Bad Things (4 page)

Xavier touched the inside of Porter’s elbow with the back of his index finger and traced a path down his silky forearm, over his wrist, into his palm, then took hold of his hand and pressed it over his own erect cock, trapped against his thigh, straining against his pants.

Yes. Fucking hell, yes, that flare brightening behind those dark eyes. That startled twitch at the corner of Porter’s mouth. Caught off-guard by the sudden surge of his own need.

“
Why be coy, James? Did you come here to fuck? Or not?”

He flexed his hips and drove the length of his thrumming cock against Porter’s palm.

“Yes.”

“
Yes, what?”

“
I came here to fuck you.”

“
Good.”

Xavier came in for a kiss, but Porter pulled back. “No kissing.”

Xavier grinned. “I beg your fucking pardon?”

“
Just sex. No kissing.”

The throaty growl of a laugh Xavier had when he was in full-on hunter mode rumbled out. “You want to fuck. But you don’t want to kiss?”

He watched the flame of need in Porter’s eyes shrink to a spark of fear.

“
Because, what? You’re more faithful to your wife if you don’t kiss me? You’re less of a fag if you don’t let me put my tongue in your mouth?”

Driving his hips forward, he pressed Porter up against the wall, wedged his knee between his legs, and wrapped both hands around his neck. Porter caught both his wrists, his hands constricting fast and hard. But then he waited. Even when Xavier tightened his grip, and the hard ridges of Porter’s vocal chords pressed against the pads of his thumbs through the tender flesh of his throat. Then he brought his mouth to his. Almost. Breathing each other’s breaths.

Hard to read the bright point in his dark eyes. Fear? The flare of the urge to fight? Want?

But a quick glance down gave him his answer. Hard proof.

This is what he loved. Fucking ached for. This impossible, quivering moment split in two between reluctance and need.

Xavier opened his mouth, more like a man about to savor the first bite of a meal than take a first kiss, but he waited, hovering there, Porter’s full, tender bottom lip and his slightly rough chin grazing Xavier’s lips. Porter didn’t flinch away. He stayed still. Let him.

Xavier descended into a kiss, that plump lip fleshy between his, sharpening his appetite, wet tongue sliding against the crease of his mouth, opening him, tasting his tongue, tequila seasoning Porter’s own distinctive flavor. He was still, passive, rigid through that first, wet parting and penetrating of his lips, still gripping Xavier’s wrists as if he might try to pry himself free. But now Porter was trembling, yielding, opening and rising to that kiss as if devouring a first meal after a long fast.

Xavier abandoned his mouth, leaving him gasping like a fish stranded on sand. Taking one hand from Porter’s throat and sliding it over his groin, Xavier grinned and squeezed that thick length of hard dick.

“Be still, now. I want to have a look at you.”

Xavier let go of his throat, and Porter stayed still, that bright spot in his eyes flaring and shrinking, fluttering between anxiety and need. The best prey of all: the man used to taking control.

When Xavier slid the windbreaker off Porter’s shoulders, Porter reached for the buckle on his holster.

“
I told you to be still.”

Porter laughed and started working the tongue through the buckle. “I don’t fuck around when it comes to my weapon.”

“I said leave it. I want to know you trust me.”

That light in Porter’s eyes shrank and darkened. Not fear. Cool, solid determination. “It’s not about trust. It’s about responsibility. Some rules, we follow to eliminate the need for judgment calls.”

“But I want you to make this a judgment call, James.”

“
You want me to break protocol, protocol to do with my weapon. To give you a thrill?”

“
Yes.”

Porter’s lips compressed.

“And the harder it is for you,” Xavier said, “the more I want it.”

Porter’s mouth was still set in a tight, angry line. But that warm light flared up in his dark eyes again. Xavier pushed Porter’s hand away from the holster and started unbuttoning his shirt. The fluttering flame in Porter’s eyes steadied and brightened.

Fucking sexy as hell, his torso. Big, meaty pecs, broad chest. Thick and sturdy. Not cut, but not a trace of flab. Dark nipples like two chocolate drops against his caramel skin. Xavier teased them with feathering fingertips, then slid his palms over his silky smooth pecs, the lightly tufted center line running down his chest, over his abdomen. Back to those dark nipples, peaked and stiff now. Xavier caught them between the pads of his thumbs and the sides of his fingers. Gave them a gentle squeeze. Drank in the sound of Porter’s sigh like nectar. Tugged and drank the next groan along with a deep kiss, Porter’s warm wet mouth open and hungry now. No hint of resistance. He twisted his nipples until Porter grunted out loud into Xavier’s mouth. Sucking. Biting.

Panting. Grinning. “Do you like kissing me?”

A reluctant half smile of concession. Just one dimple. “Yes. I like kissing you.”

“
Good. I’ve got something else for you to kiss.”

He unzipped, reached in, and released his cock from the torturous restraint of his pants. He never tired of that look. Surprise mingled with want and apprehension.

“Jesus Christ, man. I’m proud of my big black cock, but you are fucking up some stereotypes, here.”

“
Sorry about that.” Xavier planted his hand on Porter’s shoulder. Pressed down. International sign language for, “get on your knees and suck me.”

When Porter locked eyes with him, that flame fluttering again, Xavier waited for the inevitable protest. A man who doesn’t kiss surely doesn’t suck cock, either. But Porter sank to his knees, spread open Xavier’s fly, gazing at his cock, thrumming more insistently with every passing second as James caressed his waist, then slid his hands down, dragging his pants off his hips. Just as Xavier was about to take Porter’s head between his hands and guide him to the main event, Porter wrapped a hand around the base of Xavier’s cock and slid the tip between his lips.

Fuck. That first contact. That wet. That warmth. That soft squeezing embrace of lips. That fucking maddening rubbing of a muscular, velvet tongue.

Then, yes. Jesus Christ. Porter making an honest effort to take him deep in his mouth. That sweet slide back over the firm press of tongue. But he was barely a few inches in, and there was that spasm as Porter gagged on his dick. That torment of suddenly popping free of the thrilling, even comforting wet heat of a man´s mouth.

“First time?”

“
First time with a fucking horse cock in my mouth, yeah,” Porter joked. But Xavier was pretty sure he was just putting on an act of bravado.

“
It’s okay. Take your time. Sword swallowing isn’t mastered in a day.”

He loved teasing them. Pulling the rug of self-assurance out from under his conquests. Not sadism. He was sure. Almost. It was more about how, the more quickly you wore away a man’s mask of self-assurance, the sooner you got to see the real face underneath. And he was pretty sure he was going to like Porter’s face.

James.

“
Here.”

He took his cock in one hand, and cupped James’s chin in the other, and brushed his cockhead—fuck it was engorged and dark with need—against his lips. Meat against meat, pushing at that luscious flesh, distorting the shape of his mouth before nudging his lips open and pushing his way inside.

“Suck. Like a baby nursing.”

Compliant. Willing. Another honest effort.

This always happened. Even with experienced men. Even men with a reputation for their talent for sucking cock. Whenever he was buried in a man’s mouth, he longed for Dario, who lingered in Xavier’s imagination not for the longevity or density of their
amistad
—several affairs had lasted longer and been more dense in their frequency—but for the consuming intensity of their encounters.

But this was a different pleasure. Because James was the type of man who liked control. And at this moment, he had none. Zero. Because Xavier had out-alphaed the alpha. And because the alpha was new at this other role. Inexperienced. Awkward.

“Look at me while you suck me, James.”

Yes. That flame in his beautiful eyes burning like a barn on fire.

Sliding his hands around to the back of James’s head, Xavier drove his cock between his lips, watched the flare of alarm ignite in his eyes, waited for the convulsive spasm of the other’s throat around the head of his cock, and pulled back just enough to let him recover, then started fucking his mouth. Slow and shallow. But it was enough to keep the alarm sparking in his gaze, still obediently turned up to him like a supplicant in prayer.

“
I want to come while you’re doing that. On your knees, eating me, almost choking on me. I want to watch your face when I fill your mouth with my come.”

He drew back and his cock bobbed free of James’s lips. He sighed at the sight of his meat, ruddy and turgid and wet with James’s spit, a glistening string of saliva stretching between them for a second before it collapsed against James’s chin. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“But that’ll have to wait. Because now, I’m going to fuck you.”

He watched the surge of that bright flare in his eyes, then caught James under his arm and hoisted him to his feet. Kissed his swollen lips. Tasted his tongue. Fuck, he loved kissing a man tasting of his cock.

“Unless you don’t want me to.” He couldn’t resist grinning.

James didn’t smile. But he held his gaze. And he didn’t say no.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“
I’m just…”

“
What?”

“
I don’t usually…”

“
Bottom?”

“
Yeah.”

Xavier grinned. “James. Are you a virgin?”

James’s adorable half smile embellished with that one dimple. “No. But you’d only be the second. And the first was a long time ago.”

“
Well, don’t be nervous. I’ll take good care of you.”

Saying that, saying it in that tender, almost patronizing tone wiped that smile off James’s face. And it made him breathe a little faster.

Xavier ducked into his bedroom and came back with lube and a fistful of condoms. Dropped them on the sofa cushion.

“
Come here.”

When Xavier reached for the buckle on the holster, James caught his hand, but just leveling a look at him, Xavier got him to drop his hand and let him finish. He set the gun on the coffee table, then stripped James out of his shirt.

Such fucking gorgeous skin. Dulce de leche. And the smell of him. Christ, Xavier wanted to devour him. He kissed, deep, hungry, only getting more ravenous because James was kissing him back, so God damned eager, now. And the way James felt under his hands. Velvety skin. Big, solid muscles under firm flesh.

Kissing. Unbuttoning. Unzipping. Warm, hard fistful of cock. James breathing loud and fast.

Xavier broke the kiss, plunged two fingers in his mouth while James watched, his focus sharpening again, then Xavier slid those fingers down along the cleft of James’s ass, and found his hole. James’s body went taut.

Xavier grinned. “What?” Rubbing back and forth, massaging around the perimeter of his hole. “It doesn’t feel nice?”

An attempt at a smile. “It does.”

“
Yeah?”

He pressed with just the tip of his middle finger, sighed at the slow yield and dilation of the muscle, and pushed in, just to the first knuckle. Then let it slip out and went back to rubbing his puckered barrier, then the flesh between his hole and his balls.

“Do you like that?”

“
Yes.”

Xavier broke out the lube, slicked up his fingers, and went back to teasing James’s hole. Working his hand between those beefy cheeks, moving his fingertips back and forth along his tight crack, taunting his hole, slowly forcing it open and pushing the full length of his finger inside, devouring James’s sweet, low groan.

His skin tasted slightly salty. Good, manly smell. Nipple hardening under his tongue. Asshole sucking on his finger. Christ, he needed to fuck this guy.

When he got up to move around behind him, James started to take his pants off.

“Leave them.”

He liked it like this. James’s pants in a wad at his ankles. Deliciously obscene. Him too, all his clothes still on, hard cock jutting out above the pants sagging down at his hips.

Beautiful back. Broad and strong. Xavier kissed the nape of his neck. Licked his moist flesh. Bit gently. Bit harder. Until he got a little grunt of pain.

“
Grab the back of the couch. And spread your knees.”

Xavier nudged him a few inches to the left, framed him right in the center of the mirror on the wall. Kneeling on the cushion, James tilted forward and assumed the position. Fucking hell, the sight of him, ass proffered. Silently begging to be pierced and filled. And reflected in the mirror, his expression, all fretful anticipation.