The Queen & the Homo Jock King (62 page)

“Yeah, they came to my house this morning and staged an interrogation while role-playing Good Cop, Bad Cop, Corrupt Cop.”

“Role-playing
what
? I don’t even want to know what the fuck that—”

“And then they yelled at me for a while, because Paul thought I was stringing you along, but he didn’t know that you could give me a word boner. Hell,
I
didn’t know you could give me a word boner.”

“Seriously, stop saying
word boner
—”

“But then Vince asked why we were fake dating, and I couldn’t really figure it out, because
why
were we fake dating again? And then I remembered you never would give me a reason. You said I couldn’t ask you. That it was your rule ten.”

He blushed furiously.

“Oh my god,” I said, voice slightly strangled. “How can you make blushing erotic? That’s unfair!”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “How the hell did we even get here? And what the hell was with the following me in Halloween costumes today?”

“Halloween costumes?” I said, scandalized. “Those were motherfucking
disguises
that were well thought out and appropriate for the situation.”

He arched an eyebrow at me.

“Okay. Maybe not
completely
appropriate,” I said. “But who am I to say no when Vince wanted a mustache and Corey wanted to wear a peach-colored suit?”

“And Paul?”

I snickered. “Yeah, that was pretty funny. He’s going to be mad at me for at least a week. Totally worth it.”

“And you followed me because you were jealous.”

“Right,” I said. “I was completely—oh no. No, no, no. You don’t
get
to put that back on me!”

But that smirk was already coming back. “You
liar
.” He looked like he was crawling his way back to even ground. “You
want
me. You thought I was fucking around with Caleb and you
followed
me.”

“Nope,” I said. “We just wanted to go out and eat and happened to choose the same place as you did. Nothing more than coincidence.”

“You threatened the waiter and the hostess.”

I scoffed. “That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

“It really does,” he said, amused. “I thought they were acting weird, and if I hadn’t already seen you as soon as we were being seated, I would have thought it weirder than it was.”

“The fact that you think I’d threaten waitstaff to do my bidding shows exactly what you think of me.”

His grin only got bigger. “Yeah, because a person stalking another person would draw the line at threatening the waitstaff.”

“
Stalking
? There was no stalking!”

He shrugged. “I didn’t say I minded. Not that there was anything you had to worry about.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured when you kissed my butt in the alley.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

“I don’t even remember what we were talking about,” I said. “How did we even get here?”

“I feel like that’s a common question in your life.”

“Better get used to it,” I said, suddenly rather nervous.

His smile softened and became more genuine than I’d ever seen it before. “Yeah?”

“Rule ten,” I said. “Can I ask you now?”

He nodded and took my hands in his again.

“Why did you agree to do this?” I asked him. “Why would you do this for me?”

“Because,” he said. “I thought it would be the only chance I’d get to be near you. To be with you the way I wanted to. I’d wanted you for so long that I didn’t really know anything else anymore. But you hated me and any time I even got close, you’d lash out and I’d fight back and I didn’t want that anymore. I was willing to take anything you’d give me. And if it was this… fake thing, then I’d take it. I thought maybe I could show you I wasn’t like you thought I was. That I wasn’t a fucking asshole. That I wasn’t like my father. I needed to prove it to you as much as I needed to prove it to myself.”

“And was any of this about your father?”

He snorted. “Absolutely not. I learned a long time ago that nothing good would ever come from him for me. Andrew Taylor may be my father, but he’s not my family.” He looked me straight in the eye and said, “This was always about you. I was going to take what I could get, because I thought having you like this was better than not having you at all. And that was one thing I could not stand. The thought of not having you at all.”

And it was about that time that I learned that there was only so much boner-making words a person could take without recourse. My limit came with
this was always about you
and went over the edge with
not having you at all
. Add in the fact that it was said with such a level of earnestness that only Darren and Vince seemed to be capable of… well. It was really more than I could take.

So I don’t know that I could be blamed, then, when instead of acting as a normal person would to a strange and somewhat scary confession of feelings (say by announcing said feelings in return), I launched myself at him instead.

He let out a squawk unbefitting of someone his size and stature as he fell back off the stool, landing on his back on the floor with me on top of him, the skirt hiked up around my thighs as I lay flush against his chest, ear over his heart.

“Ow,” he said.

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “That was my bad.”

His body shook slightly underneath me, and it took me a moment to realize he was
laughing
at me.

“It’s not funny,” I pouted.

“You just
tackled
me. I tell you I have feelings for you and you
tackle
me? Sandy, what the hell.”

“Maybe you deserved to be tackled,” I muttered, and then his hands were on my hips and I completely forgot about anything else I wanted to say.

I lifted my head slowly to look down at him. His eyes were open and his gaze was soft, almost like he was
fond
of me. I’d never seen him look at me like that before, and it did things to me.

“Um,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said when he could feel the things it did to me.

“I’m usually not this easy,” I said with a frown. “It actually takes quite a bit more—”

He gripped my hips, holding me down as he began to push up, grinding into me gently. “I guess I should take all the credit for that, then.” And before I could come up with a suitably witty and devastating retort that would have left him emotionally eviscerated, he surged up and kissed me.

It wasn’t like the times before. It wasn’t because of necessity. It wasn’t because of desperation. It felt almost like relief, like sweet, giddy relief that maybe we could
finally
have this. That it could be ours. That it could be real. There was no deception behind it. No half truths. He wanted it, and given by the way I was clambering all over him, I
definitely
wanted it.

The problem with making out with a man with big hands and who seemed to like sucking on your tongue is that eventually, clothes become horrendous obstacles that should be destroyed at all costs (and you wonder, really, in some far reach of your lust-addled brain, why they are even necessary to begin with). I didn’t even know how it happened, though by the look on his face, it must have happened quickly. One minute I had his tongue down my throat, and the next, I had his shirt rucked up around his armpits while I scraped my teeth against his nipples, his hand pressed to the back of my head, holding me against him, fingers tensing and flexing, digging into my scalp. The groan he let out as I flicked my tongue across one hardened nipple vibrated against my lips. Wanting to hear more of it, I bit down.

I heard a lot more of it.

Also some cursing, but he didn’t let me go.

If anything, he pulled me harder against him.

“Greedy,” I mumbled against his skin.

“You have no idea,” he gasped as I continued my quest south.

“You’re lying on the floor upstairs in a gay bar where I’m about to show you I don’t have a gag reflex,” I told him as I palmed his dick through his jeans. “I have some idea.”

He gaped at me, face flushed.

I grinned at him.

He said, “You don’t… what?”

“At least I’ve found where all your blood has gone,” I teased. With a practiced flip of my wrist, I snapped open the first button on his jeans, pleased to find they were button fly. I didn’t know why that did it for me, but it did.

He grunted as I mouthed the head of his dick through his briefs, wetting the fabric. He lifted his hips as I pulled his jeans down to midthigh. I thought about prolonging this further, really making him work for it, but I didn’t have the patience. I’d told him that I couldn’t be Helena, not all the time, and that was the truth. But she was never far from the surface, always a piece of her raring to break through and take what she wanted.

And right now, Helena Handbasket wanted some cock.

I pulled his briefs up and over his dick, resting them under his balls. I was pleased to see he didn’t shave them. His cock was a pretty thing, not the monster cock one would have expected someone like Darren to have. In fact, it wasn’t much different than my own, maybe a little thicker. It had a wicked curve to it, arching up toward his belly button, the tip flushed red and skin tight.

The noise he made when I wrapped my hand around it and
squeezed
was almost a sigh, and the muscles in his stomach clenched and contracted. I settled myself between his legs, resting my chest on the floor, my dick aching deliciously. Darren propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at me with wide eyes. He made an appealing picture, mouth slack, tongue wetting his lips, his nipples slick with my spit.

“You know,” I said, almost conversationally, jacking him off slowly with a dry hand, knowing it wasn’t
quite
enough friction to get anywhere aside from driving him slowly insane. “I’m really very good at cock sucking.”

“That right?” he said hoarsely.

I wasn’t sure where this ego trip was coming from, but I
liked
it. Maybe it was more Helena than me, but there was something wonderfully dangerous about having the Homo Jock King spread out before me like this, chest heaving and
wanting
. “That’s right,” I agreed, mouth close to the head of his cock, so much so that I knew he felt my breath on his skin. I jacked him down, making sure my pinkie brushed up against his balls. “And you are so very, very lucky to find out just how good.”

And because life could always stand to be a bit pornier than it actually was, I spit on his dick, a trail of saliva catching on my bottom lip and falling on his cock. I squeezed as I jacked upward, the slide creating a
squelch
that caused his hips to thrust up.

“You’re going to want to hold on to something.” I grinned up at him.

His eyes were already clouded and sex-stupid, but he still managed to say, “Wait. What? What do you mean hold on to—”

I took him in my mouth and to the back of my throat in one smooth motion, barely feeling the twinge on the back of my tongue. He shouted roughly as my nose hit his pubes. I kept my face pressed down there, breathing shallowly through my nose, swallowing as best I could to work my throat around his dick. It was wet and messy, saliva dripping down his cock and onto his balls. I reached up and fondled them as I slid my mouth up his dick, using the barest hint of teeth.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as I watched him through my eyelashes. “Jesus fucking Christ, you—”

He cut off in a strangled yelp when I gripped his dick again, one hand on top of the other. I sucked on the head as I jacked him low and hard, swirling my tongue into his slit. My lips felt puffy and my eyes were wet and I
loved
it. I
loved
it because of the power I had over him. Most think that sucking dick is a submissive act. That couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, it’s complete control, even if you’re on your knees.

I pulled off his dick, the taste of him sharp and bitter on my tongue. “I said you should hold on to something,” I said, voice rougher than it’d been before. “I’ll give you a hint. The back of my head. Because you’re gonna want to fuck my mouth.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Indeed,” I said.

He tentatively brought a hand up to my head as I licked the underside of his dick, tracing that fat vein up his length. His grip was soft. Gentle. I didn’t need soft and gentle. I needed a good fucking grip so he could use my mouth like I wanted him to.

I reached up behind me and covered his hand with my own. Making sure he was watching, I tightened his grip, really making him dig in. “I like it hard.” I felt him shudder beneath me. “You can pull my hair if you want. That’s what it’s there for.”

He rolled his eyes, an action quite daring since I was so close to his dick with my teeth. I nipped at him gently for his insolence and he jumped and narrowed his eyes down at me. As if to show that he thought he still had the upper hand (and just how cute was that?) he really grabbed on, fingers curling in my hair and pulling sharply, enough to cause a jolt of bright, glassy
pleasurepain
to roll through me.

He pressed me back down to his cock, and I let it rub along my face, my lips as I continued to stare up at him. His pupils were blown, and he was propped up on one arm while using the other to tug on my head.

I licked his flared head before swallowing him down again. He thrust shallowly at first, barely getting half his dick in before pulling back out. He held my hair tightly enough that I couldn’t move my head. He pushed up again and went deeper. And then deeper. And deeper, until he was hitting the back of my throat with each thrust.

I ground against the floor, knowing how fucking dirty this was. People were still singing out on the back patio, and I could hear them laughing in the bar downstairs. We’d done this once, for show, back at the beginning. But that had been fake. This was real, if the litany of curses that fell from his mouth told me anything. There was something about getting my face fucked in a public place where we could get caught at any moment that was doing it for me.