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I woke up at midday with morning wood and an unshakeable feeling of loss. My late night lover was gone. All that lingered of Jack was the scent of combined spunk that shouldn’t have been sexy and the dent from his head in the pillow beside me.
I sat down with a cup of coffee I coddled between my hands. His disappearance got under my skin in a way I didn’t want to inspect. It was pretty damn clear he didn’t have any place to go. Had I sucked at sucking cock? He sure hadn’t acted like it. But then he was one motherfucking talented showman.
I groaned and bunched my forearms on the table. It didn’t matter why. The fact was the rejection stung. And when the hell had I gone and grown a pair of tits and a matched set of ovaries to go with?
Getting up, I rinsed out my mug. I leaned back against the sink and stared at the table where we’d sat eating breakfast together just a few short hours ago. I remembered the soft feel of his hair in my hands, the stunning blue color of his eyes, the intense hungry kisses that were never enough and just the beginning of more.
I was a stalker. He was a one-night-stander. Maybe that made us even.
In lieu of hunting Jack down and dragging him back, I spent another fan-fuckin’-tastic Christmas Day thinking about the night before and what had almost been and what wouldn’t be. Fucking sad case. Then I watched ESPN while baking, tackling two stereotypes at once. Big butch dude and sports. Possibly gay guy and baking. Muffins and stud muffins.
Who are you kidding? There is no ‘possibly’ about it. You spent a couple hours rolling around naked, giving and receiving head with the most gorgeous man you’ve ever met. Thinking about him makes you spring a boner and you had an out-of-body orgasm . . . with a man.
After that complete wake-up call, I turned off the internal commentator as well as the loudmouthed one on TV. I also shut down the I’m-a-homo-at-last hallelujahs because I had to call my family. I spoke to Ma, Pa, my two brothers and one sister all settled within four miles of each other back in the small Iowa town where I’d grown up. They yammered on about birthdays and college sports and new babies and when was I coming back to meet a nice girl, get hitched, start a family?
After that I escaped into a six-pack of beers.
My guitar hero, porno fantasy didn’t have a set the next night. That didn’t stop me from looking for a shock of black hair and a blaze of true blue eyes inside Mosh. No dice though.
I handed a Tupperware container of muffins to Jane, figuring she could put them in baskets for breakfast the next morning at Nosh if they were up to snuff. She peered at the contents. She watched me scanning the crowd like my eyes were laser beams that could latch onto Jack and pull him in.
“Ooh, Beef, you are hankerin’.” Shrewd Jane leaned over the bar.
“C’mon, come to my office. You can tell me all about it.”
I met her at the swinging doors to the admin hall and backstage area of the club. She hustled me into her office and shut the door. Pouring a couple drinks from her personal stash, she sat behind the desk and propped her feet up.
“Listen, Beef, from the dyke to the not-so-straight-stud, your secret’s out.”
And apparently the floor had just dropped out from under my feet too because I had a bad case of the head spins. “Wait. You’re a—”
“Lady lover, vagina miner, a chick licker.” Her grin grew impossibly huge the more my mouth gaped open.
I snapped it shut. I rubbed my forehead and tried to think of something useful to say. Are congrats in order? “Oookay. But I’m not—”
“Get over yourself already. And if you wanna keep your big secret, you probably oughtta stop eye-fucking our favorite Cajun chanteur.”
My cheeks felt like they burst into flames. “I don’t—”
“Lust after Jack? Yeah, you do. Why do you think I keep tryin’ to throw you at him? You’re desperate for some nasty dick casino siteleri action.” She snorted and knocked back her liquor. “Listen, babe, I’m all about the rainbow of love so any hang-ups you have about your homosexy-ness, get over it right now.” She ran a hand through her spiky hair. “Took you long enough to figure it out though.”
My jaw dropped to the floor as I dropped my ass to a chair and downed the whiskey neat.
“Look, if things don’t work out with you and Jack Frost pretty boy, I don’t imagine you’ll have a hard time pickin’ up another hot piece of ass.”
Could not believe I was having this convo with my boss. “I’m not gay.” Deny, deny, deny.
“Yes, you are.”
My brow scrunched. “Maybe just for him?”
“How many damn times have I caught you with pussy dripping off you like gold chains from a rap singer? And you always look like a lamb bein’ lead to the slaughter. One look at Jack and no one can get your attention. No one. I don’t care if you think you’re a hitchhiker on the gay highway, but at least admit you have the hots for the man.”
“I took him home last night.”
She poured more whiskey. “Cheers!”
“He got me off then took off while I was sleeping.”
“Any more words of wisdom? Maybe another street boy you wanna set me up with?” Stomping to my feet, I had my eyes on the door.
“Sit your ass down.” A command from Jane was not to be messed with even if I could take down the five-foot-four hard-ass woman.
I plunked into my seat.
“Why do you think we call you Beef?”
“Because I’m big and dumb as a side of?”
“Jesus cunt. Do you even own a mirror? You’re gorgeous, buff, sexy as hell.”
I sent my eyes skyward. As far as I knew, Jesus didn’t have a cunt and the rest of the shit she spewed was bogus too.
“And I’m willing to bet M’sieur Cotille thinks so too.”
“Bullshit.” I sat back, folding my arms over my chest.
“So I guess the way his eyes are glued to you all night long is because he thinks you’re disgusting. Not because he wants to jump your bones.”
“Uh huh. And after he popped my gay cherry by giving me my first bj from a guy, he did a runner. Total romance there.” Talk about a shock to my self-confidence.
Jane wasn’t digging my pity party. “I bet he gets hard for you all night long. He’ll be back, tomorrow night in fact.” She crossed in front of the desk when I rose from the chair. She sent me off with a swat to my ass. “Now get back to work and stop being such a moody prick.”
“I thought moody and pricky were part of my job description.” I ducked out the door before she could throw something at my head.
The night that never ended finally finished with a knock at a godawful hour of the morning. Cracking the door, it turned out I didn’t have to wait until the next night to see Jack. Since I had a Jack Cotille blind spot to go with the soft spot I couldn’t hide around him—not to mention an unrelenting hard-on for the man—I let him inside.
He had a plastic bag in his hand . . . guitars crisscrossed over his shoulders. A cleft in his chin and twin goddamn deep dimples on his cheeks just like the ones I’d felt above his ass the other night. “So, I wanted to say sorry.”
“Are you just looking for a place to flop?”
“I dunno, cher.” The deep voice and sexy accent were pitch perfect to make my prick hard. “You don’ make me do things for money. You’re big and warm and fun to kiss. I like sleepin’ with you, mais if you don’ like it, I can go.”
Fuck that. The man looked up at me with his eyes a killer combination of sinful innocence. I skimmed my thumb across his cheek beneath the dark fan of his eyelashes, sweeping the cold off his flesh and warming him with mine.
Dark day-old stubble was soft beneath my palm when I cupped his jaw. His eyes slid closed and if I hadn’t been focused on every nuance of this man-boy, I would’ve missed his canlı casino slight parting of lips and the quiver in his neck.
Pulling my hand away, I asked, “You gonna run away again?” I scratched my belly and his gaze glommed onto the blond pelt beneath my fingers.
His breath hitched as his eyes lifted to my face. He shook a CVS bag at me. “I brought presents.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Jack stood uncertainly in the doorway. “Just thought I owed you somethin’.”
“How old are you, Jack?” Because he seemed wise and knowing, and totally fucking guileless at the same time.
“Twenty-four if I’m a day. You?”
“Bien. I like big blond bears.”
I barked a laugh and backed up. Jack gathered his backpack from the landing.
Closing the door behind him, I pushed him onto the couch. “Are you a prostitute?” The question popped from the top of my mind and out of my mouth before I could reel it back in. This was not the way to entice him into staying, but I needed one thing from him, one truth. He gave himself while holding back everything. Transparent but with layers I’d never discover.
He merely shrugged his shoulders. That soft flop of black hair fell into his eyes. “I’m a survivor. Do what I gotta do.”
I did not like the idea of him out alone all night long. Or picking up whatever cheap fucking thrill he could to trick his way into a bed for the night. My heart played air hockey in my chest. “What does that mean?”
“Means you gotta lighten up. You need to take a load off.” He reached for my jeans. “I can help with that.”
Oh God, I wanted to say yes, I wanted to shout it out loud before he disappeared again. But more importantly I didn’t want to wake up in the morning with him missing from my bed.
I stilled his fingers that fiddled with the button fly of my jeans. “Are you really gay?”
“Oh yeah. Definitely homo . . . and very seriously gay for you. All the time. You’re so fuckin’ sexy. Since when did you decide dick does it for you?”
“That should work in my favor then.” Everything worked in his favor, especially when he stood up and stripped off in the middle of my living room. He dived into the bag of goodies and pulled out half-price boxes of tree ornaments.
I took his seat and squirmed on the couch. “Christmas is over.”
“Not for me it isn’t. Get that hard meat out for me, Beef.”
Working out of my jeans was a feat of gymnastics because my cock tangled in the waistband. Freed from clothes, I crossed my arms behind my head to enjoy the show. He tinseled the tree and hung ornaments on it—Jack, my very own naughty angel who decorated while naked, his cock stretched straight up, rigid and ready.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“You don’ like it? Most guys want more from me.” Again with the whore attitude.
“I’m not most guys, I just want you.”
He dangled a piece of mistletoe from his fingertips as he swaggered to me. Bare skin, rampant cock, unbelievably erotic.
“You cheesy son of a bitch.” I dove for his lips, kissing them hard. Guiding his hips down to me until he lay in the lee of my thighs, I growled and gasped against his mouth. His hot body on top of mine, I clutched his smooth ass.
Slithering down my torso, he nibbled up and down my shaft. “You like the mistletoe now?” His parted lips sucked hard on the side of my cock.
I nodded mutely, eyes wide and unblinking. He made me hold the sprig of mistletoe above my cock as he gave slick Christmas kisses all over it.
Before I could come, he slid me to the floor. He turned off the lights, leaving us bathed in the multicolor glow from the Christmas tree. “That’s better,” he murmured against my ear, turning me over to my front.
He hauled me up, close enough to know I was gonna get fucked . . . hard. His knuckles and fingers dug deep into my glutes. His naked sweaty skin covering my back, kaçak casino Jack lifted me until I was in a hands and knees position.
Then he pulled off of me, palming my ass cheeks open. “Jesus. You’re a fuckin’ brute.” Rough hands kneaded me. “Your ass, they oughtta name a mountain range after it.” One finger perched at the rim. “Gonna be so fuckin’ tight, cher.”
Oh my fucking FUCK.
That was when his tongue then his fingers and possibly his tonsils too spread me, tasted me. Tunneling and twisting and turning with lube and spit and . . . goddamn. I shivered from my hips all the way up my body when he rolled on a condom. The lube went on next. He used loud, wet audible strokes, massaging the slick length between his hand and my cleft, breathing as hard and fast as me. His cockhead knocked against my hole. He groaned loud with his dick in hand. Working me open again, he pushed more lube into my chute with three fingers.
“Fuuuck,” I grunted.
“You sure you want me in there?”
I reached back to grab his neck and pull him to me. My kiss was a deep plunge of tongue into his mouth, showing him exactly what I wanted him to do to me.
When he dragged the full, moist head of his cock against me, I rasped, “Do it, fuck me.”
My shoulders shook, my biceps bunched hard, bracing me up off the floor. Jack tunneled in, one slow inch at a time. The burn of it stung my eyes and pinched my ass. The foreign feeling of something—Jack—inside of me made me cry out. When the fiery pain eased, he was only half inside my trench and I was ready for all of him.
He held my hips in two firm hands when I tried to rock back. “Slow, cher, slow. Take my cock like this.”
The heat, the wet, the brand of being fucked as Jack soldered into me made me widen my thighs to accept every long inch of him.
He let loose the second I groaned. Hips thrusting, he yanked my short hair and breathed into my ear . . . that harsh dirty voice making me lose it. His low growls and long licks as he filled my ass had me slamming back against him as fast as I could.
Jack shouted and pulled out. I looked back over my shoulder. He poured more lube into his hand and slid wet fingers inside me. Another trail of slick went up his sheathed cock.
The grin he sent me was pure wicked intentions. Then he thrust inside of me in one straight shot. That time I yelled a hoarse cry that bounced off the walls and back at us. Pleasure pounded through me. His cock squelched. Our loud wet ass-fuck made me see stars behind my eyelids. They united in a supernova of fireworks as I shouted and shook and came so terrifyingly, so fucking awesomely hard, jism sprayed all over the floor and my chest and my neck in a scorching fountain.
Jack railed into me a few more times. Harsher and harsher breaths while I clenched around him, riding the wild thrusts. Then his hips snapped so hard he forced me to the floor. His breath stopped. His body bowed over mine. I felt the throbbing pump of his come filling the condom inside me and finally, finally his long loud roar.
Minutes later, maybe hours—who knew?—I heard the rubber snap off and his feet padding to the bathroom. A light came on somewhere in the distance, but fuck me, my vision was still blurred from the fuck of the century. A warm washcloth swabbed between my legs and his lips played gently with my mouth. The washcloth was tossed somewhere across the room. A pillow was shoved under my head and then blankets and Jack’s bare skin snuggled over and against me.
“Not a virgin anymore, beb.”
“Ungh,” was all I could manage.
“I hurt you?”
“Nuh uh,” I slurred.
He caressed my ass and back and shoulders in soothing motions, and I felt his smile against my neck, the tiny kisses and soft murmurs.
I fell asleep, so satisfied.
I woke to the low strains of Jack singing by the light of my one red candle. His back to the couch beside me, deep blue gaze locked on me. Voice sultry and deep, he hummed the refrain of a song I’d never heard. I reached for him, sitting up, kissing the words from his lips. And I took him inside me again.
Stay tuned for chapter three…
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