Theo

“Coming up?” I tried to sound casual when we got to my building. “You can crash, if you want.” Since you just spent nearly two hours walking with a total stranger when you were going to sleep on someone’s couch. Caleb gave me a look that said he was well aware that wasn’t all I wanted. He raked me with his eyes, an assessing once-over that made me shiver with promise.

“Yup.”

Antony greeted me as I walked in. “Mr. Decker, sir.” He nodded to Caleb. I’d told him a dozen times to call me Theo, and he always inclined his head and said, “Of course, sir,” but it was clear it was never gonna happen and I got worried I was insulting his professionalism, or being too demanding, so I stopped asking.

“Hey, Antony. How’s your night going?”

“Excellent, thank you, sir.” He held up the day’s crossword puzzle, half filled in. “Perhaps I’ll find you to be the answer to a clue in here someday. Short name, potentially punnable—you’re practically a shoe-in.”

“Yeah, you let me know if that ever happens and maybe I’ll try one of your damn puzzles.”

“A clue for you.” He read, “This twangy cousin of the slide guitar was named for a portmanteau of its creators.”

Since Antony worked the night shift and I was often coming and going in the middle of the night, we ended up chatting a lot. Antony had to be about seventy-five years old, and when I asked him why he was working the night shift he got this look and said, “No reason to keep someone else out all night when I have nothing keeping me at home.” I found out from one of the other tenants that he used to work the day shift, but his wife had died a few years before and he’d switched to nights.

Once he’d found out I was a musician, he always asked me any clue in his ever-present puzzle that had to do with music, and somehow he never managed to make me feel stupid when I didn’t know the answers.

“What the hell is a portmanteau?” I asked.

“Dobro,” Caleb said to Antony.

“Oh, there you go, sir,” Antony said, writing it in. He shot me an impressed look.

“Dobro?”

“You know it,” Caleb said. “It’s what the steel guitar is based on. Got a circle of steel in the center, and you play it like this.” He held up his guitar case and mimed playing it on his knees. “With a slide.”

I nodded. “Right. Do you know how to play?”

“Nah, but a friend of mine does.”

After a beat of silence, Antony said smoothly, “Here’s the elevator, sirs. Have a good night.”

I thanked him, and Caleb echoed, “Thanks, man.”

In the elevator, I could feel Caleb’s eyes on me and the air was thick with tension. I glanced up at him and couldn’t look away, the sound of my breathing amplified in the small space, the ding of the elevator shockingly loud.

“Okay, do you want a drink or anything?” I asked as Caleb dropped his bag and guitar inside the door. Then I found myself crowded against the wall, Caleb looking down at me like he wanted to consume me.

Dark green. I could see now that his eyes were a kind of hazel, dark green.

I could feel the heat between us all along my body, and when we both inhaled at the same time, our chests touched.

Now that I knew he was for sure into me, I wanted him enormously. I looked up into his gorgeous eyes and licked my lips, then looked at his mouth. His breath caught and he brought a hand up, touching my bottom lip with his rough thumb.

He made a sound of pleasure as my eyes drifted shut, then I felt his hands, hard on my hips. My eyes opened when I felt his soft beard brush my chin, then his lips landed on my cheekbone, pressing a kiss there as he squeezed my hips even harder. A gentleman brute, that’s what he was. And holy hell did that do it for me.

I turned my face and kissed his mouth, that first firm contact like a hit of honey, melting slowly in my mouth. His tongue was an instrument, and he kissed me like he was playing a song, coming on strong, easing off, building to a crest, changing the rhythm. I threw my arms around his neck to try to keep up, willing to do anything to keep his mouth on mine.

He was solid and warm, pressing me into the wall, and as he started to gentle the kiss, I threw a leg around him, trying to keep him there with me.

He groaned, bent at the knees, and hooked his arms under my thighs, encouraging me to wrap my legs around him. I twined my arms tighter around his neck, demanding more of his mouth.

I kissed him harder, eyes shut tight, like I could block out everything, everything except the feel of Caleb’s body, the smell of his skin and hair, the taste of his mouth. Finally he drew back for a breath and I made a sound of dismay.

“Jesus,” he said, and he unwrapped my legs from his waist. In protest, I made sure every inch of us came into contact as I slid down his body to the floor. Caleb’s eyes got dark.

“I was gonna drop you,” he said by way of explanation. “You want this?”

“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious, don’t you?” He smirked and nodded, and I grabbed his hand, pulling him into the bedroom. I tripped trying to kick my shoes off without untying them, and cursed. Caleb’s eyes on me were hot, even as he chuckled at me, half on the bed, pants undone.

He didn’t help me, though, just kicked off his boots, opened his jeans, and watched me get myself sorted out, until I was sitting there on the bed in just my T-shirt and underwear. Then he descended on me, sliding me up the bed and pinning me there, his jeans rough on my legs, and began kissing me all over again.

It made me wild beneath him. I loved kissing and it was something that I didn’t do much of with random men on tour who wanted to suck me off in my dressing room after a show, or get fucked against the wall in the bathroom of some club.

I was so hard for Caleb, and I ground my erection against him, the friction from his jeans through my underwear perfect. I stripped his shirt off, desperate to get a look at him. And fuck me, he was perfect. He had the kind of burly build that was the opposite of mine, thick with muscle laid over heavy bone, but not gym-honed. His chest and stomach were dusted with dark hair, and he had a chest piece done in the traditional style. Under the ridge of his clavicle, a ship in the ocean in the center, framed by a piece of heavy rope, flanked by roses, with swallows flying off toward his shoulders.

“Holy shit, the sea captain,” I murmured, remembering what he’d reminded me of when I first saw him.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.” I traced the tattoo with my fingertips, resting my palm on the rose over his heart. I could feel the beat, powerful and steady, beneath my palm.

He ducked down and peeled my T-shirt off, too, throwing it aside and looking down at me with lust blazing in his eyes. When he kissed my stomach, the tickle of his beard made me smile. He touched me everywhere, moving me where he wanted me, and I shivered to feel him taking what he wanted. He flipped me onto my stomach and began a thorough exploration of my back, biting at my shoulder blades and tonguing a line down my spine.

He swatted my ass and I lifted it up to him. It was clear how things were going to go, and I wanted it. My underwear was stripped off and he gave a low growl, then palmed my ass, one cheek in each hand. He bent down over my back, slowly, and pushed my hair off my neck to speak into my ear. “I want this.” He gave my ass another squeeze as he said this. I groaned, and nodded so hard I almost tweaked my neck.

I pushed him back just enough to get at his pants. I could see him, hard and straining the fabric even though his fly was undone, and I couldn’t wait to see what he was packing inside those jeans. I dragged them down to find him bare beneath them. Fuck, that was hot. He hissed with relief as I freed him from his jeans, erection stiff against his stomach. And, Jesus Christ, it was gorgeous. Thick and long and so ready to go.

I bent myself in half, unable to resist sucking the head of it. Caleb swore, and slid his fingers into my hair. He let me work him for a minute or so, the taste of his arousal smoky sweet on my tongue. Then, breath coming heavily, he eased his hips away and slammed me back onto the bed, kissing me so hard it was like he could suck his own taste out of my mouth.

I grabbed at him, pulling him closer.

“Okay, fuck me, fuck me,” I demanded.

His eyes flashed and his hands tightened on my shoulders. “Got a condom?”

I grabbed one out of the nightstand and practically shoved it at him, earning a wry grin.

I was buzzy and light-headed with arousal, every nerve ending singing with the promise of Caleb’s body merging with mine. It had been too long.

“I want it like this.” I turned onto my stomach and reached back for him.

“Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, good. Lube?”

I gestured carelessly toward the drawer and nosed into the pillow. I just wanted to stay cocooned in the warmth of my bed and Caleb’s body. To lose myself in friction and pleasure, and not think. It was never this way with the randoms on tour. It was always rushed, impersonal, and there was the constant threat of the cameras on their phones. I never wanted to let them inside my hotel, so I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had sex in an actual bed.

With one big hand, Caleb encouraged my hips up, and my legs apart. He trailed lube around my hole, massaging it into me with sure fingers.

After a minute, I swatted his hand away and decided that his low, indulgent chuckle was quickly becoming one of my favorite sounds. I tucked my knee up, and turned to look over my shoulder, shooting him a look that I hoped would speed things along.

The vision of Caleb, kneeling on the bed, all flashing eyes, beard, and broad shoulders, thick thighs spread, and lubed cock next to my ass was one I mentally filed away to keep me company on tour.

“C’mere,” I said softly, infusing my voice with how very much I wanted him. His eyes closed for a breath, and he slid a hand around my hip, and pushed my legs open wider, which nearly had me moaning for him.

He breached me slow and steady, his thick cock driving into me like it would never stop. First it was painful and I fisted the sheets, trying to adjust to the intrusion. It had been a long time. But I nodded away his questioning hand on my shoulder. It was exactly what I wanted. And I knew that in a moment, it would…there. In the space of a breath, everything changed as my body softened and let him in. He slid the rest of the way in, balls pressed tight to mine, and I moaned, pressing back against him in return.

The second he realized I was ready, he began pounding into me, a hand on my shoulder dragging me back on his cock. He was lust and heat and power and I fucking loved it. He slammed into me again and again, and I canted my hips up to get the angle I knew would drive me to the edge. Then I bounced my ass a little bit against him, grinding the tip of his dick over the spot that made me feel like I was unraveling from the inside.

Caleb made a sound that was half groan and half growl, and held my hips so he could maintain the angle and still pound into me. I was totally lost to it, Caleb’s heat behind me, his tool fucking me like I hadn’t been fucked in…hell, maybe ever. There was something primal and filthy about the way he used his body, the way he threw his strength around to give me exactly what I wanted. What we both wanted.

He was breathing in heavy gasps that told me he was close, when he slowed down and dropped his forehead to the back of my neck, then kissed along my shoulders.

“You ready?” he murmured, and it was something a lover asked, not a random fuck. But I didn’t let myself think about it, because hell yes, I was ready.

“Yes, please,” I choked out, and tightened around him, feeling his hips stutter in response.

“Fuck yes,” he said, and he pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock inside me, then slammed into me full force. Holy hell, was he fucking me. And I came apart, writhing underneath him as I twisted to get a hand on my dick. About five seconds after touching myself, I was gone. The heavy pleasure of Caleb’s cock in my ass unspooled into a dark pulsing orgasm, and I shot into the sheets, come spilling over my hand as I worked myself, my thighs trembling with the force of keeping upright as the pleasure blasted through me.

I saw black spots as I came, and distantly registered Caleb letting out the sexiest damned moan I’d ever heard. Then he gripped my hips to keep me where he wanted me, and slammed home, coming with a growl. He stayed, hips pressed close against mine, and I could still feel him twitching inside me.

He pulled out, got rid of the condom, and eased back into bed, collapsing beside me where I lay on my face, fucked out and satisfied, in a puddle of my own come. He trailed his palm down my sweaty back, and gave my well-used ass a pat. Then he pressed a kiss to my shoulder. I shivered at the combination of sexy and sweet.

“How’re you doing?” he murmured. I moaned. “Mmmm, that’s okay, then.” He kissed up to my neck and licked at the sweat there, fisting my hair up and away from my face. He kissed my ear, and I rolled onto my side, so he was behind me. He kissed my cheek, and I turned further toward him. He went up on one arm and kissed my mouth, eyes open.

“You’re sexy as fuck,” he said, lying back down beside me. It was something that a lot of people said, but they said it like I was an object they desired or a goal they wanted to achieve. Caleb said it like he appreciated me. Like he felt lucky he got to be with me. It made a huge fucking difference.

I maneuvered myself away from the wet spot, which meant sort of draping myself along Caleb. “You’re a fucking beast,” I said, and I splayed a hand low on his stomach and kissed along the tattoo on his chest to make sure it was clear how much I liked it.

He didn’t seem to mind me being all over him, just smiled and glanced over at the other side of the bed.

“It’s wet,” I said, and pouted, an expression calculated to get me another kiss. I wasn’t disappointed. Caleb moved me on top of him and pulled my face down to his, kissing me until I felt my dick start to twitch, excited at the possibility of another go. But it was also so comfortable, splayed out on Caleb’s warm muscles, my face fitting perfectly against his shoulder. I reached out a hand to swat the light off, and Caleb pulled the blanket over us.

I wasn’t usually such a cuddler. Hell, I’d never really had much of a chance. I was just so used to anonymous fucks, or one-night stands who were blitzed out of their minds, or on-again-off-again flings who had no interest in anything but the main event.

Caleb curved one arm around my torso, encouraging me to full-on use him as a pillow. He slid his other hand up my thigh, to the crease of my ass, then he fondled my balls like he had full rights over my body. And it was like the second he acted like he did, I wanted him to have them. I opened my legs for him, and let him play with me, squeezing my balls and ass, stroking my dick with light, teasing fingers, then circling my tip until I was moaning. He slid two fingers into my ass and I cried out, shocked at the bolt of sensitized pleasure that shot through me.

I couldn’t really see him in the dark, just the vague shape of sharply cut nose and cheekbones, the bulk of broad shoulders and thick arms, and the angle of his knee, where he’d braced one foot on the bed to keep me from sliding off his body as he worked me. I was all twisted up on top of him, could feel the flex of his stomach beneath me as he moved. I let out a soft mewling sound, and grabbed onto his arm to stay steady.

“You’re really fucking beautiful,” he murmured. He kept at me, moving his fingers inside me, pressing the spot between my balls and my hole that made me tense up, squeezing my dick just hard enough to make me want but not hard enough to make me come. And I just lay there, racked with pleasure, letting him do what he wanted with me, play me as he pleased.

I relaxed into it with a moan, letting my tensed thighs fall open and closing my eyes in the dark. Caleb muttered, “Yeah,” soft against my hair, and I let go. I think he slid another finger inside me, but I’d stopped cataloging his touches, just giving myself over to them. Suddenly, with the brush of a finger and the twist of a hand, I was coming again, spilling from what felt like a reserve of lust deep inside me that had never been tapped. I made a keening sound, my body shaking with the force of my pleasure but unable to catch at anything, since I was lying on top of Caleb. When his hands had wrung every last shiver of orgasm from me, and I was fuzzy and floating, he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, grounding me against him.

I tried to say something, to offer to return the favor, or to thank him for one of the most erotic experiences of my life, but I couldn’t even find his name on my tongue. He stroked my hair, sweaty strands catching on his rough fingers, and tucked my head under his chin.

I shuddered to sleep in one long breath, so deeply sated that it felt like the world dissolved.

When I woke up the next morning, he was gone.