My original plan for the night was paella, but Theo could use something warm, so I make soup and sandwiches instead. The temperature outside has continued to drop, so soup fits the mood better anyway.
Soon, butter, garlic and herbs scent the air. In case the weather gets as bad as the predictions, I check my generator. My cabin is ready for any scenario.
But I am not ready for Theo.
Gorgeous, sweet, insatiable Theo Donahue padding into my living room with wet hair, pink skin, and bare feet. Goddamn, are feet supposed to be that sexy? I certainly do not have a fetish or, hell, even mild foot appreciation. But Theo’s bare feet in my house… like he’s comfortable and in for the night… the sight tries to fist my cock.
I hand him another water, and he smiles shyly, but takes it. “I’m not sick.”
“I know. Soup and sandwiches okay? The temperature is dropping like crazy.”
“Sounds great, Matt. Thank you.” He swoops up Mulder, who I brought with me yesterday. The cat likes my cabin as much as Theo does. “I brought some cookies from Maxine’s.”
“Pretty sure you are sweet enough on your own.” I give him a kiss, then make our plates—and Theo joins me at the table.
“What’s your favorite drink?” I’m always curious for more information about Theo. “Like wine, or a cocktail? What would you make for yourself at Black Diamond?”
“Ummm . . .I like vodka, no taste and all that. Not much of a drinker.”
We eat in a companionable conversation, ebbing and flowing around our meal. He insists on helping clean up. Having him there, in my space, is easy. Soon, I have him where I really want him: clean, fed, and in my arms on my couch.
I give him a scorching kiss, teasing his mouth and wrapping my arms around him until his sounds turn needy and his body presses harder against mine. I pull away, noticing his eyes hooded and dark.
“Let’s get this movie started, or we will never make it.” I rearrange us, stretched out with his slim hips between my thighs. We sit back on my wide couch, legs up on the ottoman. My hands find their way under the blanket and his shirt, settling on his warm skin.
About halfway through the movie—a blockbuster from last summer—my lips find Theo’s neck. He turns curious eyes on me, and I place a soft kiss against his lips.
“Watch the movie, sweetness,” I murmur in his ear, then return my slow attention to his neck. He squirms and settles, and I can’t help but laugh. Teasing Theo is sexy as fuck.
My hands drift down to his hips, over his erection—hard already, of course. “So needy.” I stroke him lightly through the soft fabric of the very same lounge pants I bought him when he was sick.
“I’m not. . .” The action movie’s glow plays across his face, breathtaking in the shadow and blue. He swallows hard.
“Not what?”
“If you tease, I’m not good at . . .at holding back.”
I spread my hand wide over his clothes and against his dick, fingertips playing lightly against his balls. His breath comes short and quick.
“I didn’t ask you to, did I?” I know a thing or two about needy boys with sensitive prostates. Maybe more than Theo. “How many times can you come?”
“What?”
I chuckle against his ear. “You heard me just fine, sugar. How many times have you come when having sex?”
His body presses up against my still-teasing hand. “Just once.”
I nuzzle his neck at the confession. Then no one has ever been halfway trying. “I bet you could, though, couldn’t you, sweetness? I bet you could come more than once for me.” I move my hand down inside his pants now, certain I can complete my task during the action sequence playing out on the screen. With my other arm, I situate him where I want him, his back to my front. Placing my feet on the ground, I dip down his pants to find a slim thigh and spread it, tilting his pelvis up and hooking his leg over my knee.
I stroke his cock, damp now with his excitement, slowly, building up his need. Theo’s back rises and falls against my chest, and his back bows, seeking more than the languid strokes for his pretty cock.
My left hand skims under his pants, too, on a quest to explore just how sensitive his tight balls are.Very,if the sharp breath and cut-off moan he makes are any indication. I smile into the kisses on his neck. “Watch the movie, sweetheart.”
My left hand seeks out his hole. I just want to play, to see what he likes, and his dick throbs and jumps against my hand, letting me know his preferences.
Gently, I stroke the puckered skin around his entrance. Smooth strokes cause his legs to open wider, his hips to raise.
“Matt.”
