Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (20 page)

“Ty….”

Memphis’s rumbling sound of satisfaction died only to be replaced by another, and he would have been embarrassed by his repeated whines of pleasure if he weren’t so close to coming already. As Tyler continued to place sucking, biting kisses on his neck, Memphis tried to capture his mouth with his own, craving another wild, bordering-on-painful kiss. Tyler, evil bastard that he was, ignored his efforts and pulled his hands out from beneath the jeans.

Tyler jerked open the buttons of Memphis’s pants, the motion rough.

Double fuck
.

“God, yes,” Memphis ground out. He figured his approval required some kind of verbal confirmation. “I’m so glad I jumped and pissed you off.”

An intense look flashed across Tyler’s face, their gazes locked in a brief battle for control, their breaths loud in the small compartment.

Without a word, Tyler hooked his fingers in Memphis’s waistband and then shoved, jeans and boxer briefs dropping to the floor as the man’s eyes remained glued to the now naked body before him. Memphis quickly toed off his shoes and stepped out of the clothes, impatiently kicking the fabric to the side. When Tyler’s hand landed on Memphis’s cock and pulled him closer, Memphis sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fair warning,” Tyler said in a low voice. “I’m stronger than I used to be.”

“I’ve noticed.”

God, how he’d noticed.

Tyler slowly began to pump his cock. “You nervous?”

“Should I be?” he asked, heart thumping stupidly hard.

His gray gaze grew dark. “Probably.”

With just two more strokes of Tyler’s hand, a strangled sound escaped Memphis’s throat. Heat built in his groin as Tyler continued to work him, and Memphis feared the whole thing would be over before it started. Jesus, he needed Tyler to get a move on. He’d been waiting for days. Hell, he’d been waiting for this for
ten years
. He couldn’t come at the hand-job stage.

Memphis went to pivot on his heel, intent on presenting his ass to Tyler.

Tyler gripped Memphis’s wrist, preventing the turn. “Stay still.”

“God, man,” he said, frustration burning in his gut. “I need you to move faster.”

And, yes, the coward in him was trying to hurry this along so Tyler wouldn’t learn the truth, not yet. Not before they―

His brain stuttered to a stop when Tyler bent forward, picked up his tie, and began to wrap it around Memphis’s wrist.

What the hell?

It wasn’t until his hand was securely bound to the handrail that he recovered the ability to speak. “After I left you,” Memphis asked with a stunned tone, “did you attend some sort of college kink camp?”

Tyler didn’t respond, his eyes molten fire as he flicked open the buttons of his shirt.

Gaze fixed on Tyler’s now partially bared chest—and the distracting display of skin and lean muscle—Memphis leaned his head forward, intent on capturing his mouth. He had to take a taste. He wanted to feel more of that delicious combination of frenzied need and pain again.

Tyler dodged the attempt. “No pushy bottoms allowed,” he said as he gave the tie a firm tug, the fabric tightening around his wrist.

“Shit.” Memphis inhaled sharply and almost creamed his pants—well, except for the fact he wasn’t wearing any.

So his ex-boyfriend had some dominant traits Memphis had never known existed. So Memphis had found a way to get the man to use those skills on him. After all these years, why was he reacting like a newbie to sex?

“You know,” Memphis said as he tipped his head, burying his reaction in sarcasm, “to be a proper kink, you need to tie up the other hand, too.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“And in the interest of full disclosure,” he went on, sending Tyler his best grin, “I don’t believe in safe words.”

Memphis felt Tyler’s barely audible snort brush against his cheek.

“God forbid you choose the
safe
option. But this isn’t a kink,” Tyler said. “I’m trying to keep you still.”

The man’s mouth landed on a nipple and sucked hard.

Needy pinpricks tingled along the base of his dick, and Memphis instinctively arched his back. “Well…hell,” he said with a breathy moan. Screw pretending he wasn’t on the brink of blowing his load. “Why would I wanna move now? We’re just getting to the good stuff.”

With a huff, Tyler gripped his hips and dropped to his knees so quickly that the movement stunned Memphis. God, when they’d lived together, how many hours had they spent in
this
position? Despite that, he wasn’t quite prepared when Tyler closed his mouth around his cock and took him deep in one graceful swoop.

“Oh, God,” Memphis hissed.

His ability to form words ended.

Instead, he savored every freaking familiar sensation. Tyler, dressed in slacks with his shirt unbuttoned, was on his knees, Memphis’s cock sliding past his lips. His mouth was just like he remembered, warm and wet and insanely out-of-this-world talented.

Sweat dotted his back, and Memphis stared down at the lips stretched around him as Tyler bobbed his head. His cheeks hollowed out with every pull, followed by a swirl of his tongue that ended with a flick at the tip. Every dip of the man’s head wound Memphis tighter and tighter until…Tyler’s throat opened completely, and Memphis plunged deep inside.

He clutched Tyler’s hair, tugging at tufts of black. “You―” he panted out,
are freaking brilliant
.

Memphis rocked his hips forward, saliva slicking the way as he fucked into the only mouth who’d known
exactly
how to please him. Heat flooded his groin, making his heart pound harder while Tyler dug his fingers into the back of Memphis’s thighs in encouragement, his mouth stretched tight around his cock. The guy was sucking him off like it was the most incredible thing happening to him, too.

The sight of Tyler taking it all in sent a hot, warning shiver up Memphis’s back, and he felt himself getting closer. “Please, I need to―”

And then that wonderful mouth released him with a sucking
pop
.

“Ty―”

“Not until I say so.”

Jesus, this was all a part of his evil plan to
torture
him.

Stunned and disoriented, Memphis blinked as Tyler licked the precum pearled at the slit and then stood up. He gripped Memphis’s shoulders and kissed him hard, sharing the salty taste before nipping his mouth again. With the sharp sting, a groan rumbled low in Memphis’s throat, and he joined in on the frenzied biting of lips and tangle of tongues and bruising of skin, until Tyler reached down and cupped his balls.

Memphis nearly choked. “
Fuck me.
”

A shocked, three-second pause followed, and he realized the jig was up. Tyler had figured it out. The expression on his face, the dawning light in his gaze made it clear…

Now he knew.

Mouth parted in stunned silence, Tyler dropped his focus to the scar at Memphis’s right groin before shifting to the matching scar on the left. There was no hiding the truth anymore. Memphis pushed the discomfort aside.

Fear was for wimps.

“During my last bout of cancer, my uni-baller status got revoked,” he said. “My second testicle went rogue, too, and I officially became the no-nut wonder.”

Silence.

Tyler blinked and rasped out, “Memphis…”

Jesus, no sympathy. He didn’t want sympathy. He couldn’t,
wouldn’t
stand for it.

Especially now.

Memphis tried to lighten the moment. “I’m officially all meat and no potatoes.”

“Shit,” Tyler muttered, casting him a sharp frown. “It’s not funny.”

Memphis had never been happier to see a look of disapproval on Tyler’s face, because disapproval beat the hell out of pity. He’d lost a lot, but the one thing that couldn’t be surgically removed or irradiated or killed with chemo was his sense of humor.

“Of course it’s funny.” A deliberate grin pushed up one corner of Memphis’s mouth. “My family practice doc has me on testosterone replacement therapy. You know the joke, right? Testosterone makes you horny. Who else can up their levels of the hormone at will and―”

“Stop.” Tyler gripped the back of his neck.

Lust and frustration hit him hard, and Memphis kept his gaze fixed on gray eyes, heated breaths washing between them. “Trust me,” he said with a serious tone, his voice rough. “The sex life hasn’t been affected too much. The orgasms are a little different, but I still make a decent wet spot and everything. There is
nothing
wrong with my libido or my ability to fuck—or get fucked.”

All true, except he’d added the last bit on a whim because he didn’t
really
know about the getting-topped part. He could see the dilemma in Tyler’s eyes, the man struggling to figure out what he should say next. But Memphis didn’t want to talk about his damn medical condition. God, he
needed
this man to screw the holy hell out of him.

And he knew exactly how to get Tyler to focus back on what was important.

“So the question is…” Memphis said with a smug smile he knew the man would hate, “are you gonna help me with my bucket list by fucking me or not?”

“
Sonofabitch.
”

Tyler’s eyes flashed as he gripped Memphis’s hips and turned him until he faced the wall. The anger in Tyler’s face in the mirror and the sight of Memphis’s wrist bound to the rail were seriously turning him on again. All traces of concern seemed to have disappeared from the man, thank God.

His ex knelt behind him and searched through the pockets of Memphis’s jeans. When he pulled out the condom and lube, their gazes met in the mirror, and Memphis’s heart began to thud in anticipation. His pulse picked up even more when Tyler’s mouth landed on his ass. Lips and teeth took a turn at his cheeks, Tyler apparently determined to leave his mark there, too.

The small nips and a wet tongue and sucking kisses on his skin drove Memphis crazy. “Hope the hickeys on my ass won’t show through white boxers―”

Tyler spread Memphis’s cheeks, and with one lick at his hole, the rasp of tongue sent a sizzle along sensitive nerve endings, melting Memphis’s mind. Somehow, at some point, Tyler had opened the package of lube. Removing his tongue, he pressed a slick finger inside his hole, pulling an unidentifiable sound from Memphis’s throat.

Oh, God.

With his free hand, he gripped the rail, balling the bound one into a fist. The sensations intensified as the delicious stroking of the finger continued and his muscles relaxed, taking the digit deeper, the tip landing on his prostate.

“Holy fuck,” Memphis gasped, the freaking fabulous pressure drawing his words out. “I had no idea that would feel so good.”

Without a word, Tyler spread Memphis wider, delved deeper as he continued to work him open, intermittently hitting the sweet spot. Memphis let out a loud moan, his muscles straining as he pulled against the restraint cutting into his wrist. With a little time, soon Memphis was murmuring encouraging words and tipping his ass back, matching Tyler’s rhythm.

God, he wanted Tyler to fuck him. He wanted to fuck Tyler.
Christamighty
, he
needed
to end the torture one way or another. Unfortunately, the torture only increased when Tyler removed his fingers.

“No…” Memphis grasped his cock, seeking a little relief.

But Tyler gripped his wrist and returned Memphis’s free hand to the rail.

“Don’t. Move,” Tyler said.

An electric pulse shot through Memphis’s limbs.

“God, Toppy Tyler is freaking
hot
,” he said
.

The words seemed to piss Tyler off all over again, and he stood. Memphis heard Tyler wrestling with the front of his pants, and then Tyler had the condom and more lube in place and his hard length nudged against his hole.

Memphis gripped the rail, pretending every muscle wasn’t shaking, and everything went into slow mode. A smooth, overly slick, condom-covered cock pushed forward inch by inch. Memphis forced himself to breathe through the sensation of being stretched and filled and expanded beyond what he was sure was a reasonable capacity, staring at the intense look on Tyler’s face in the mirror.

The sensation of being filled grew and grew until―

“Whoa,” Memphis said, drawing out the vowels and panting out the breaths as Tyler slowly pressed the rest of the way inside.

Once fully embedded, Tyler leaned his forehead against Memphis’s shoulder and paused, breathing hard. Whether the act was meant to slow himself down or out of pure pleasure or simply to give Memphis time to adjust, Memphis didn’t know. A groan or a moan would have helped interpret Tyler’s mood, but he remained silent.

But, holy effing Christ, after all these years, Tyler was inside him, and the feeling was…indescribable.

And then a soft kiss, a gentle whisper of lips between his shoulder blades, left Memphis confused, the act so at odds with the fierce expression he’d seen before and―

Tyler slowly drew back and began to thrust his hips.

Stars flared behind Memphis’s eyelids. “Jesus,” he said, bracing his free hand against the mirror.

It was all he could do not to fly apart.

Tyler pressed his palm against the back of Memphis’s hand, lacing their fingers together, the cold mirror hard beneath their knuckles. With the other, he gripped Memphis’s hip.

The stretch and burn and
pleasure
continued with every snap of Tyler’s hips, and the look on his face became focused and determined. Cheeks flushed from exertion, he proceeded to fuck him with an intensity that left Memphis swearing every other thrust. Unfortunately, not a single sound escaped Tyler’s lips. And while the momentum of his hips was beyond awesome, Memphis was still left wanting to hear some noise. Why was Memphis the only one moaning? Why was Tyler gritting his teeth, as if holding back?

Was Tyler trying to be careful, afraid Memphis, cancer victim extraordinaire, couldn’t handle it? Was he worried he’d hurt him?

Oh,
hell
no.

He wanted to feel the burn. He wanted to feel it tomorrow and the day after that and well into next week. Jesus, he wanted to carry the feeling all the way to the freaking grave.

“Is that it?” The effort to speak cost him, and Memphis hoped it didn’t show. “Is that all you got, Ty?”