Authors: Z. A. Maxfield

Tags: #m/m romance

Jacob's Ladder (28 page)

BOOK: Jacob's Ladder

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“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” JT flushed slightly.

I knew what he was saying. Whatever was between us, there were no rules yet established. He might pick me up in a suit and zip around to help me out of the car, but he might also want me to pull him into my arms under his parents" porch light and kiss him like it was prom night. He was too new to have a modus operandi, and I, too experienced at this to want one.

I took him in my arms then and kissed him like I meant it. The minute my lips touched his, he relaxed, opening for me, sending his tongue out to play with mine.

He locked his arms around my neck while I slid mine up to cradle the back of his head. I let one of my hands slip down, all along the indented column of his spine, to rest at its base and press his hips to mine. He arched into me with a whimper.

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Z. A. Maxfield

JT would be a dream to dance with if he ever allowed it. So responsive to the slightest touch, so willing to be led. So acquiescent.

“JT,” I murmured into his lips. He had no trace of a beard since he"d probably just shaved before he picked me up.

He opened his eyes, dazed with passion, and focused on me. “Hm?” I suppressed a small smile of satisfaction. “Maybe we should go in?”

“Oh.” He lifted the keys he"d been holding and turned with a yes.

When he opened the door, I asked, “What would your sisters do next with their boys?” I admit that wasn"t really the question for which I wanted the answer. I wanted to know what he"d want me to do next. Should I stand back and wait?

Should I move in? Should I use every excuse to touch him and seduce him, or did he want to do the same to me?

“Well, that depends. If my parents were home—”

“Wait. Are your parents home now?” I asked, absurdly. I knew his mother was dead and his father was at the motel. It just seemed like he was somewhere else—

somewhere in the past—and he wanted a do-over.

He hadn"t turned on the light, but I saw him swallow hard before he spoke.

“No.”

“Then what would your sisters do?”

JT took my hand then and led me to his room. It was juvenile and tidy, featuring a lot of books and some swim trophies. Lots of ribbons with medals and certificates on the wall, which I took to mean he excelled at his sport. He sat on the side of his bed and just looked at me. His eyes held mischief, maybe a little fear, and some indefinable faith in me that I wanted to honor by getting everything exactly right.

I sat next to him, lifting a knee to the mattress top so I could face him better when I took hold of his tie. “This is very nice.”

“Thanks,” he said breathlessly as I slid the knot down and pulled it off.

I unbuttoned his suit coat and helped him slide it off, then placed it carefully onto the foot of the bed. While I pulled the hem of his shirt from his trousers, I nibbled at his jaw, his chin, and his neck, as far as I could reach, until I had that top button open and his chest was mine to explore—at least that part of it that was exposed by his undershirt. I felt down his sleeves and was delighted to find French cuffs with cuff links, which I pulled out and placed on the nightstand.

“Such a classy, classy man,” I whispered, liking the heft of the fabric as I peeled his shirt off him and put it with his jacket.

“Hey, how come I"m the only one getting undressed?”

“You want to undress me too?”

“You know I do,” he said, raking me with his gaze. “May I?” I stood at this, wanting to stand tall while he looked at me with hot eyes. “Of course.”

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He began with my belt, using fumbling fingers to unbuckle it and lower my zipper. By then my cock had leaked a slick circle of moisture over my briefs, and he leaned in to mouth it, as though he couldn"t help it. As though he was unable to stop himself. I cradled his head in my fingers, brushing his brows lightly with my thumbs.

“
Baby
.” I breathed a sigh, bowled over by the sweet way he nuzzled me. I leaned over to capture his mouth with mine, and together we slipped and slid our way to the pillows, until we were lying together on his double bed, stretched out and straining to get rid of what was left of our clothes. His breath came in puffs of air he tried to control. He gave little gasps and shudders as my fingers played along the hard planes of his chest, until I dug my fingers into his undershirt to remove it. He unbuttoned the tiny pearlescent buttons on my shirt with shaking fingers and pushed it off my shoulders. When his nails scraped over my nipples, I sucked air deep into my lungs and arched so he would do it again. He laid the flat of his tongue where his hands had been, and I pulled his head close until I felt the thrilling rasp of his teeth there.

“Yasha,” he whispered uncertainly.

“Shh,” I whispered. “I know what you need.”

“I don"t have”—he waved his hand around—“anything.”

“I do. Find my wallet.” What happened next was classic. Two men, cocks bobbing, taking time out to fumble through discarded clothing for a wallet until I found it and dropped a couple of condoms and two pillow packs of lube on the bed.

When we were finally skin to skin, he let out a deeply contented sigh.

I readied him quickly, watching his face for cues. “How are you doing?” He bit his lip on a cry and nodded tightly. “Fine.”

“I haven"t even done anything yet,” I teased. He looked away. I waited for it.

“
Ah
,” he cried out. “
Jeez
. Do that again.” I felt around for the rough bundle of nerves and stroked it again.

“Yasha!” JT was frankly begging now.

I pulled his legs over my forearms and nudged him. “Put a condom on me.” He tore the packet open and did it by feel more than anything, giving me a couple of solid pumps that made me groan. “Easy,” he warned.

“No worries.” I went carefully, bumping him, pressing in gently, and sliding past the ring of rigid muscles only when they let go enough to admit me. “Ah, fuck, you feel good.”

“C"mere.” He pulled my head down to kiss me, and I went willingly. He stroked and soothed me as he combed his fingers through my hair, moving down to my shoulders, kneading the muscles there deeply as they swirled over my skin. It felt heavenly. I clung to him, put my head on his shoulder, and simply let him embrace 164

Z. A. Maxfield

me. We kissed, and we fucked. We lit a slow fuse that burned all over my body until my skin was flushed and slick, and he had beard burn on his neck, and dazed eyes.

I gripped his ass in my hands then, grinding hard. My rhythm was off; it was jerky and frantic. JT clawed at my back and cursed in my ear. His cock was trapped between our bodies, and he dragged in a shuddering breath just seconds before I felt the first spurt of wet heat between us. His muscles tightened until I spasmed inside him, filling the condom, driving into his sweet heat as far as I could go.

He said my name over and over, whispering it like a prayer while I let myself fall limp in his arms. “Yasha.” He spoke with each rock of my hips against his, his lips open while he tasted the sweaty skin on my neck. “
Yasha
.” I don"t know how long we lay there entwined like that. Finally, as my skin cooled, drying in the whisper of a breeze from the open window, I rose to my elbow and pulled out gently, then tossed the condom into the trash next to the bed. He curled into me, and I cradled him in my arms. “Okay?”

“Yeah”—he gave a nervous little laugh—“maybe a little scared.”

“Hm?”

“It"s a new life. A new thing. Guys at the station, folks who know me, people I"ve known all my life are going to think I"m a liar or an idiot or something now that I"m out.”

“You told your dad?”

“Yeah.”

“What about the girls you were dating?”

“I talked to the ones I"ve been out with lately,” JT hedged. “I didn"t want to take out a fucking ad.”

“Are you sure this is what you want, JT?” I cared about the answer a lot, so I didn"t try to hide it.

“It"s not so much what I want as who I am, isn"t it?” he asked.

I remained silent.

“What?”

I thought about it. “Can it be both? I feel like I"ve launched a new ship.” He kissed me gently, opening me up for the briefest contact between our tongues. “I"m not sailing off to new adventures, Yasha. I feel like I"ve come into home port after a long trip at sea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” He put his head right under my chin then, where I could clearly imagine it landing every night for the rest of my life, locked in like the piece of a puzzle I didn"t realize I"d been looking for. “Sleepy,” he whispered.

“Gotta clean up,” I told him. “We"re going to be stuck together.”

“Yeah,” he answered, but he didn"t let me go. We were both going to sacrifice some body hair in the morning if I didn"t get up, but I was lulled to sleep by his deep

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breathing, by the contentment I felt with him in my arms, and I drifted off, swept away on the tide of happiness that was only just beginning to rise in my heart.

“I love you,” I told him as he tightened his arms around me and began to snore gently. “Love…love you.”

Loose Id Titles by Z. A. Maxfield

Blue Fire

Crossing Borders

Drawn Together

Family Unit

Fugitive Color

The ST. NACHO’S Series

St. Nacho’s

Physical Therapy

Jacob’s Ladder

Z. A. Maxfield

Z. A. Maxfield is a fifth generation native of Los Angeles, although she now lives in the O.C. She started writing in 2006 on a dare from her children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized, and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four manages to find time for a writing career, she"ll answer, “It"s amazing what you can do if you completely give up housework.”

Find Z. A. on the Web a
t http://zamaxfield.com/

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