Trace lose control; to him nothing was sexier. Head falling back against the seat, Trace moaned and jutted his hips up, thrusting into David’s mouth and throat, feeling it work him all the way down. “Fuck, your gorgeous mouth drives me insane,” he breathed, fingers curling in David’s hair, panting hard.

David’s nipples tightened into hard aching peaks, his cock thrumming to the same pulse as his heart. Sucking and stroking, he lavished attention on Trace.

Trace was swiftly losing control. “David, David,” he moaned, forcing himself to look down at where his cock disappeared into David’s mouth. “Oh fuck,” he hissed as his groin seized up and he started to tense.

“Gonna… gonna….”

David’s fingers found the arch of flesh just behind Trace’s balls and pressed. Trace’s eyes flew open and a yell ripped from him as the sensation crashed through him, throwing him into a wild climax that had him clenching and pulsing into David’s mouth. Savoring the taste of Trace on his tongue like a fine wine, David milked the spasming length until it was completely soft, fitting easily inside his mouth. He continued to gently tongue the sated length until Trace’s twitching told him it was too 
much. Reluctantly, he let it slip from his mouth, resting his head on Trace’s thigh.

A shaky hand covered Trace’s eyes, the elbow propped against the window, as he tried to pull an even breath. “What the hell did you do to me?” he asked, his voice thick with satiation and a spark of surprise.

“Nothing you don’t do to me,” David replied, his voice rough with desire.

Trace laughed a bit desperately. “I’m fairly sure I’ve never done what you did. Jesus, you took the top of my head off, lover,” he said as he relaxed back into the seat. “We should go in so I can return the favor.” A playful smile curved his lips.

“Thought you had to go to work,” David reminded gently.

Groaning, Trace covered his eyes again. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Yeah.” He moved his hand and looked down at David’s flushed face. He trailed a finger along the other man’s lips. “I’ll make it up to you.

Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” David grinned, sitting up and kissing Trace chastely, unsure of how the brunet felt about tasting his own release.

But Trace ran his tongue along David’s lips and growled slightly. “I can taste myself on you. If that won’t make a man hard fast, I don’t know what will.” He sighed, pulled back, and did up his pants. “I’ve got to go,”

he said apologetically.

Trace’s reaction to the kiss wound David up more than the blow job had. Straightening in his seat, he reached for the door. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said, pulling on the lever and unfolding his body from the low sports car. Adjusting himself with the heel of his hand, he silently gave thanks that his arm was healed. It was about to get a workout.

Watching David walk into the house, Trace licked his lips again and glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. God damn. He was flushed, his eyes were dilated, and he looked well-sated. Hell. He was about as close as he was getting lately. He threw the car into gear and got on the road.

The sooner he got through the damn meeting, the sooner he’d be back home. It was on the drive to the office that the chilling thought occurred to Trace. David was all better now. He didn’t need Trace to live at his house and take care of him anymore.

DAVID hummed happily, setting the casserole dish on the stove, ready for the oven. He’d cheated and bought a tray of manicotti from his favorite Italian restaurant, but when it came to cooking, he figured the end justified the means. After Trace had dropped him off, he’d run a few errands, reveling in his newfound freedom: a quick stop at the office, the cleaners, and the liquor store. As good as it felt to be self-sufficient, he couldn’t quit thinking about Trace coming home.

Stopping in the driveway, parking next to David as he’d gotten used to, Trace was still troubled, in some ways. He was very happy that David was healed up and could do for himself now, more for David’s peace of mind than anything.

But now that Trace had no real reason to stay, he felt like he should go to his own apartment. Surely David would want his life back to normal, although Trace didn’t see them drifting apart. No, he thought with a smile, they were far too interested in each other for that. He sighed and grabbed the suit bag from the cleaners and headed up the steps. He’d be able to put his other clothes in it along with the clean ones.

Hearing the door open, David called out, “I’m in the kitchen!” 

“’kay!” Trace answered, heading back to the office to hang up the dry cleaning. While there, he looked at the moderate amount of clean clothes—his—that had started stacking up on the shelves in the closet, courtesy of David’s laundry. More of his clothes were here than at the apartment now. He’d have to get a suitcase to get them all home. Standing there, he started gnawing at the side of his thumb.

“Did you get lost?” David asked from the doorway, watching as Trace stared into the closet. Walking up behind him, he wrapped his arms around the slender waist, propping his chin on Trace’s shoulder. “You should have told me you had laundry. I was just there an hour ago. I could have brought it home for you.”

“If you remember,” Trace said, covering David’s hands with his own, “I was more than a little distracted when I brought you home.” He turned his chin to kiss David’s temple. “I was just looking at all my clothes that have piled up. I’ll need a big bag to get them home again.

Then you can start filling this closet back up with all that junk you took out to make room for me,” he said, poking fun at David’s pack-rat habits.

David’s hand had been heading down Trace’s stomach to continue where he’d left off earlier when the comment about going home stopped him. He’d been so happy about being released to do all the things he wanted to do that he hadn’t considered the other implications of the diagnosis. “Uhmmm, yeah.” He stepped back, turning away from the closet, his stomach fluttering in a strange way. “Dinner is almost ready if you want to eat first,” he managed to choke out around the lump in his throat. How could he have not considered that today’s appointment would mean that Trace was leaving?

The tight sound of David’s voice worried Trace, and he turned to see the other man’s frown. “Hey, what’s this?” Trace reached up to rub the furrow on David’s brow. Had David gotten as attached to him as he had to David? “Don’t you want your house back to yourself?” he asked 
curiously. “Don’t think I’m leaving
you
; no way that’s happening,” he asserted as he gently pulled David back against him.

Looking up into the clear brown eyes, David sighed in relief. He could understand Trace wanting to go back to his own home, his own routine. He’d just have to deal with it or do his best to convince him to stay. “It’s going to feel pretty empty without you. I got manicotti from Angelo’s. If you don’t stay for dinner, I’ll be eating leftovers for a week.”

“I love Angelo’s,” Trace said with a grin. He kissed David lightly and rubbed their noses together. “C’mon. Feed me,” he said, taking David’s hand and pulling him toward the kitchen. “’Cause then I have plans.”

David grinned. “I hope they involve me getting to finish what I started this afternoon, because I wasn’t anywhere near done with you,”

David purred, letting his momentum press Trace into the counter when they reached the kitchen.

Trace hummed happily as David pressed up against him. “Oh yeah.

And I owe you, lover,” he said throatily, nipping at the other man’s neck.

“We better eat fast, or I’m gonna hit my knees right here.” God, he wanted to. He’d not tried it yet, and he’d slowly been coming to the realization that he wanted to. He’d tasted David on his fingers, and he’d held him in his hand. But he wanted more. He wanted to see David come apart just like David made him fall to pieces. Or he’d at least like to try to make it happen.

The blond trembled at that husky promise, his nipples and cock hardening instantly. His hips rocked forward against Trace’s leg, his hands sliding down to cup the curve of the brunet’s ass and pull him closer.

“You’d really…? You want…?” He swallowed, unable to finish the sentence with the images flooding his mind.

Nodding and rubbing his cheek against David’s, Trace slid his hands to grip David’s upper arms. “Yeah,” he said huskily. “Wanna try. Want to make you feel what I do when you do it to me.”

A second chill raced up David’s spine. Dinner was highly overrated, and wasn’t pasta always best reheated anyway? His hand dropped down to caress Trace through his jeans.

Trace groaned and moved his hips against David’s hand as his heart pounded. “Okay,” he breathed. “Dessert first.” He lowered himself to one knee, his hands dragging down David’s body. Once on both knees he turned David’s hips so the other man leaned back against the counter and started to unfasten his jeans.

David gulped, looking down at his lover. “Trace? Trace!” he said, tugging on Trace’s shirt.

Heated brown eyes shifted up to glance at David. With his lover’s surprised tone, Trace felt calm descend upon him. He smiled sweetly and nuzzled David’s thickening cock through his boxers. “Yeah?”

Exhaling a stuttering breath, David felt his knees go weak. “Can we?

I want…. Not in the kitchen.” His eyes darted toward the door, incapable of coherency with Trace’s mouth that close to his cock.

Trace tipped his head back. “Okay,” he said agreeably. He climbed to his feet. “What do you want?” he asked, leaning in close to kiss along David’s jaw.

“You,” David sighed. “God. You. Bed or couch. Don’t care, but I need to sit down before my knees give out.”