Plan B (20 page)

Lance climbed on top of me, straddling my butt. I jerked when his slick hands touched my shoulders, and then moaned as he began to knead the tense muscles there. The room was silent, other than the sounds of our shared breaths, as Lance massaged and caressed every inch of my back. His palms pressed hard against my lower back and ran up each side of my spine.

It felt so good and I moaned my pleasure.

He chuckled at my response and skimmed his fingers down each bony protrusion of my spine. It tickled and I squirmed beneath him.

His hands moved to my waist, barely skimming across the area. “Are you ticklish?”

“Lance,” I warned through gritted teeth. I lifted my head from where it rested on my folded arm and glared back at him.

He removed his hands and held them up in a defensive manner. “Just checking.”

He then scooted back, sitting on my thighs, and dug his fingers into the globes of my ass, my dick twitched against my stomach in response. His thumbs rubbed and teased up and down along my crease until I thought I would go out of my mind, and then they were gone. Both his strong hands massaged down my right leg to my foot, then back up my left. I was hard and horny, yet his ministrations were melting me right into the soft mattress below.

“Roll over so I can do the front.”

I did as he asked. The rough inside seam of Lance’s jeans felt abrasive against my legs as I rolled beneath him. My head cradled in the downy softness of the pillow, I rested my arms above me. Without taking his gaze from my body, Lance leaned over and grabbed the oil from where he’d set it on the bedside table and poured more into his palm. He rubbed his hands together again, warming the oil, and started at my knees.

I couldn’t take my eyes from him. His expression was one of awe and wonderment as he explored my body, finding all the small areas that made me twitch and squirm. The inside of my thighs, my hips, below my armpits, but never where I wanted to feel his touch the most. “Please” was on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to beg him to wrap those wonderfully talented hands around my cock and relieve the ache. But he was so sexy, his gray eyes constantly moving over me, nibbling his bottom lip in concentration.

“So soft, yet so strong,” he said absently as he traced the ridges of my chest.

Normally I was the aggressor—not that Lance couldn’t be aggressive, he could, but I always had to push him to it. This new side of him thrilled me, as much as being naked and vulnerable while he was fully clothed did. He was making this completely about me and I found it hot as fuck. My cock agreed, straining, curving upward toward my stomach.

I fisted the pillow to keep from reaching out to touch him and clenched my jaw to keep from begging for more. I didn’t want to break the spell Lance seemed to be under, but I didn’t know how much more I could take.

I was pushed even closer to the verge of insanity when Lance leaned in further as he worked his way up my arms, his breath warm against my mouth. “I never appreciated how truly sexy you are.”

“I’m even sexier with a naked body rubbing all over me.”

“Oh really?” Lance chuckled then pushed his tongue into my mouth, and I could only nod, hoping like hell he believed me.

Oh and thank you, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and anyone who may have had a hand in answering my prayer when Lance left me breathless as the kiss ended and then leaned back and whipped off his shirt, throwing it to the side.

His muscles bulged and sweat glistened on his golden skin. He was too much of a temptation and I propped myself up on my elbows and licked the salty dampness.

Lance gasped then shoved me back. “Ah, ah, ah.” He twitched a finger at me—I was tempted to bite it. “I’m not done giving you your gift yet.”

I dropped back onto the pillow and grunted.

“You seem a little tense. Aren’t you enjoying your relaxing massage?”

I looked down my body to my oozing, neglected cock. The head swollen, dark and ruddy it was so engorged. I was so hard it hurt. When I looked back up at him, his eyes were twinkling—fucking twinkling—and his smile was sly. He was enjoying this way too much. Okay, I admit, so was I, but I was beginning to think I was at the point where shit exploding was becoming a very real danger.

I snaked a hand out and grabbed his left nipple, pinching it. Hard.

“Ow!” He swatted my hand away. “Okay, I get it. Moving along now.”

I watched, transfixed, as Lance leaned in and ran the tip of his tongue down my chest, scooting toward the end of the bed as he left a wet trail down to my navel. I sucked in a harsh breath when he dipped inside the small indent. I shuddered when he nuzzled my cock, the stubble on his jaw harsh against the delicate skin.

“That feels so good,” I murmured.

Lance fisted my cock, squeezing it until the veins stood out, and pressed it harder against his cheek, scraping, scratching. It was almost too much, but it felt so fucking good, the little flare of pain adding to the pleasure. Even better was that it was Lance doing it. He’d jerked me off, rubbed his cock against mine, but had never had it this close to his mouth.

Without warning, Lance sucked me into his mouth, making wet slurping noises as he bobbed his head up and down. He didn’t take much, only a couple of inches before pulling back again, but he’d made a tight seal with his lips and each pass stuttered over the ridge of my cock head.

Oh fuck!
I thought.
I’m going to come!
I’d been dreaming of Lance’s mouth on my dick, wanted it, and I was going to blow before I could fully enjoy it.

“Wait! Shit! Wait!”

Lance lifted his head, eyes wild and a little glazed. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Uh, no.” A snort of laughter escaped me through panting breaths and I shook my head. “Too right.”

Lance’s smile was smug. “I had a good teacher.” Then he was sucking me back into his mouth.

My eyes nearly rolled back in my head, lids heavy and threatening to close, but I forced them to stay open. I didn’t want to miss a second of this. Lance nursed at my dick, teeth threatening and sending shivers up my spine. It wasn’t the best blowjob I’d ever had—he couldn’t take me in very far without gagging—but what he lacked in experience, he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Watching him, head bobbing, cheeks hollowing as he sucked hard, drool running down from the corners of his mouth, was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Straight boy Lance Lenard was sucking my dick and when he looked up at me through long curling lashes, there was so much lust in his eyes I knew he was loving it too. That look alone had me gripping the sheet in my fists, tensing and fighting to hold back my orgasm.

Then cool air hit my wet dick when Lance surged up, sitting back on his heels, pumping his cock hard. When the hell had he lost his pants? I only contemplated it for a moment, though, because really, I didn’t fucking care when he had. His big hand pumped his thick shaft, the veins standing out, head lolled back, and he snapped his hips and shouted.

I felt the hot liquid land on my cock, stomach, and even in the hollow of my throat, but I couldn’t look away from his gorgeous face. Mouth open wide, his shout turning to a silent scream. I had thought seeing Lance gobbling down my cock was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, but I was wrong. Watching him, skin flushed, damp with sweat, wild as he jerked and danced with abandoned pleasure above me, was the most magnificent thing I’d ever seen.

“Christ, sorry about that.” His smile was timid, cheeks darkening further.

He had nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all. And then.
Oh. My. God
. He scooped up his spunk from my chest and brought his hand to his mouth, licking and sucking the cream from his fingers. I knew I had to be dreaming. I knew I was going to wake up in the morning with a hell of a hangover and sticky sheets because no way was this real.

When Lance started sucking my shaft again, I grabbed his head in both my hands, started fucking his face hard, and he took it. Nostrils flaring, face turning red, but he hummed as if he wanted more. It was my dream, so of course he wanted more—and I gave it to him.

“That’s it. Take it all.”

I thrust hard as I pulled his head down, and this time my eyes did roll back in my skull when I felt the flared head push into his throat, the muscles contracting around it, and my thin grasp on control was shredded and stripped away. I came so hard I saw stars dance behind my closed lids.

The sound of coughing and sputtering brought me back down from the high. I opened my eyes to find Lance wiping at his mouth, eyes watering as he fought to catch his breath.

Nearly choking Lance to death wasn’t part of the fantasy. “Jesus!” I scrambled to sit up, banging my head against the headboard. That felt way too fucking real to be a dream. “I’m so sorry, Lance. I got a little—”

Lance licked his wet lips and waggled his brow at me. “Guess we’re even now, huh? I’m fine. You just caught me off guard is all.”

I bet not as much as I was when he sat atop my thighs and kissed me, feeding me my own flavor. Lance was thorough in his exploration of my mouth, humming and sounding so damn content and happy, like he was thanking me. Like he wasn’t the one who had just given me the best birthday gift I’d ever received.

Regret swam through the desire, turning into a raw pain that twisted my heart as I sat there kissing him. The effect of his body against mine, the warm, wet tongue so gentle and yet dominant, wasn’t the only thing that stole my breath. I had fallen hard for him, I knew that in the center of my very being, and yet tomorrow it would be over. Lance would go back to his jock boy ways, sweet little blonde girl on his arm as he moved a step closer to his dream.

Me?

I stared into those amazing gray eyes that had haunted me since the first moment I’d seen them and knew. Tomorrow I’d be doing my best to glue back the pieces of my broken heart.

T
HE
sun pouring in through the partially open curtains burned at my red and raw eyes. I squinted at the clock on the bedside table and groaned. It was just after eleven, only four hours since Lance and I had finally given up on the record for most orgasms in one night and collapsed together in a tangle of arms and limbs.

I buried my face into his side and pulled the covers up over my head. I needed more sleep. Maybe with another hour or two the slight throb in my brain would be gone. I knew it would do nothing for the soreness in my muscles or the ache in my nut sac though—I’d be feeling those effects for days.

Somewhere outside the window, a car horn blared and a door slammed in the hallway. Life was going on around me, but I was buried in my cocoon, surrounded by the smell of sex, sweat, and Lance, and my mind wandered back to the night before—or rather, earlier in the morning.

When I had left my dorm the day before, I had one goal in mind, to fuck or be fucked. Yes, I know, shallow, maybe even a little slutty, but I was twenty-one, single, and horny. I make no excuses for my behavior. I had no idea what I’d actually get was much better than my simple carnal wish.

I got sexy in the form of a full-body massage culminating in a sloppy blowjob and a sixty-nine. Better yet, I experienced raw, visceral, and dirty fun. And, although I would have sworn four short hours ago that I’d never be able to get it up again, the images of him on his knees in the shower, licking droplets of water off my skin, had my cock swelling until it poked against Lance’s lightly furred thigh.

It wasn’t just the hot coupling that made it the best celebration ever—it was Lance himself that had been the best part, the real surprise gift. The room he’d set up with balloons, flowers, and champagne gave me a glimpse of his cheesy romantic side. The way he touched me, stroking my face as he kissed me or the way he cradled me in his arms while we came down from an orgasm, showed me his tender side. His laughter as I painted his chest with champagne and the look in his eyes when I licked it off were images and memories that would forever be seared into my brain. Ones that would torment and haunt, scabs to be picked at so they never healed.

With that sorrowful thought, I knew I would never get back to sleep—the pain in my head, and the deeper one in my chest, would not allow it. I placed a kiss to Lance’s chest and, careful not to wake him, slipped quietly from the bed. I gathered my discarded clothes and dressed. My movements felt sluggish from a weariness that had nothing to do with exhaustion. After I slipped into my boots, I stood at the side of the bed and watched Lance sleep.

Another image that would forever be with me. He looked so at ease, his broad chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. His face slack in slumber, even more handsome than usual. I kissed the tip of my index finger and softly brushed it over his parted lips. I jerked my hand back when he stirred and held my breath. His brows creased slightly, but he never opened his eyes. Had he known I was there placing one last kiss to his lips? Did he know I was leaving?

Tears blurred my vision, threatening to spill. I would not cry. He had to have known what was coming, known last night it was our last time. Perhaps I was doing it the cowardly way—fine, I was a coward—but I couldn’t say it. I’d been on such an emotional rollercoaster since seeing Lance with the little blonde thing. It really was at that moment when I’d realized I had to end it, if for no other reason than my own sanity. I was the one who took it past casual sex and experimentation, and I also knew that walking away without saying good-bye was a really shitty thing to do to Lance. As I stood there watching him sleep, I knew what I was about to do was wrong. He didn’t deserve it, yet at the time, I was already trying to distance myself and push him back into that box labeled “casual sex partner.” The first step toward that was to avoid the awkward morning after, as I had done so many times in the past.