Chapter 22

Anthony

“Damn it,” I hiss when the reminder text from Jon pops up on my phone. “I’d forgotten about checking on Joey and Andi.”

Now I’m not only talking to myself but lying to myself as well.

I’ve been talking myself off of the ledge all damn day, but that fucking text just sealed my fate. I wonder if he’ll accept blaming him for what may go down tonight.

I should’ve headed over right after work. Knock on the door, make sure he and Andi were fine, and then turn and walk away. But no. I head home when I clock out midafternoon and go straight to my apartment. I shower and put on the gray sweats he mentioned being obsessed with weeks ago. I know what’s going to happen the second my knuckles meet the wood of his front door. My cock, already hard and thick, jerks in anticipation.

Standing at the door for several long minutes, I’m almost relieved that he’s not answering, but the car in the driveway I know to be his gives me pause.

Maybe he’s out with Andi? Bending, I try to see through the frosted glass, but the sun is at my back making it impossible to see inside. Rattled, I knock again, harder this time.

“Use your key!” I hear Joey yell from inside.

“I don’t have a key,” I respond half as loud, hoping he can hear me from wherever he is inside.

What I don’t expect is him answering the door in thin shorts and nothing else. My mouth waters at the sight of his abs and that glorious trail of hair below his navel.

“I’m fucked.”

“You seem optimistic for a guy who turned me down two days ago.”

Shaking my head back and forth, I manage to take my eyes off of his pale skin only to focus on the pulse pounding in his neck.

“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

When I gain enough strength to meet his eyes, I’m done for.

“Are you alone?”

He nods. “Andi will be here in a couple of hours. I thought you went with Jon—”

I charge him, catching his words with my mouth as I push him farther inside and kick the door closed with my sneaker.

I almost want him to push me away, to tell me to fuck off for denying him the other night. Things would be a lot simpler if he did. I have no such luck, I realize, when his fingers find my hair and his nails score down the back of my neck. Athletic legs wrap around my body, and by memory, I carry him to his room before kicking that door closed as well.

“Tell me to stop,” I breathe against his lips. My cock jerks his dismay.

“No fucking way,” he declares before pulling my t-shirt over my head by the fabric at my shoulder blades. “If you didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have shown up wearing these fucking sweats.”

Chuckling, I know he’s a hundred percent correct. I’ve thought about this moment all day, hell, for weeks, but I was hopeful I’d be able to resist the sexual tension that’s been building since the first time I laid eyes on him in the conference room at GMQ. The other night, coming from the stroke of his hands, only served to ramp up the need even more. It didn’t abate my need for him. Clearly, the two orgasms I helped him achieve didn’t do anything but stoke this long building flame either.

“Are we really doing this?” he asks as my lips meet the scruff on his jaw.

“This isn’t exactly how I pictured it,” I confess as my fingers and thumbs find the furled flesh of his nipples.

Arching his back, he pushes even further into my hands.

“How have you been picturing it?” His words come out with a moan, and my hips jut harder against him.

We’re both shirtless, but I haven’t managed to set him down on the bed yet.

“Which time?” I ask. “I’ve thought of having you every way imaginable, but our first time was supposed to be slow and incredible.”

“That’s sweet.” He smiles, then the devil nips my bottom lip hard enough I’m certain I’m bleeding. He soothes the ache away with a delicate sweep of his tongue. “But I don’t have the patience for slow right now. Incredible is a given, but we can do the gentle and loving later.”

He nods enthusiastically, so animatedly that I don’t even falter at his use of the word loving.

“I don’t want to rush this,” I confess, meaning every syllable, but the truth doesn’t keep my cock from jerking in disagreement.

“Anthony,” he pants against my mouth as he pulls one of his arms from my neck and lets it roam down my stomach.

The rigid muscles bunch and jump, chasing after his hand as he lowers it to the waistband of my sweats. “You kissed me in my living room in front of my oldest friends.”

“I did,” I agree, mouth against the column of his neck.

“You almost made me come on a rollercoaster earlier this week.”

“Oh God,” I moan at the reminder of the navy blue boxers he was wearing that night.

Holding him tighter, I try to make it difficult for him to get to my dick, but the eager fucker found his way out of the top of my sweats. The brush of his fingertips makes me groan again.

“You came in my hands.” His teeth grip the lobe of my ear.

“I’m fixing to do it again,” I warn.

Jesus, why didn’t I stroke off before leaving my house?

“The only way you’re going to get what you want tonight is if you take care of me first. I’m seconds away from tying you to my bed and having my way with you.”

“Fuck, Joey. That’s a tough choice.” He grunts when I unwrap him from my body and toss him on the bed. “But my guy always comes first.”

I watch him mouth my guy followed by the sexiest smile.

I don’t give him or myself a second to analyze my words as I reach down and strip his shorts from his body.

“No boxers tonight, Joseph?”

His laughter falters when I shove my sweats down to reveal that I’m not wearing boxers either.

“Andi and I are getting in the hot tub later.”

I have no clue how that explains his lack of undergarments, but I’m not in my right mind enough to scrutinize his words.

The laughter fades away completely when my mouth is on him the very next second. For being the one to want things slow, I don’t waste an extra second before I’m wrapping my hand around his cock. I let my tongue tease the slit at the top of his dick. He must approve if the sounds coming from his mouth and the jerking of his hips are any indication.

His hands find my hair, tugging, pulling, and clenching fistfuls exactly the way I like.

Two fingers from my free hand join the mix, toying with the crevice between his ass cheeks. He’s left speechless as I torture him. His body jerks, and I can feel the tension building around my fingers as I press softly on the hot pucker. Wanting to savor him, I shift from hungry, sucking licks to languid strokes with the flat of my tongue up his length.

“Anthony, Anthony, Anthony,” he begins to chant.

Pulling my mouth away from him, I focus on his face until, confused as to why I stopped, he looks down at me. “You call me Tony when you come.”

With a feverish nod of his head in agreement, his hands urge my head back down to his weeping cock. The saltiness of his precome makes me want to savor every single drop I know he’s about to give me.

Mere seconds later, he’s yelling “Tony!” and clenching down on my fingers, the muscles in his ass pulsing as he fills my mouth with cum. With him pulled to the edge of the bed and my knees on his carpet, it takes every ounce of restraint not to rub my cock against the soft fabric of his comforter, knowing if I do, I’ll cum.

Lapping at him, I drink every drop of him I can manage, even the rogue droplets that had the audacity to try and roll away. Unable to handle any more sensation, he urges my head away.

When I look up, I find a sated smile and soft eyes shadowed by heavy eyelids.

“Your turn,” he whispers.

“If your mouth even gets near my cock,” I warn.

His smile grows, and mine falters when he places his feet flat on the bed, and his legs fall open. Shaven and completely bare, I groan at the sight of what’s waiting for me.

Scrambling for my sweats, I find, open, and have a condom on in record time.

Joey points to the bedside table, and when I open it, I grab the bottle of lube without even having a moment of hesitation. In the next breath, my hand is sticky with its contents and pressing back against the forbidden darkness below his heavy sack. I tease the ring, dipping in with one finger at first until he’s rocking down on my hand and begging for more.

Watching his face, I press forward, searching and finding the spot inside of him that forces a gasp from his kiss-swollen mouth.

“Fuck me,” he begs, but his hips keep rocking, my fingers keep rubbing.

“You sure?” I ask as I slip my fingers free and oil up my throbbing dick.

“Yes,” he answers breathlessly, hissing a little when I leak cold lube onto his own cock.

That voice, the one in the back of my head that has been telling me this is the wrong thing to do, chooses this moment to sneak back in. It warns me, urges me to walk away before this final step is taken. As sure as I was that I wanted to tell everyone how much I like this guy, no matter the consequences, how much I can see us dating, that’s exactly how sure I am that when I stick my dick in him, this entire thing has the potential to blow up in my face. Up to this moment, I can tell his brother that I’ve resisted this most intimate connection.

“Anthony,” Joey pleads and reaches for me with one hand while the other starts a slow, hypnotic rub of his cock.

It’s over.

The fighting.

The doubts.

The voice is silent.

The only thing I can hear is my own heartbeat. The only thing I fight is the urge to slam inside of him, knowing that easing in, going slow as rings of muscles fight the intrusion, will feel even better.

Hitching an arm under his back, I lift him until he’s further up on the bed. His legs, just like before, fall open in the most welcoming sight I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if it’s the sight of his cock already thickening again or the submissive position he’s in, but I can’t wait a second longer.

“Joey,” I hiss when I ease my cock past the first circle of resistance.

Fuck. He’s hot, perfect, and tighter than I imagined when I had my fingers in him just moments ago. I push harder, guiding my dick slowly until I’m buried fully inside of him.

My eyes clench shut, and the tremble in my hands is undeniable as I hold him against my chest. With my nose buried in the crook of his neck, I pull out a few inches only to slide back inside. He groans, pain or pleasure I don’t know.

As a distraction, I nip at his neck, sucking on his flesh the way his body is drawing on me. When his heels dig into my lower spine and urge me forward, my mind clears, the only things existing are he and I and this absolutely fucking perfect moment.

With a little more control than the initial second when I pushed inside of him, I find a rhythm that makes him whimper the same way he did the other night before he came grinding on me. Harder and deeper I grind into him, my pelvis making contact with the back of his hand as he fists his cock.

“Anthony,” he moans, “better than I imagined. So much better.”

I nip and suck harder on his neck. Words aren’t even possible for me at this point.

His sounds change when I pull back, spreading his legs wide with my own. One hand grips his hip, but I use the other to swat his hand out of the way so I can be the one to make him come. Three short strokes over his slick cock are all I manage before his prostate pulses, clenching his ass around my cock. His cock jets thick lines of cum on his bunched abs, pulsing I can feel all the way in my soul.

The rhythmic clutching from my base to tip rips the orgasm from my own body. Buried as deep as I can manage, my cock jerks, kicking inside of him as my seed spills into the condom.

The panting sounds of our breaths disappear first, followed by tunnel vision. Systematically, my senses melt away until all I know is the tightness of his body and the brush of his hand down my stomach.

We both moan when I pull from him and crash into the bed beside him. I don’t know how I accomplish not landing on him, but somehow luck is on my side when I hit the mattress and cool sheets.

A second later he’s curled against my chest, and my arm is wrapped around him.

Absolute perfection.