Chapter 5
At five minutes to noon, I was standing out in front of his door. I'd collected an array of food from the deli, and not knowing what he liked and what he didn't, I'd just grabbed a bit of everything.
I'd also done nothing but think about this guy all night, all morning.
The thought of seeing him again made my dick
twitch, even though I'd already jerked off twice that morning.
I knocked again, and there was no answer.
Shit.
I checked my phone. There were no messages from him. I briefly considered calling him, but thought that might make me look desperate. Maybe a text would suffice? Just when I was reaching for my phone, he came running around the corner.
"Oh, hey!" he said with a surprised smile.
Fuck me.
Still wearing his gym gear, he was still sweaty and looking a little flushed. God, my cock throbbed.
I gaped at him before I could think to speak. "Hey."
"Chris wanted me to do an extra class," he explained. "Sorry I'm late."
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I looked him over, blatantly appreciating his body.
"I don't mind."
He grinned at me as he opened the door to his
apartment. "I normally shower at work, but I didn't want you to think I'd stood you up," he said, holding the door open for me to walk inside. "I'll just grab a quick shower now, if you want to set up lunch." He looked to the deli bags in my hands. "Help yourself to anything you need in the kitchen."
He left me standing alone, and a little out of place, in his living room. I walked into the kitchen, and then he was suddenly behind me. I turned to face him and he quickly pecked my lips with his. "I forgot to say hello," he said with a smile. "I won't be long."
He left me alone for the second time, but this time I smiled. I found some plates and heard the water start in the bathroom. I tried really, really hard not to think of him being wet and naked just a few yards from me. How the water would run down his body, how his muscles, his skin would look wet…
Shaking my head to clear it, I concentrated on what I was doing instead. And by the time I had lunch all spread out on the table with plates and cutlery, I thought I had my body's reaction to him under control.
That was until he walked out.
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Fuck.
A freshly showered Kira was just as hot as a
sweaty, flushed Kira. He was wearing a simple, plain white polo and khakis. Nothing extraordinary, but very remarkable indeed.
"Jeez," he said, looking at the table. "How many people did you buy lunch for?"
But I was stuck staring at him. Fuck me, he was beautiful.
He looked at me expectantly. "Um," I started, trying to remember his question. "I wasn't sure what you liked, so I bought a little of everything."
He grinned at me. "You okay? You look a little flustered."
I blushed, giving myself away, and chuckled at my own embarrassment.
Kira picked up an olive and popped it into his mouth. He smiled as he chewed. "Mmm, these are good.
I'm starving."
He sat himself at the dining table and started talking about the deli food, his local grocer, and favorite recipes.
And just like that, he put me at ease. But his eyes danced as he talked and a smile played at his lips, as though he knew how I struggled to be coherent around him. I think I amused him.
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I tried not to notice how his smile lit his whole face, or the way his shirt teased his collarbones, or how the white of his shirt contrasted beautifully with the color of his skin.
I tried really hard not to notice how well defined his arms were, how strong his hands were.
Despite my slow start at conversation, we talked well into the afternoon about anything and everything. It was so easy, and I had no doubt this could go somewhere. I could see myself spending a lot of time with him.
He told me about his mom and dad, how there was never a dull moment with them, and I told him about my mother, something only a handful of other people knew.
How she died when I was seventeen, how that left me in state care for the three weeks until I turned eighteen, how the cops who came to tell me Mom had died in an accident were the ones to check on me every day, and how it was the support of the police who helped me, that made me enroll to be a cop the day of my eighteenth birthday.
I told him how I inherited the house we'd lived in, how I had no other living relatives. It was only ever me and my mom and I'd never known my dad. I explained the house was kinda big, but after my mom died, it never really felt like home. "I just live there," I told him with a shrug.
"But it's not really a home."
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He listened like I held the secrets to the world; he hung on every word. I felt a bit foolish for spilling my secrets to a man I hardly knew, but there was just something about him.
Eventually, he started to pack up what was left of lunch, and as he carried it into the kitchen, I followed him.
But after all the talking we'd done, when he turned to find me just inches away, all conversation stopped.
We were so close I wondered if he could hear my heart thumping in my chest.
When he smiled, I was sure he could.
He licked his lips, his perfect lips, and I stared at them. I could hardly see the mark where I hit him yesterday. "Your lip's better," I said.
He smiled and said, "No one punched me in the mouth today."
But he was staring at me with those so-brown eyes, and when he licked his lips again, I knew he was about to kiss me.
"If you kiss me," I said quietly, "I won't be going home any time soon."
"Good," he murmured, before he held my face and pressed his mouth to mine. Sweet Jesus, how he kissed me…
His hands, his lips, his tongue…
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When I slid my arms around him and pulled us
together, I could feel his desire, his want, his need hard against my hip.
He groaned and kissed me harder.
I melted into him, his body, his warmth, his
strength.
That kiss was all I'd thought about.
He was all I'd thought about.
I wanted him. I wanted him to have me.
Sliding my hands over the muscles of his back, I slid my fingers into his hair, and I pulled his mouth from mine.
"Bedroom," was all I could say.
He rested his forehead against mine. His chest was heaving, his lips were swollen. "Matt," he said, barely a breath. "If I take you into my room, I will taste you."
My breath hitched, and my belly tightened. He
cradled my face and brushed his lips against mine. "I will have you."
"Please." God, it sounded like I was begging.
Maybe I was.
"Oh, God. Please."
He grabbed my hand, led me out of the kitchen and took me to his bedroom. And my nervousness around him was gone. I was so sure about this.
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This time when he kissed me, it was different.
Slower, harder, deeper.
He took his time undressing me, as though he was savoring every inch of skin he uncovered, kissing and licking as he explored. When I was lying down on his bed, completely at his mercy, his lips were trailing from my chest, down, down, until I was gripping the sheets at my side.
I couldn't not watch him. It was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. When his perfect lips opened to take my cock into his mouth, I was lost to the sensation. His warm, wet mouth was all-encompassing, sucking as his tongue swirled and lapped. His fingers were slick and delicious, pressing and probing.
I groaned shamelessly, writhing under his touch.
His fingers were inside me. One, two, moving and pumping as his mouth worked up and down my cock.
Sucking and sliding, his mouth set my blood on fire and I was warmed right through.
Then he sucked hard and pumped me, once, twice.
And I was lost. I couldn't think, I couldn't speak. I fisted his hair, trying to warn him, but it only made him look up at me. His dark eyes, and his perfect lips around my cock did me in.
Then he moaned.
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I came so fucking hard.
The world disappeared, all sight, all sound. The only thing there was, was his mouth… and tongue, and his moans as he drank what I gave him.
Then he was gone. I tried to open my eyes and lift my hand, but it was too heavy. I heard him chuckle, heard the tear of foil and then, like I weighed nothing, he flipped my boneless body over.
I was face down on his bed. He was between my
thighs, his hands were at my sides and he leaned over my back. I could feel his cock pressing against my ass, so I lifted my hips for him. And he pressed into me.
Oh, fuck.
Oh, fuck.
He pushed and pushed until he was all the way
inside me. Only then did he seem to breathe. Falling forward, so he was lying on top of me, he ground his hips into my ass; his long, hot cock was so far inside me.
Panting, he ran his hands up my sides, hooking his fingers under my shoulders, and then he started to thrust into me. It was everything I imagined it would be.
"So good," he mumbled into the back of my neck.
"Oh, fuck. Matt…" he moaned into my shoulder as he pushed harder, faster. Then he kissed behind my ear and
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down the back of my neck. He was thrusting so hard, so good.
My ass rose to meet him, granting him better
access, deeper, harder. Then he groaned long and loud,
"Oh, gonna come," and I could feel his cock swell and empty into the condom inside me.
He slumped down on top of me, resting his entire weight on my back. In between ragged breaths, he kissed my shoulder, my neck, and the back of my head before he pulled out of me. He rolled us onto our sides, wrapped his arms completely around me, and we drifted off to sleep.
I wasn't kidding when I'd told him in his kitchen if he kissed me I wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Because it wasn't until almost midnight on Sunday night I dragged myself out of his bedroom, after an entire weekend of sex, and made myself go home.
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