Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (32 page)

He wanted this. He
definitely
wanted this.

Until Memphis began to insert a finger. Tyler sucked in a sharp breath, and they both froze. God, it had been so long,
too
long. Seriously, it was just a finger. But still…

Several seconds passed.

“You know what I remember best from college?” Memphis asked.

Clearly he’d caught on to Tyler’s struggles. And, yes, his sphincter factor of ten was probably a huge clue.

“The look in your eyes every time I’d walk into a room,” Memphis went on. “You remember, don’t you?”

Tyler could barely breathe, much less respond to a question. “I remember you screwing me until…” His voice trailed off.

Memphis smiled against the back of his neck, slowly fucking him with his finger. “You turned into a sweaty, sated, boneless mess, practically drooling incoherently on the mattress?”

“Yeah,” he said with a weak snort. “Exactly.”

Memphis added another finger inside, and a soft noise escaped Tyler, something between a moan and squeak. Between pleasure and a
hell no
. He knew he needed to make a conscious effort to relax. He knew the hang-up was all in his head, but, good God, this had the potential to be a total fail.

Memphis backed off and went slower, continuing to gently work Tyler open. “But it’s the expressions on your face that I remember most.”

Tyler glanced at him over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “The
holy Christ
look?” Much like the one he was probably wearing now.

“No.”

Fortunately, the man appeared to be in no hurry. Good thing, too, because Tyler was beginning to have serious doubts. Maybe he should―

“I’m talking about the expression you’d get when I entered the room,” Memphis said. “One glance and I knew you were mentally on your back and spreading your legs.”

A huff escaped Tyler at the obvious attempt to seduce him.

Memphis’s voice was low. “Spreading your legs or dropping to your hands and knees and begging me to fuck you.”

Tyler whimpered low in his throat.

Because, Jesus Haploid Christ, ridiculous or not, he couldn’t help but be swayed by the words and the memories. The feel-good sensation increased, relaxing his muscles and letting more of Memphis inside, eventually leaving a delicious hum in its wake.

“The visual of that fuck-me look is permanently stored in my spank bank savings account,” Memphis said.

Which fuck-me look? The one Tyler wore back then? Or the one he was wearing right now?

Memphis brushed against Tyler’s prostate, and all his neurons fired at the same time, sending sparks everywhere. A groan of pure pleasure bubbled up from Tyler’s chest. The sound seemed to encourage the use of more and bolder fingers from Memphis. Obviously the man remembered exactly how to make this work, because Tyler began to push back with every thrust of Memphis’s hand, panting and wanting more.

Tyler tried to speak. “Please, just…”

With that, Memphis pulled out his fingers. This was followed by the rustling of a condom package and latex being rolled across skin. Without missing a beat, Memphis began to ease in. The tight fit seemed too much to ask, and Tyler briefly tensed, but then he focused on breathing. With steady pressure and a bit of patience, the head of Memphis’s cock finally breached the ring of muscles and settled firmly inside.

Jesus
, the stretch.

Tyler remembered the stretch. But mostly, he remembered when Memphis had turned the sensation into pleasure, and, good God, he’d missed this. He’d missed this man.

Five thumping heartbeats later, with neither of them moving, Memphis finally spoke. “You okay?”

Tyler tried to breathe through the old familiar feeling of fullness, too overwhelmed to do more than mumble, “’M okay.”

And then Memphis brushed a finger across the tip of Tyler’s cock, sending a breath-stealing spike of need up his dick and ripping a guttural groan from his throat.

Memphis wrapped his arm around Tyler’s chest and began to move. His hips settled into a steady rhythm, gradually taking more. It didn’t take long before Tyler moaned in encouragement. A delicious heat did away with the last of the discomfort. He managed to keep himself together until Memphis thrust in hard and paused on the upstroke, making Tyler’s prostate hit a high note.

“Memphis―”

Christ.

“You feel so fucking good,” Memphis murmured. “Just like I remember.”

Tyler used to come without a touch to his dick. Memories of the past and the happenings in the present intermixed, making every sensation that much sharper. Skin slapped against skin. Sweat dotted his forehead. Their harsh breaths filled the room.

“Oh, God,” Tyler ground out, too close to the edge for logical thinking. “I’m going to―”

Memphis increased the power and intensity of his thrusts, and Tyler fisted his hands against the wall, trying to hang on. But counting by prime numbers and focusing on unsexy images wasn’t going to work. He knew he should slow Memphis down, because his pumping hips were going to make Tyler come too soon, and he always came too soon, and,
damn it
, after all this time, that hadn’t changed, either.

But his body wouldn’t listen. Instead of pulling away, all he managed to do was tip his hips back in invitation, taking him deeper and murmuring
yes
over and over again.

Not exactly an effective way to encourage him to slow down.

A pressure of need built in the base of Tyler’s spine. His legs started to shake, and he thought he’d break out in flames if he didn’t come. Fingertips biting into skin, Memphis gripped Tyler’s waist and his shoulder and thrust hard.

The orgasm punched out of Tyler, and he arched his back, his whole body going stiff with intense pleasure for one…two…three beats.

And then every muscle went slack.

Memphis caught him around the waist, and Tyler dropped his forehead against the wall with a soft
thunk
. Stars still flickered behind his lids, and every cell felt lethargic. Several seconds ticked by, and he became aware of Memphis’s hard cock, still buried inside.

Of course
he wasn’t done, because Tyler hadn’t been able to last long enough.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“No problem.” Chest damp with sweat and heaving from exertion, Memphis said, “It’s all part of my diabolical plan.”

Tyler was too busy supplying adequate oxygen to his brain to comprehend anything. “You mean the plan where I embarrass myself by finishing too soon?”

Good Lord, it was college all over again.

Memphis chuckled and pulled out, the loss making Tyler’s muscles spasm for a second, and he let out a choked sound. Memphis turned him until his back was propped against the wall, efficiently dealt with his condom, and then steered Tyler toward the bed. Still dazed, he stumbled a bit.

“Finished?” Memphis smiled as he gently pushed him down onto the mattress. “Who said you were finished?”

Back pressed against the sheets, body buzzing in a post-orgasmic high, Tyler blinked stupidly, staring up at him. Surely he wasn’t going to do what they
used
to do in―

Memphis lowered his head to Tyler’s abdomen, scattering the thought. He barely breathed as Memphis kneaded his thighs and nuzzled the trail of hair just below his navel. Memphis began to lightly flick his tongue across the tip of Tyler’s spent cock, each swipe creating little shocks of pleasure, and Tyler sucked in a breath.

What was the guy trying to
do
to him?

But he was too lax and loose from the happy-endorphiny high to really care, so he spent a minute simply enjoying the hot breath on his stomach and the slick slide of Memphis’s tongue as it cleaned the few wayward drops of cum clinging to his skin. The man dragged his palms down past ribs and muscles, dipped his thumb in Tyler’s navel, and then on to the trail of hair leading to Tyler’s dick.

It wasn’t until Memphis sat back, his cock still hard, and reached for another condom that Tyler realized his intentions.

“Seriously?” Tyler croaked out as he watched Memphis pull on the latex and lube himself up again. “I can’t…”

Memphis ignored the protest and pushed up on Tyler’s knees. “Sure you can,” he said. “We used to do this all the time.”

He leaned forward, kissing Tyler’s nose, an eyelid, and his temple before gently nipping at Tyler’s mouth. Memphis tasted salty, like cum and sweat, his upper lip damp from both. And then he lined up with Tyler’s hole and gently pushed, not stopping until he was fully inside.

“God.” Tyler’s breath came out in a long
whoosh
.

For a moment, Memphis didn’t move.

And then, with a small smile and his face close, he smoothed his thumb across Tyler’s cum-slicked bottom lip. “This was how I always liked you best,” he said softly, the affection in his tone and the gentle touch so at odds with the words coming from his mouth. “On your back, loose, already fucked out and wide open.”

“Christ.” Heart thumping, Tyler gripped Memphis’s arms as he waited for him to move, his voice nothing more than a strangled sound. “You’re
killing
me
.
”

Memphis began rocking his hips, barely drawing out before pushing back in. Short, sharp thrusts that took everything Tyler had. This wasn’t about speed or force, this was about going as deep as possible.

As if he’d planted himself deep inside Tyler’s ass and had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Memphis pressed a heartbreakingly sweet kiss to his mouth and then hooked Tyler’s knees over his arms, adjusting their bodies until they were so close Tyler could barely breathe. Foreheads touching, noses lined up side by side, the corners of their mouths brushed with every arch of the man’s hips. Every once in a while, he’d nip Tyler’s lower lip, sending a shocking surge up his back, followed by a soothing lick. Memphis settled into a rhythm that was slow but, somehow, still intense.

With every thrust, Tyler’s cock rubbed between them, the coarse hair and damp skin creating a delicious friction that eventually had him hard again. His throat grew tight in anticipation.

With every arch of his hips, Memphis hit Tyler’s prostate, lighting him up from the inside out. Soon, his dick was leaving wet smears of precum on his abdomen.

“
God
.” Tyler dug blunt fingernails into Memphis’s biceps, and a long, low moan rolled from his lips for what felt like forever.

“I remember that sound,” Memphis murmured with a grin. “It was my favorite.”

Memphis braced his arms wider apart, a movement that spread Tyler’s legs farther and lifted his hips, until Memphis was so close Tyler felt a brief moment of panic that it would be more than he could take.

“Fuck.” Tyler shifted his arms and dug his fingertips into Memphis’s back and held on. Memphis hit his sweet spot again, and Tyler arched his back, the word harsh. “
Fuck
.”

Memphis pressed their heads together and began to murmur things Tyler was too far gone to understand. Sweat dripped down his neck. The room filled with the sound of panting breaths and skin on skin and Memphis’s sex-slurred words. And holy Christ on a stick, Tyler’s groans were coming out
way
too loud. Memphis’s hips began to stutter, and he let out several telltale gasps that Tyler recognized.

Hair damp and sticking to his forehead, Memphis closed his lids, his cheeks flushed. “Ty―”

His voice broke off, and when he opened his eyes, he looked just like Tyler felt: as if with one touch he’d come undone. Tyler reached down and gave several tugs on his own cock, urging Memphis to go faster.

The bolt of pleasure rushed through him, and Tyler arched his neck as he came. And this time, Memphis was right behind him.

~~~***~~~

Hours later, Memphis lay in his hotel bed and focused on the feel of Tyler’s arm around him. He enjoyed the shared heat and mostly bare skin, although now he was wishing he’d removed Tyler’s shirt.

The room was dimly lit. Heavy drapes blocked the fading light outside, all except for a sliver visible through a crack in the curtains. But Memphis didn’t want to sleep.

He scooted back, seeking better contact, and Tyler shifted in his sleep, pulling their hips closer. A deep sense of contentment thrummed in Memphis’s veins. The feeling had been near impossible to achieve lately.

Until Tyler Michael Hall had reentered his life.

Earlier, Memphis had received his second-ever eye roll from Today’s Tyler. And damn if he wasn’t beginning to love that look.

His cellular buzzed loudly, and Memphis stretched forward and swiped it from the nightstand, his fingers knocking over the bottle of lube. He flinched, hoping the noises wouldn’t wake Tyler. He glanced down at the text message and then sighed, carefully returning the phone to the bedside table.

“Who was that?” Tyler asked sleepily.

Memphis’s muscles tensed, and he considered lying. Lying, of course, would be a shitty thing for him to do even if it
would
make things easier. He shifted backwards, and Tyler gathered him against his chest again. Memphis closed his eyes and threaded their legs together, enjoying the warmth of skin on skin, the sense of
rightness
that moved through him. Yeah, this was totally where he belonged. Too bad it had taken him so long to figure that out.

Worse, it was too late to matter much anymore.

Memphis cleared his throat in preparation. “It was my mom.”

He twisted in Tyler’s arms to try and read his expression. All he saw was curiosity.

“What did she want?” Tyler asked.

Memphis forced himself to maintain his gaze. “To follow up on our conversation this morning.” He rolled his eyes, striving for a light tone. “Jules ratted me out. She called my mother to recruit her help in getting me to go for my annual visit with the oncologist.”

A
what difference would a visit make now?
thought popped into his head, and he bit back a sharp scoff. He refused to waste his time being bitter.

Silence followed the announcement, just as he’d predicted, and he could sense Tyler gearing up for The Discussion. Memphis had hoped the guy would let the issue go.

Memphis puffed out a breath. Tyler would
never
let the issue go. But maybe he could be distracted, at least until tomorrow.