Better Than Friends (18 page)

“You have the most beautiful ass, honey. I wish I could push you up against the tile and fuck you senseless,” Jack growled into my ear, biting my lobe just hard enough to make me whimper.

Jack turned me in his arms, bringing our chests together as water rained down from the luxurious oversized showerhead above. Our cocks were pressed tightly between us as he cupped and squeezed my ass in his large hands while his tongue swirled and mated with mine. In my effort to get even closer I ended up putting extra weight on my bad ankle. I winced in pain and clutched at Jack’s shoulders for support.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. You need to lie down.” Jack kissed my nose before turning to shut off the water and grab a towel.

I groaned in protest. I wanted to stay naked in the shower with this sexy man, not get carried out like a child. Jack chuckled softly as though he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. He made quick work of drying us both, swatting my hands away when I tried to take care of myself.

W
ITHIN
TEN
minutes, I was dressed in a Captain America T-shirt Jack informed me was a birthday gift from his niece and nephew with a pair of his workout shorts. Both were huge on me, but I didn’t mind. I think there is something truly sexy about wearing your lover’s clothes, and I decided to enjoy it while it lasted. I also chose to not question Jack’s desire to play caretaker to me that afternoon. I couldn’t tell if his kindness was guilt-induced or if he genuinely wanted to spend time with me and my injury had given him the perfect excuse. It didn’t matter either way. I liked his company and I wasn’t going to ruin those two basic facts by overthinking. At least, I was going to try.

Once I was settled back on the sofa in front of his enormous flat-screen television with a baseball game to entertain me, and an ice pack on my elevated ankle, Jack declared it was lunchtime. He made us a couple of sandwiches and set them and a bag of chips on the huge distressed-wood coffee table near the sofa. His coffee table was designer distressed as compared to mine, which was the result of years of use. I was just about to share my observation when he made a funny face and walked back to the kitchen with our plates.

“Where are you going?”

“We can’t eat on the sofa,” he commented as he busied himself pulling out the chairs from around the small kitchen table.

I was baffled. “Why not?” I ate on my sofa all the time.

The proverbial light went on, and I turned as best I could with my leg propped up to get a good look at him.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Jack glanced up briefly and came back to grab a pillow from a nearby armchair. “About what? I don’t want crumbs on the sofa.” His explanation was given with a slight shrug. Jack-speak for “you know why” or “I can’t really explain.” However, the glint of humor in his expressive eyes gave him away.

“Jack. Look at me.” I waited for him to comply before I continued. “I promise not to get crumbs on your sofa and… because I’m a good guy, I’ll even throw in a blowjob if you let me stay where I am.”

Jack grinned widely before succumbing to a bout of laughter. He was still chuckling when he came to sit across from me on the coffee table.

“That’s quite an offer. You promise? No offense, but I run a tight ship here and—”

“Fuck off. I admit that I have a much higher tolerance than you to clutter, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with things being dirty. And I know how to fucking eat without getting food all over myself. Geez!”

Jack pulled his lips under his teeth in an effort to keep from laughing. He nodded slowly, his eyes bright with humor.

“You know I was messin’ with you, right?” He neatly dodged my attack, laughing like a loon as he went back to the kitchen to grab our plates.

We sat watching baseball in a companionable silence while we ate our lunches. Occasionally we’d comment about a play or argue about how it should have been called, but it was friendly, and it felt easy, like yesterday afternoon before the fetish conversation and Paul’s phone call interrupted us.

“Did you know that each baseball game has over twelve million possible plays? Twelve million! Can you even fathom that?”

Huh?

“No. I didn’t know that.” Who
—
besides Jack
—
did? I looked across the sofa at his handsome profile and willed myself to think of… well, maybe twelve million baseball plays. Anything to get my dick to behave and my pulse to slow down. He caught me staring and brushed at his mouth as though he thought I was trying to tell him he had food on his face.

“What? What are you looking at?”

“You. You’re kind of a geek, huh?” I was powerless to stop the amused smirk I was wearing.

Jack raised his eyebrows and matched my smirk with one of his own. “How do you figure?”

“You have this cool motorcycle, tattooed muscle-guy vibe, but you’re a baseball-trivia freak. You look like you’re about to bust at the seams sometimes when you have a particularly interesting tidbit of information to share. I think that makes you a fanboy.”

“A ‘fanboy’? What the fuck is that? I’m just your average guy who digs baseball. That’s it.”

“You’re cute.” I grinned widely at him, captivated by the many facets of Jack.

“Cute?” Jack narrowed his eyes in a mock menacing glare. “I don’t think I’ve been called ‘cute’ since I was three. I’m not cute. And I’m not a ‘fanguy,’ either.”

“The term is ‘fanboy,’ and yeah… you are cute,” I insisted. I figured with my leg elevated he wouldn’t do too much to retaliate.

“Hmm. I don’t think I called you names when I was a guest in your house,” he singsonged.

“Ha! You lambasted my housekeeping skills. I was shamed into getting a cleaning lady. You were a terrible guest!”

“Oh. I guess that’s true. But I’m not taking it back.”

“Well, me either. You’re a cute, geeky baseball fanboy.”

“That’s it!” Jack was on me before I knew what was happening. He straddled my thighs and tickled me mercilessly.

“Stop, stop! My leg is supposed to be elevated!” I choked out as I tried to catch my breath.

Jack stopped suddenly and sat back on one knee, eyeing me lecherously for a long moment.

“I have an idea.”

I gulped and waited for whatever lascivious suggestion I knew was coming my way. Fuck my ankle, I really hoped we might finish what we started in the shower.

“What do you say we go back to my room and you can elevate your leg over my shoulders?” His voice was husky with desire overriding his joking tone.

It was one of those moments I wished I had a great comeback. Something funny and poignant with just the right amount of sex. But I couldn’t form one word, let alone string two together. Was I ready for this? Jack felt like someone I’d known for a lot longer than one month, but… he wasn’t. I wasn’t normally quick to jump into bed with men I didn’t know well. Fooling around was one thing, but “legs over shoulders” was a direct invitation for hot sex. I swallowed hard and looked up at Jack.

Sold. Earth to Curt. Wake the fuck up and stop thinking. Jack was the hottest man I’d ever kissed, let alone blown. I wanted him, he wanted me, so what was there really to worry about? If something came up, I could deal with it later.

I nodded and threw my arms over Jack’s shoulders, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. He groaned into my mouth, allowing me access to slip my tongue inside. Jack cupped the back of my head and grabbed a handful of hair. He yanked my head back against the pillow in a forceful, predatory move that surprised me. I blinked up at him, fascinated and bewildered at the ravenous expression on his roguishly handsome face. I felt a sense of power surge through me, knowing I had something to do with that look. Gone was my earlier trepidation. My confidence was restored.

“‘Legs over your shoulders’? What is it you’re asking for, Jack?”

I traced a line from his high cheekbone to his jaw, then placed my finger on his lower lip. Jack growled low, his nostrils flaring slightly as he devoured my finger in one deft motion. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it with his eyes half-closed. Then his hands started moving. Everywhere and all at once. He pushed the Captain America T-shirt up and splayed his big hands across my chest, gliding them lightly across my sensitive nipples, then lower over my stomach. He repeated the motion with a firmer touch, stopping to rub and squeeze my nipples harder. I arched forward into his hands, mesmerized by the sight of him still sucking my finger as he played, touched, and teased.

He was careful not to put too much weight on my thighs but when he shifted back slightly, I adjusted my foot to give him room and winced when my ankle dropped from its pillow perch. Jack stopped abruptly. He took my finger from his mouth and placed a chivalrous kiss on the back of my hand before standing up. He stared at me from above for a long moment.

“Are you gonna bite my head off if I pick you up and carry you to my bed?”

I shook my head. “I can walk. Just help me up.”

Jack rolled his eyes at what I’m sure he considered obstinacy on my part, but he held out his hand and pulled me easily to my feet. I grasped on to his forearm hard, trying to establish my footing and not put extra weight on my ankle. Jack gave my clutched hand a dirty look and scowled at me.

“Ow?”

“Baby,” I chided, laughing at his put-upon expression.

“That does it.”

In one fell swoop, Jack picked me up like a child and carried me with long, purposeful strides across his living area and into his bedroom. I let out a whoosh of breath when he tossed me on to his king-sized mattress and instantly covered my body with his.

“You’re a barbarian. That’s the third time you’ve picked me up like a sack of flour,” I commented as I pulled his chest down to meet mine. I loved the feel of his massive body over me.

“Hmm.” Jack ran his fingers through my hair as he ground his pelvis into mine. We both gasped at the delicious feel of our hardened dicks rubbing through the thin barrier of our shorts. However, it wasn’t anywhere near enough contact.

Jack pulled up over me, caging my head in between his tattooed arms. The sight of his beautiful ink surrounding me sent another unexpected wave of desire racing through my body. I lifted my hips upward to meet his in invitation. I wanted him flat on top of me, closer and with a lot less clothes on. I yanked at the hem of his T-shirt, trying to push the fabric out of the way so I could explore his impressive chest. Jack shifted back off me, making me whine in protest.

“I want you, Curt. I want to be inside you, fuck you like crazy… but I don’t want to hurt you. Your foot….”

I sat up, leaning on my elbows, and eyed him incredulously.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Fuck my foot. I want you…. I…. Jack, I’m no good at this stuff. I admit I’m usually cautious and careful about almost every damn thing in my life. If I think too hard about this, being here in your bed, I can easily come up with ten different reasons why this isn’t a good idea. But the truth is, I don’t want to talk myself out of this. I want this too.”

Jack inclined his head slightly but moved away from me off the bed. I stared at the ceiling, confused. Had he changed his mind?

“Hey. Look at me,” Jack demanded. His head tilted to one side thoughtfully, he continued in a soft voice. “Honey, I was talking about your ankle only. I never changed my mind. I tend to be a little physical sometimes, and I was thinking I… we should slow the pace down. That’s all. I’m not having second thoughts.” He let out a low chuckle and smiled down at me kindly. “I rarely do.”

I licked my lips, relieved we had established we were on the same page. “Now what?”

“Let me take control. Will you? Do you trust me?”

His words spoken in his sexy, low voice had me tongue-tied. I nodded and bit the inside of my cheek nervously.

“Good.” Jack winked at me before lifting the hem of his T-shirt to reveal his gorgeous torso and flinging the garment aside. He hooked his thumbs under the elastic of his shorts and slowly lowered them, freeing his rock-hard member.

I gulped, feeling instantly light-headed. I sat up and tossed my T-shirt over my head quickly. My hands were on my shorts when Jack stopped me with a tsk-tsk noise. He moved back toward the bed and straddled his naked body over my chest. I stared for a long moment at the wide head of his beautiful penis. It lay hard on my upper stomach, too far away for me to touch or lick. I looked up to see Jack’s heated gaze watching me closely.

“Can I suck you?” My voice was hoarse with need.

Jack didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled my arms over my head and held them tightly in his right hand. Then he leaned up on his knees and bent forward so his stiff cock was now inches from my mouth. Our eyes locked, and Jack gave a slight nod, wordlessly granting permission.

I stuck my tongue out and ran it over his slit, tasting the precum that was starting to puddle there. Jack’s groan of approval made me anxious to taste much more of him. I bathed the head of his cock, licking it incessantly with catlike instincts. I grunted in surprise when he used his free hand to guide my mouth further down his length. I took the not-so-subtle hint and opened my mouth wide to suck as much of his dick as possible while flat on my back. Jack controlled the movement, gently fucking his cock down my throat. He freed my hands and leaned back to grip my impossibly hard flesh, stroking me as I sucked him wildly. My breath hitched slightly when he released his hold and moved lower to fondle my balls. I was dangerously close to sensory overload and I certainly didn’t want to come yet.

Jack leaned back further, freeing his cock from my mouth with a popping sound. He bent down to kiss my lips sweetly and adjusted his body so my dick rode the crease of his ass in a maneuver that had us both sighing. Jack crawled over me toward the nightstand, opened a drawer, and came back with a condom and lube.

“We’re going slow now, honey. You doin’ okay?”

“Mmm.” I licked my lips in anticipation. I hadn’t been on the receiving end in some time. Hell, I hadn’t had actual sex in a while.