“No complaints so far,” Preacher said, earning a soft laugh from Memphis.
Fuck. Preacher wanted to bottle the sound. It was so rare. He wasn’t even sure he’d ever heard it before. He wanted to figure out the key to making him laugh and do it over and over again. He needed to know what a happy Memphis looked like.
All thoughts disappeared as Memphis dipped his head and sucked on Preacher’s balls, his tongue teasing the skin just behind. Preacher’s hands fisted Memphis’s hair with a growl. For somebody who didn’t know what he was doing, he had Preacher two seconds away from coming. It was like he’d decided to learn Preacher’s body by taste and touch. And it wasn’t just the feel of his mouth or the hungry way he clutched at Preacher, it was the almost hesitant way he tried something new before diving in with enthusiasm. It was sexy as fuck, and he wanted to do the same, wanted to taste and touch and tease Memphis until he was begging for more.
When Memphis took him back in his mouth again, Preacher couldn’t stop the tiny aborted thrusts, rolling his hips as he fucked into the tight suction of the boy’s mouth, waves of heat and pulses of pleasure coursing through him, driving him closer to orgasm. “You’re gonna make me come,” he warned.
Memphis didn’t pull back; if anything he gripped Preacher tighter, like he didn’t want to miss a drop. That thought and the perfect suction of Memphis’s lips were all it took. His release hit him hard, his whole body tightening as he flooded Memphis’s mouth with his release. Memphis took it all, swallowing it down and nursing his cock like he didn’t want to miss a drop. It was sexy as fuck, but Preacher finally had to pull free, too sensitive to let Memphis keep going.
He dragged Memphis up off his knees, forcing his lips apart to taste himself on his tongue. “My turn,” he said against his lips, kissing his jaw, then his throat, reaching for the hem of Memphis’s borrowed shirt without thought.
Memphis’s hands gripped his wrists hard. “No.”
Preacher froze. “Why?”
“You know why,” Memphis said, any light in his eyes dying.
Preacher shook his head. “Is this really about your scars? Because I’ve seen them, remember? I’ve seen your scars and I’m still here.”
“You haven’t seen all of them,” Memphis said.
Preacher didn’t know how to get past this. “Then show me, so I can prove to you that nothing is going to keep me from wanting you. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. When I laid on that couch last night with you in my bedroom, all I could think about was crawling on top of you, stripping you naked, and kissing every inch of your body, scars and all.”
Memphis gazed at him, seeming wary but also…hopeful? Fuck, if Preacher was going to get Memphis to trust him, he was going to have to be a hundred percent honest, which might scare the shit out of him.
“You’re sexy as hell. You’ve got the face of a fucking supermodel, but that’s not what turns me on about you. I like that you were scared to death of me but still were somehow determined to fight me. I like that you whipped off your shirt in the middle of a police station to prove your point.” Now, Memphis just looked confused at Preacher’s sudden speech. “I spent half my life in prison. I showered next to men who had scars and tattoos and disfiguring injuries. You can’t shock me.”
“I’m not worried about the shock. I’m worried about the pity. I can’t stand it when people look at me like I’m pathetic,” Memphis snapped.
“Pathetic? What the fuck? People who see your scars are horrified that anybody would have to suffer like that. They don’t think you’re pathetic. They think you’re a survivor. Fuck, Memphis. Please. Please…just let me see you. I just want to make you feel good.”
Memphis was paralyzed in Preacher’s gaze. He said all the right things and did all the right things, but the idea of being rejected by somebody who made Memphis feel the way he did made him want to puke. He couldn’t stop his brain from flashing back to those few awkward hookups when he had first made it to Los Angeles. Most men who had heard Memphis’s numerous rules had run screaming before anything ever went down, but the three men who’d stuck around noticeably flinched at even the slightest feel of the missing flesh on Memphis’s thighs. After that, there was no pleasure in anything they did together, at least not for Memphis. He usually just laid there until it was over and the other guy rolled off him, dressed, and left.
Memphis found it impossible to relax whenever sex was involved. Too many variables were always running through his brain. But now…there…Preacher was begging him to bare his soul and his body, and Memphis wanted, more than anything, to trust that Preacher could want him with the lights on and his clothes off. With a noise of frustration, he ripped his shirt off and gave the shorts a slight push, letting them fall to his feet before turning away from Preacher so he could look his fill.
“There. There you go. Okay?” He hated the tremor in his voice or that he was once more close to tears. Fuck.
He flinched as Preacher’s arms came around him, trying to shrug him off as he curled in on himself. But Preacher was bigger and stronger. He ran rough hands down Memphis’s arms and laced their fingers together, forcing Memphis’s arms across his body as he placed open mouth kisses against his shoulder, his throat. “Kiss me,” Preacher rumbled against his ear.
Memphis turned his head without thought, mouth opening under Preacher’s. He didn’t know how long they stood like that, Preacher holding him, kissing him, making no move to try for more. Memphis relaxed in increments, the tension easing from his back and shoulders over time.
“Get on the bed,” Preacher said.
It wasn’t a question, so when Preacher released him, he just did it, lying on his back, heartbeat stumbling when Preacher crawled onto the mattress, looming above him on all fours. “Just close your eyes and try to relax.” Memphis gave him an incredulous look. “I’ve seen it all. I’m still here. I still want you so bad my dick is trying to rally.” He pushed Memphis’s hair out of his eyes in a gesture that was far more erotic than it had a right to be. “Don’t you get tired of worrying so much?”
Yes. So much. He swallowed hard and just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. This was so much more intimate than anything Memphis had ever imagined, like he’d just handed Preacher his soul or something and was asking him not to crush it. Preacher laid on top of him, his weight pressing him into the mattress in a way that had his cock hardening once more.
Preacher’s lips found his again, but, somehow, this kiss was different. He kissed Memphis like he wanted to consume him, like he couldn’t get enough. It was dizzying. The first two times they’d kissed, it had felt frantic and fleeting, like it would be ripped away at any second, but this time, Preacher kissed him like he could do it all night, like just the slide of their mouths together and the gentle way he bit at Memphis’s lips was enough.
Except, it wasn’t enough, not for Memphis. He was achingly hard, and Preacher was starting to rally, and the feel of his cock pressed against Memphis’s hip was driving him crazy. He surged up against him, moaning at the pressure of Preacher’s belly against his length.
“Fuck, you’re driving my crazy with those noises you’re making,” Preacher said, pressing the words into the skin of Memphis’s jaw. Memphis hadn’t even noticed he was making any noises, far more interested in the sound of their lips meeting and parting and the feel of Preacher on top of him. Before he could think of anything to say, Preacher was moving lower, his fingers playing with one of Memphis’s nipples, while he licked and sucked the other. Memphis heard it then—the whimpers he was making, but he couldn’t help it. This was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and he wanted more of it, faster, and yet, he also never wanted it to stop. He was too turned on to be embarrassed.
Preacher kissed his way over his ribs and down his belly. Memphis held his breath as he moved lower still until he laid between Memphis’s splayed legs. He expected to feel Preacher’s mouth envelop his cock, but, instead, he pushed his thighs wide, pressing his lips against the scars from his graft donor site. Panic shot through him and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to bolt upright, but Preacher’s big hand forced him back down. “Stop. Just…let me.”
Memphis’s heart slammed in his chest, fear and dread causing his cock to soften once more. Preacher’s hand slid down Memphis’s belly, wrapping around his erection, working him lazily.
“Can you feel it when I kiss you here?” Preacher asked, mouth pressing against the matching rectangular scar on the other thigh.
