Shy (9 page)

“Fine,” he snarled. “Jerry and I wash our hands of both of you.”

“Now wait a minute—” Jerry started.

“Shut up, Jerry.” Stanley glowered at Jerry like maybe he was ready to throw him out too. He turned his mean little eyes to Frank and me while Jerry stood there looking horrified and helpless.

And before Jerry could say another word, Stanley slammed the door in our faces with a nasty grin.

Can’t say I was surprised.

The only thing surprising to me was that Frank’s hand was still firmly ensconced in my back pocket. It seemed to have found a home there. And I was pretty sure that in my eagerness to piss off Stanley, I had also committed to letting the rest of Frank move in too. Into my apartment. Into my life. Good God. What had I done?

I didn’t say two words on the long cab ride home.

Neither did Frank, since he was cuddled up beside me with his head on my shoulder, sound asleep. Or passed out. Whichever.

Just before he drowsed off to sleep he had muttered, “I really like you, Tom.”

“I really like you too,” I muttered back, just loud enough so the driver wouldn’t hear, but Frank’s eyes were already closed. I didn’t know if Frank heard me or not.

Having nothing better to do as the cab wended its way through the empty late-night streets toward home and hearth, I leaned in to kiss the top of Frank’s head. He was softly snoring. He’d never know. I left my lips in his hair and breathed in his fragrance as I thought things over.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of my apartment building twenty minutes later, I had come to two fairly astounding conclusions.

Number one. I was more than happy to let Frank Wells move into my life.

And number two. I was hopelessly smitten with the man, which pretty well explained number one.

And all it took was a twenty-minute cab ride.

This from a guy who once obsessed for three hours about which condiments to put on a hamburger.

I
F
I
still harbored any misgivings about Frank moving in, they didn’t last more than fifteen seconds after we walked in the front door. Frank came to me while I was still locking the door. As Pedro humped my ankle in his customary Chihuahua howdy, Frank sweetly cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine ever so gently. If he was still drunk, it didn’t show. His eyes were clear, the irises as bright and green as sunlight sifting through a forest canopy. From behind those thick black lashes of his, he watched me intently as our lips came together.

At the feel of Frank’s warm mouth on mine, I closed my eyes and savored the taste of him. His hands slowly slid away from my face, rested briefly on each side of my neck, and then he wrapped his strong, fuzzy arms around my back and pulled me close.

With his lips still on mine, he mumbled, “Thank you.”

All I could do was nod. My heart was doing somersaults inside my chest, but not a SAD somersault. This was a
good
somersault. The kind I hadn’t felt since what’s-his-name moved away. It actually took me a minute to place the name. Jerry. Since Jerry moved away. I smiled in the middle of Frank’s kiss and he smiled in return.

“What?” he asked softly, breaking the kiss to slide his lips across my cheek.

“Nothing. I just forgot my ex’s name.”

“Good,” Frank said. Our mouths came together again. His hips were pressed tightly to mine. I was hard. So was Frank. I could feel it. I was beginning to tremble.

My tongue shot out and licked his front teeth. “There,” I said, leaning back to look in his eyes, gauging his reaction. “Got that out of the way. I’ve been wanting to lick those choppers since you first walked through my door.”

“Strange,” he said. “I’ve been wanting to do this.” And he slammed his mouth down on mine. His lips opened wide to encompass my own, and his tongue dove in, Greg Louganis style, sort of a half gainer with a big wet twist. When our tongues slammed into each other, I could really taste him. I actually thought I might do one of those Aunt Pittypat swoons for a second. God, he was sexy. Frank tugged my shirttail out of my pants and burrowed his hands underneath. He ran his hot palms along my ribcage, stroking the fine hair on my stomach, sliding around to my back, outlining my shoulder blades with his fingertips. Everywhere he touched, I burned.

He was still wearing my yellow sweater. I yanked it over his head so fast I almost tore our noses off. “Ouch,” we both said, and laughed.

My lips slid away from his mouth to kiss the dimple in his chin. Then his throat. I ran my tongue over the topography of his Adam’s apple, all sharp and hard and bobbing up and down when he swallowed. He seemed to be swallowing a lot. But then, so was I. I kicked off my shoes, scooted Pedro out of the way with my foot, and slid my lips down Frank’s chest, brushing first one nipple with my tongue, then the other. His chest was warm and smooth and felt like heaven. He smelled of my soap. I liked that. I could hear his heart beating a syncopated rhythm in counterpoint to my own, slightly off-kilter, like two drummers pounding out different beats at the same time.

He stroked my face, gently easing me downward. Coaxing, not pushing. I clutched his ass and pulled his stomach into my face, breathing in his smell. God, his skin was so hot. He held me there. I kissed his belly button, then nibbled at the little cluster of hair that trailed from his belly button downward. Frank was hunched over kissing the top of my head. His belt buckle was cold and sharp against my chin, and I reached up to undo it and get it out of the way. I could feel him kicking his shoes off while I worked at the belt. His legs were shaking. I really liked that.

I was fully on my knees now, and Pedro was getting into the act, first humping my thigh, then hopping around while his humper was still going to tackle the back of Frank’s ankle. He’d work on Frank’s ankle for a while, then hump his way back to me. He was starting to snort and pant. Pedro, I mean. Not Frank.

“I don’t do three-ways,” Frank finally said. “Can we move this into the bedroom?”

“Are you talking to me or the dog?” I asked.

“The dog,” he said.

I stopped what I was doing and looked up into Frank’s face. He grinned at my sour expression. “Kidding,” he said. “Just kidding. I was talking to you. Duh.”

“Thank God,” I said. “I was about to tear up your lease.”

“I don’t have a lease.”

“That’s right. You might want to keep that in mind the next time you toy with my sensibilities.
Pedro, stop humping!
”

“Does
he
have a lease?”

I was pressing my cheek against something long and hard that was stashed under Frank’s zipper. I couldn’t imagine what it was but I was damned tootin’ going to find out. “Pedro doesn’t need a lease. It’s his apartment. He only allows me to stay because I buy the groceries and let him sleep between my legs when the weather is cold.”

“Oh, God, I think I’m going to come.”

“Really?”

“Naw. Just thinking about sleeping between your legs.”

“Don’t scare me, Frank.”

“Uh-oh,” Frank said. “I feel a bout of shyness coming on.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. Your dick is pressed against my cheek and it’s as hard as a rock. That is your dick, isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s not a howitzer.”

“So it won’t go off, then?”

“Oh, it’ll go off when it’s ready.”

“Are you really feeling shy?” During this whole conversation I had not once stopped nibbling at the crotch of Frank’s jeans. I was like a hog rooting for truffles.

He tried to give me a lackadaisical shrug, but he was trembling so hard it was a pretty sorry attempt. “The shy feeling’s passed. Now I’m just horny.”

“Oh good,” I said, and meant it.

With that, I slid Frank’s zipper down and out sprang the most beautiful cock I’d ever seen. I tugged his jeans down to his knees and what do you know. No underwear.

I licked a drop of moisture from the tip of his dick and Frank gasped. Then he said, “Oh shit!” And before I could move, his sperm shot over my head and landed in my hair. He pressed his crotch into my face, and again his sperm shot out, smearing my cheek, my nose, my lips. I licked it away and took his cock into my mouth to finish the job.

Frank’s come tasted sweet and hot and scrumptious. His whole body was trembling like a tree in a windstorm as I sucked the last delicious drops from him. His pubic hair smelled clean and warm against my face. The hair on his legs tickled my cheeks. His balls lay heavy against my chin.

“Oh God,” I said.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Frank said.

He roughly pushed me away from his dick and slammed me down onto the floor on my back, practically driving the air out of my lungs. He peeled my pants off and flung them across the room before I knew what was happening.

Pressing me flat to the floor with a hand to my chest, he circled my cock with his other hand and slowly stroked it, drawing back the foreskin as I lifted my head to watch him. With every light in the apartment blazing, I saw it all at high res. So did Frank. He smiled and said, “Beautiful,” before slipping it between his lips. Two seconds later, I came. My back arched and Frank rode me like a bronco as I came and came and came. Jesus, I couldn’t seem to stop.

With my cock still in his mouth, he looked up to see how I was feeling about the whole thing. He stroked my stomach, caressed my balls, and slowly, oh so slowly continued to suck me dry as he explored my body for the very first time with his wandering hands. He seemed to like what he was finding.

Then he laughed. Still licking and tasting my dick as if there was nothing else in the world he would rather be doing. He casually pulled the remaining clothes from our bodies with one hand while caressing my chest with the other.

Finally, he gave my cock a last lingering kiss and stretched out beside me on the floor. Once again, Frank cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine, leaving them there for the longest time, as if absorbing and committing to memory every heart-pounding moment we had just shared together. I could taste my come on his mouth and I knew he could taste his own on mine. It was not the first time I had experienced that with a lover, but it was the first time I had experienced it with Frank. And his innate sweetness and the gentle, open-eyed way he made love, made that kiss, without a doubt, the most erotic kiss I had ever experienced in my life.

When the kiss finally ended and he pressed his face into my neck to cuddle, I whispered into his hair, “Lord, Frank.”

His lips moved against my throat. “It’s been a while.”

“For me too.”

“Don’t talk,” he said. “Let’s just hold each other.”

And so we did, lying there on the foyer floor. Pedro finally stopped humping and curled up beside us. He was asleep in no time. Sex always did wear him out. His or anybody else’s. Frank and I fell asleep maybe an hour later, still wrapped in each other’s arms. We hadn’t spoken another word, but our hands never seemed to rest as we lazily explored each other’s bodies, stroking, caressing. Snuggling. Just before I dozed off for good, I pulled an afghan from the recliner and covered us up. Frank plucked two throw pillows from the sofa to stick under our heads. We slept until dawn, spooning on the foyer floor.

When I opened my eyes, Frank and Pedro were gone. Maybe they eloped.

Five minutes later, I was having a panic attack, complicated by the worst hangover I’d suffered in years. And through it all, I
still
had a smile on my face.

Talk about mixed signals.

Chapter 6

F
RANK
came through the front door with a Sunday paper under his arm. He was dragging a pissed-off Pedro along behind him, tethered and grumbling at the end of his leash. Frank looked happy and bright-eyed, his cheeks rosy from the morning air. Pedro looked like he would gladly disembowel the first human who even
remotely
tried to cheer him up. Pedro
hated
morning air.

I was standing naked at the kitchen sink with an aspirin bottle in one hand, an inflated paper bag in the other, and a hard-on.

Frank took in the hard-on first. In fact, maybe that’s
all
he took in.

“Somebody’s up,” he said. “In more ways than one.”

I stuck the paper bag over my mouth and took a couple of deep breaths, wide-eyed, watching Frank. I continued to breathe into the bag even when Frank dropped to his knees in front of me and took my cock in his mouth.

“Panic attack?” he asked around my dick.

I nodded. The paper bag crackled as it ballooned in and out. I closed my eyes at the sensation of Frank’s mouth encircling my cock and when I did, the aspirins fell out of my hand and rolled across the floor. I dropped the paper bag and clutched the sides of his head.

Forming actual words was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. “Please, God, take your clothes off.”

“Don’t call me God,” he said, looking up at me with those incredible green eyes, his words slurred because his mouth was full of my throbbing pecker. “Call me Frank. Please. And before I take my clothes off, I want to show you this.”