Five Boroughs 01 - Sutphin Boulevard (10 page)

I stalked over to him like a heat-seeking missile and threw myself on the sofa alongside him with my face buried against his neck. Wanting some contact with another person turned into me cuddling and nuzzling Nunzio and then transformed into my crotch fitting up to his ass through his baggy sweats. The hint of pressure made my body react without permission of my brain, and the previous hesitations about complications and reliving our one-time fuck session vanished. No intelligent thoughts were left in my head—just base instincts to be spread open and fucked by my best friend. For longer this time.

“What are you doing?” Nunzio mumbled, voice muffled.

I pressed harder against him and made a sound of protest when he shifted and faced me. We sank deeper into the time-worn cushions, his knee between my thighs and our faces not even an inch apart as he stared at me with sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes. It struck me that Nunzio’s eyelashes were very long and that he was possibly the most beautiful fucking man I’d ever seen in my life.

I grinned and his lips quirked.

“You’re so stupid when you drink.”

“You shoulda come. That guy was there.”

“What guy?”

“David.”

Nunzio’s scowl ruined his rumpled sexiness. I regretted saying the name.

“I mean—yeah. Danielle.”

“Wait, was it David or Danielle?”

“Uh. Both, I think?”

Nunzio didn’t seem too impressed, but the scowl was replaced by a smile.

A burst of fondness swelled in my chest. I remembered why David was the dreaded new guy, and that the rumor mill wouldn’t be grinding so aggressively about Nunzio if David had stayed the hell away from McCleary. Why the fuck had I been dancing with him?

I realized that I didn’t want Nunzio to know I’d been all over David. I nuzzled Nunzio’s face again, hoping it would save me from having to fess up.

“Did you have fun?”

I made a vague sound and kissed his cheek. He felt and smelled so good that I dropped another kiss along his jaw. Nunzio tensed, but his hand slid up and dropped onto my hip.

“How do you look so hot when you wake up?”

“Natural beauty,” he deadpanned.

I dragged my teeth against his jaw, and his breathing hitched.

We barely fit on the couch, and we’d have been more comfortable in the bedroom, but I didn’t want to move. Being locked together wasn’t so bad.

“Clive used to be so jealous of you,” I murmured.

Nunzio stroked the skin of my back with his thumb, moving in slow circles. “Really?”

“Yeah, he thought we hooked up when we went out drinking. After he saw us dancing one night.”

“I don’t blame him. We be all over each other.”

“Like now?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Nunzio leaned back a little, his face bewildered. “Christ, you’re drunk. Go to bed.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Yeah, but you’re making my dick hard, and I don’t want to deal with that. Just a few hours ago you looked at me like I had four heads because I teased you.”

“No.”

Nunzio squeezed my hip. “Yes. Why didn’t you push up on David?”

Inebriation leads to the type of honesty that can never end well. “I thought about hooking up with him, but he was too drunk.”

A low sigh ruffled my hair. I thought Nunzio would pull away, but he slid his hand fully up my shirt. I arched my back, reveling in the sensation, and nipped at his jaw again.

“You think I’m a good backup?” Nunzio rumbled in my ear.

“No.”

“So why’s your dick so hard?”

His other hand snaked between us and palmed my crotch, kneading my dick. My eyes slid shut. I couldn’t think of a response because every working brain cell zeroed in on the feel of my cock finally getting attention, and the need to keep that stimulation going no matter what.

I latched my mouth to Nunzio’s neck, sucking payment into the skin. The soft sound he made indicated that he liked it, so I didn’t stop. I was addicted to the taste of him while he rubbed me off through my jeans. His hand spasmed, fingers twitching like he wanted to delve them into the stiff fabric.

I rocked my thigh forward and he eagerly responded, grinding his dick against me with a breathless chuckle. Encouraged, I dragged my teeth over his neck.

Nunzio’s breath caught, and then his fingers were yanking at the buckle of my belt and ripping out the tongue with hectic impatience. I attacked his clothing in return—pulling at the waistband of his sweatpants and shoving them down to get at the thick cock beneath. His lack of underwear only made my blood pump faster, rushing to the iron-hard length of my dick.

The situation went from playful to single-minded when the teasing turned into outright desperation. We panted into each other’s faces and gripped each other’s cocks.

“Shit,” Nunzio muttered wetly. “Tighter.”

I complied, jerking his cock with a viselike grip while I bucked into the cave of his curled fingers. I didn’t try to muffle the sounds that were ripped out of my throat with each pump of his hand. The pressure, each twist of his wrist, the speed—all of it was so perfect that coherent thought was replaced by ecstatic starbursts in my mind.

It was hard to focus on getting him off when I was turning into a useless mound of trembling limbs and needy groans. At one point, I could do nothing but clutch a handful of his hair and gasp while he went all tantric on me.

“Fuck, Nunzio,” I gritted out, thrusting up into his hand.

He chuckled. “You like it like that, Mikey?”

“God, yes. Feels so….” The words got lost when he jerked me faster. Heat coursed inside me and dispersed in the way of curled toes and frantic humping. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah…,” Nunzio said softly. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Shh…. Just make me come. Make me—oh
fuck
.”

Nunzio shivered when I blew my load. I sealed our lips together and sucked on his tongue while covering him with my semen. He responded with a hunger that stole my breath and blazed fire through my veins.

I enjoyed the sated feeling for only a moment before I realized our lips were still together, his tongue stroking mine in a sensual way that was fitting for our first real kiss. I’d come all over Nunzio’s stomach, and my fingers were still locked around his dick.

A niggle of worry clawed at me, and I pulled away. “Shit.”

Nunzio’s body was taut with unreleased tension. He pried my fingers off his sticky cock and replaced them with his own. I sucked in a breath and sat up, unable to look away from the sight of my best friend splayed on the couch.

He shoved down his sweats so they were caught around his ankles and fucked his own hand, arching into it and throwing back his head like a porn star. I couldn’t stop staring at his parted lips, the way his throat worked with each swallow, and most of all the sight of his cock all slicked up by my semen.

“Michael.” His voice was choked and urgent. “Goddamn, I wish you’d touch me.”

The words broke through my daze. All it took was one glimmer of pleading blue eyes through the curtain of his thick lashes for me to sink down to my knees and bury my face between his thighs. I ran my tongue over his knuckles, then his fingers, and then he was fucking my mouth with thrust after brutal thrust.

Twice he pulled out when he got too close, and our eyes locked. He smeared the sticky head of his cock against my swollen lips, teasingly tapping it on the flat of my extended tongue, and then he dragged me closer, so I could take the length down my throat again. Nunzio threaded his hands through my hair and held my chin with his other hand, moaning with complete abandon until his voice cracked and he choked out my name.

I swallowed every drop when he came, licking the slit like I wanted more. His stomach quaked and he sighed, thighs parting while I lapped at him like a slutty cat.

“God, you’re fucking hot,” Nunzio muttered.

I pulled away, and the head of his dick popped out of my mouth. I grinned like a fool, but I was too far-gone to care. He tasted amazing.

“Not bad,” I said. “Not at all.”

Nunzio sat up, studied me, and then dragged me up by the collar so I was on the couch next to him again. His lips crushed to mine, licking inside, twining with my tongue, and kissing me so deeply that I couldn’t keep up. When Nunzio pulled away, he was bright-eyed and I was breathless.

“Go to bed,” he whispered. “Before I fucking rape you.”

I nodded, thinking that it wasn’t rape if I begged for it, but I knew it was better to scramble my ass to the bedroom before this session of fooling around turned into an all-nighter. Judging by the way his hands were roaming all over me, he wouldn’t mind at all.

I clumsily got to my feet, and Nunzio reached up to smack my ass. After flipping him off, I tugged up my jeans and stumbled to his bedroom, managing to get there with only one crash against the wall.

I ripped off my T-shirt and threw myself facedown on the bed, leaving the door open. It wasn’t quite an invitation, but I wouldn’t have minded if Nunzio took it as one.

I
T
FELT
bizarre to stand in Nunzio’s kitchen cooking breakfast after what had happened the previous night. I had spent the night in his apartment more times than I could count and had cooked a hangover breakfast for us almost every Sunday for the past ten years. Had our fooling around changed that dynamic? There was no way to tell until he woke up, but I worried the entire time I scrambled eggs and poked at the bacon with a fork.

A loud yawn floated in the archway from the living room. I tensed and listened as Nunzio’s slow, heavy footsteps headed to the bathroom. My eyes remained on the pan, but I lost focus, hyperaware of every move Nunzio made in the apartment.

An edge of paranoia worked its way through my bloodstream, infecting my flimsy shreds of confidence about handling the situation. I’d leapt out of bed with remnants of regret and a gripping fear that I’d made a massive mistake by throwing myself at him, but resolved to act as normal as possible to see if he followed my lead. The directive had guided me out of bed, through the process of washing up and finding a change of clothes, and to the kitchen. I hadn’t doubted the plan… until now.

The bathroom door creaked open, and I took a quick glance at myself in the reflection of one of the glass cabinet doors. The memory of his heated stare and murmured words of appreciation prompted me to run a hand through my spiked-up hair, which was a red flag in and of itself. I’d never cared how I looked in front of Nunzio before.

“Aw, were you gonna make me breakfast in bed?”

“You wish.”

Nunzio stood beside me with his phone in hand and looked into the pan of bacon. “Maybe you should just let me do it.”

“What?” I looked down. The bacon was starting to burn on one side. “Fuck.”

Nunzio nudged me out of the way and confiscated the fork. I hovered by his side for a moment, close enough to notice the damp curls of his hair around his face and smell his minty toothpaste, before I turned to the coffeemaker.

I poured a cup and took a seat at the tiny dinette before giving him a discreet once-over. He was shirtless and wearing a pair of cotton pants that hung just low enough to draw my gaze to his ass.

Nunzio flipped the bacon and glanced at his phone. “Damn, this election is getting ridiculous. I don’t know why the union is supporting totally useless candidates for mayor. Dude must have blown someone to get this much support.”

The word blown just reminded me of the night before, and I wondered if normal adults could make it through the day without taking everything as an innuendo. Or a reminder of past sexual experiences. Not that six hours was that far in the past.

“Anyone will be better than who we have now.” I nodded at the covered pan on the back burner. “There’s eggs.”

“I’m surprised I had any.”

“I am too. They were almost expired. You should go shopping.”

“I should start doing a lot of things. I need to start going to the gym again too. I’m going to get all out of shape.”

“Yeah, you really look in danger of that.”

Nunzio patted his stomach, fingers smacking the bumps and ridges of his abs. I stared at the light trail of hair that went down his stomach and disappeared into his pants. I looked away to avoid ogling his bulge.

Did I use to check him out like this? I didn’t think so, but there was no real way to tell if I’d always done it, or if I was just more conscious of it after having had his dick in my mouth.

“Hey, you never know,” Nunzio said. “My metabolism could drop, and I could wake up one day with a gut. Anything could happen—we’re getting old.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Nunzio went back to thumbing at his phone, and I settled into the rickety wooden chair. Focusing on how awkward and ungainly I felt sitting at his tiny IKEA kitchen set was preferable to trying to figure out why I was now so obsessed with his body. Casual sex was not something that usually sent me into a high-strung state of overanalysis, but playing ball with my best friend had never been in the cards before.

He glared at whatever was displayed on his phone, and I snorted. Apparently the state of politics in the city had him all up in arms this morning.

“Put your phone away.”

“Nah, I’m trying to catch up on this nonsense. I’ve been out of the loop all summer.”

“Yeah, but you also haven’t seen me all summer, so I want some attention.”

I watched the edge of his mouth curl up in a smile that he wasn’t quite ready to reveal, as though it was a secret that my words pleased him. Nunzio made a big show of hitting the button at the side of his phone to shut off the screen before dropping it onto the counter.

“Happy now, needy bitch?”

“Very.” I smirked. “You know I like being the very center of your world.”

“You are, motherfucker. Like I hang out with anyone else?” Nunzio jerked open a drawer and pulled out a box of cigarettes, then popped one into his mouth. He bent down to light the end off the flame on the stove, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the way his pants slid down to reveal the seam of his ass.

“You don’t like anyone else,” I pointed out.