Sultry Sunset (8 page)

“More than anything,” he vowed before he dragged me off the wall and started kissing me, hungrily, all over again.

We went down the hall, unbuckling belts, hopping on alternating feet to pull off shoes—his steel-toed work boots that he wore when he was moving pallets in the warehouse nearly made a hole in my floor—bumping into walls, knocking things over, and repeatedly making pictures rattle until we stumbled through the doorway of my room and crashed into my bed.

When he lifted free to laugh, I followed, not wanting my mouth parted from his, but he bent to help pull my left wingtip off so my jeans and briefs could follow.

“Here, lemme help you,” he said under his breath, moving his hands down my thighs to my knees, then gently over my calves to my ankles and feet.

He was massaging, his hands creating circles of welcoming heat, and I was quivering as I never did, wanting to drink in each touch, absorb it into my body.

“I’ve seen other men and thought they were handsome before,” he said, kicking his jeans away before taking off his briefs and adding them to the pile of discarded clothes. “But I’ve never wanted to hold another man’s dick in my hand.”

“I was at the right place at the right time,” I informed him, reaching out and taking his hard, heavy uncut cock in hand and stroking him from balls to head.

His gasp of pleasure made me bold, and I pulled harder before I went to my knees.

“No,” he practically yelled, grabbing my arms and powering me up beside him before he shoved me down on the bed. “That’s not what I want for the first—you don’t even understand how much I…. Hutch.”

I turned and looked at him over my shoulder.

“God, look at you.”

It was him, though, not me. His body was a work of art, powerfully muscled under the deep, dark tanned skin. I wanted to touch all of him. “Holy crap, Mike, you’re—”

“Michael,” he corrected, and when his gaze slowly and with difficulty lifted from his perusal of my form and locked with mine, I understood how I had wanted to be looked at in bed from the very first time. That… how he was doing it… like he wanted to both devour and cherish me at the exact same time—was it. That was how your lover was supposed to stare, where you could feel the heat and desire and dangerous, razor-edged longing rippling just there below the surface. “No more Mike.”

He was Michael to me now, as he’d been to his wife, as he was to his family, and I was included, the circle extended to me because I was part of them, the sacred trust he shared with only a few.

I rolled over on my back, sprawled out and ready for him to do with as he pleased, and when he climbed onto the bed, I reached for him.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he told me as he crawled over me, lying down between my legs, his hard, leaking shaft sliding along mine as he pinned me under him.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I dream about all kinds of things with you,” he rushed out, wrapping his arms under me and burying his face in the side of my neck.

His jolting shiver made me smile.

“You needed me.”

“Like fuckin’ water—yeah.”

Michael’s answer made me brave. “You were wasting your time on anyone who wasn’t me,” I said as I pushed his thick black hair out of his face, savoring the feel of the cool texture against my suddenly hot skin, trailing my fingers up and down his spine, wanting to hold him tight, never let go, willing myself to not show him how frantic my desire was.

“I know.”

He knew!

“I won’t do it anymore.”

“Your family—what will they think?”

“They’ll think ‘If he loves him, then so will we.’”

Michael loved me.

It wasn’t right place–right time, it was simply me.

Me.

He loved me because I’d been the one to drag him back into the light.

I was the one who’d insinuated myself into his life, under the tripwire where everyone else got trapped, and danced around inside of his dreams.

I was the one who made him care about food again and take pride in its preparation, which touched on his childhood and his family and was the reason he was back on the phone with his mother asking for recipes.

All roads led to me.

I was it, the man he loved.

“Did you hear me?”

The tears were ridiculous; I never cried over anything, ever, but there they were, because I didn’t have to tiptoe around what I wanted, what I could say.

“I want your mother to lose her mind over me because mine is gonna adore you,” I sighed, more happy than I could ever remember being.

His smile was so warm as he lifted for my kiss. “We’ll go see them, my family, as soon as you sort out your latest community center debacle.”

“Oh, you heard about that,” I growled, because of course he had. The stupid town was only so big, and he had picked me up in jail, after all.

He laughed and scrambled free, flipping me over on my stomach and hauling me to my hands and knees.

“Well, now, Michael, what is it you want?”

He kissed down my spine and I shuddered beneath him, letting my head drop as he kissed over my right cheek and his hands spread me open.

“You should let me shower or—”

“No, I like the way you smell… and taste.”

The strokes over my puckered hole went from tentative to teasing to deliberate so very fast. “You’ve been thinking about me for a while,” I said, nearly vibrating with happiness. The idea that I had occupied his thoughts made it hard for me to even form words.

“Yes” was all he said before his thumb slipped inside, eased by the saliva dripping between my cheeks.

“Michael!” I yelled, pushing back against him. “Get the lube.”

“Where?”

I pointed at the nightstand and he stretched for it, pulled the drawer out, dumped it but got the lube. We could collect the television remotes, mechanical pencils I did the Sunday crossword with, and lip balm later. The only thing I cared about at the moment was having Michael Rojas inside me.

“Did you fuck anyone without a condom?” I was afraid of the answer, and also, there was suddenly a niggling doubt in the back of my head. I didn’t know what about, I was just anxious.

“No, sir,” he answered, his voice low and guttural as he snapped open the cap.

“If you sleep with anyone other than—”

“Oh no,” he cautioned. “I’m made loyal. It’s gonna be just us.”

“You’re going to break so many—” I gasped as he slid two lube-slicked fingers into my ass. “—hearts when they find out.”

“Nope,” Michael said, withdrawing fast, rolling over on his back, lying down beside me. “No hearts involved ’cept yours and mine.”

He was breathtaking, stretched out on my bed, in my room, in my house, in my life… he was mine, and my brain had not caught up with where my heart already was.

“I know you,” he mentioned.

“What?”

“You were thinking, he may love me, but when it comes down to it, I’m not a woman and the only way he’ll be able to be inside me is from behind.”

“No, I—”

“Yes,” he stopped me, as he slicked his enormous, engorged cock with lube. “But I promise you: I know you’re a man—a very strong, handsome, beautiful man who I want more than anything to watch fuck himself on my dick.”

He knew me so well, all those nights together, the endless conversations, the constant banter, and the complete, unconditional support. We’d been in the middle of our relationship before either of us even knew we’d begun.

“Come here.”

I leaned into him, and he kissed every part of me he could reach. Face, neck, shoulders, stomach, until I couldn’t think, and he didn’t seem to want to stop.

“Please touch me,” he moaned. “I wanna come all over you and your bed.”

“You’re killing me,” I moaned hoarsely.

“Me?” Michael rasped. “God, Hutch, do you have any idea what you look like right now? Could you please just put your hands all over me?”

I could do better.

Straddling his thighs, I lifted over him only to sink slowly down, inch by inch, the lube and the rimming allowing for the steady breach as I stretched around his considerable girth, until I was finally and completely impaled on his shaft.

“Oh fuck!” he snarled. It was primal and dark, and his hands on my thighs would leave bruises. I was not going anywhere. Since no one else had ever laid claim, I was content in a way I’d never been before.

His hips rolled under me as he pushed up to meet my downward thrusts, a smooth retreat followed by the thrum of us coming together, the rhythm increasing quickly, driving, pounding, as I grabbed hold of my cock and tugged to the same tempo.

“Jesus, Hutch, you’re so fuckin’ tight, you feel so—Hutch!”

His words were pushed aside by his roar as he suddenly came, exploding with a cry, shivering hard with his release, pulsing deep within my body.

I spattered his abdomen seconds later, no way to avoid it from where I was, head back, eyes closed, riding him to my completion, feeling my muscles clamp down around him, not ready to let him go.

“Goddammit.”

My head snapped forward, and I checked to see why the first word out of his mouth after the best sex of my life was a curse.

“We just blew the dog’s mind.”

I turned to look for my dog, and there was Benny, sitting in the doorway, head tipped, looking utterly confused. “You should’ve locked the doggie door so he couldn’t get back in.”

“Yeah, now he’s messed up for life, poor bastard.”

I snorted out a laugh.

“It’s like he’s never seen you in bed with someone before.”

Ridiculous man, ridiculous ruse.

Leaning over, hands on either side of his head, still with him buried to his balls in my ass, I kissed him deep, with lots of tongue.

“No one’s ever been in this bed but you, Michael Rojas.”

“Well, now,” he sighed, clearly very pleased, very smug. “That’s very good to hear.”

“Is it?”

“Oh yes,” he murmured, reaching up for my face. “And I plan to keep it that way.”

That was excellent news.

WE TRIED
to talk, but we were too warm, too sated, and so fell asleep in the sweaty, sticky mess we made of the bed. When I woke up a couple of hours later with the man wrapped around me, I sighed happily, leaned my cheek in his hair, and passed out again.

The second time we woke up, Michael wanted to know if he’d hurt me.

“No, baby, you didn’t hurt me at all.”

“And you’re not hurt from your fall, right? You’re okay?”

“I’m better than that.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I murmured, reaching for him.

He sank into my arms like he’d been snuggling up to me for years.

The third time, Michael woke up with me, and before either one of us could get up, we started laughing about Benny, that we’d probably have to get him some therapy and how much was that going to cost and how in the world would we know if it was even working or not. When we heard people moving around down the hall, we both fell out of bed and scrambled around for clothes.

“You guys better get out here!” Ivy called from the kitchen, and I cursed the fact that while the other bedrooms were on the second floor, the master was on the first. “You promised to make dinner tonight, and I want to hear all about Hutch getting incarcerated!”

We had our clothes pulled on when a deeper voice came right after hers. “And the grownup wants to know if you two are finally calling yourself the couple that everyone can see that you are.”

We both leaned out the door to see Essien standing at the opposite end of the hall, beaming at us.

“She’s back outside,” he informed us, “so you can both take a fast shower before you come out. Having dinner with you guys while you smell like jizz—not that appealing,”

“How do you know we smell like—”

“Did you see your dog? Something in here traumatized him—only so many things it could be.”

“You could just, you know, take your kid out for pizza,” Michael groused at him even as he started rubbing the back of my neck.

“Nope. Me and Ivy both want to hear the story, and I can tell you about Blake Timmons taking back that absurd trumped-up fraud charge and how much fun it was to watch Mia Renaldi work him over.”

“How did you see that?”

“Jail, city hall, fire department… seriously, what are they, fifty feet away from each other?”

I couldn’t stifle my soft laughter. “We’ll be right out.”

“Hey, what’s the story on the hot doctor?”

I ignored him, bolting for the shower, wanting to be the first one under the hot water. But Michael beat me to it when he went in without taking his clothes off. I had to strip them off before lathering up my mesh sponge.

“What the hell were you thinking?” I laughed as I peeled him out of his jeans. “Now you’re all wet.”

“I was thinking that you having to get me naked did not sound like it had a downside.”

Shaking my head, I soaped his gorgeous cock, which, even flaccid, was impressive. “You know we really have to figure out a way to get them out of here.”

“Hey, Hutch.”

I lifted my gaze.

“I love you. I’m going to make you very happy.”

And I knew that. He already did.

I grabbed him, hugging him tight, and he did the same, the two of us breathing together under the warm spray.

“I love you back,” I whispered. “Never doubt it.”

“No,” Michael promised. “I never would.”

BLUE DAYS