He places soft, tender kisses down the column of my throat, and I’m so lost in the feel of his lips and his hand around my cock that I don’t even register he’s undone his own jeans until his dick is pressed against mine.
I peer down and moan at the sight of us both in his hand.
“Look at me, Jackson.”
I do, and he leans his forehead against mine once more.
“This okay?”
“Yes. Please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says as he strokes us both together. “I just want you to feel good.”
When his mouth moves back down, I tilt my head again. “Feelsogood.”
“Good,” he says into my neck, growing increasingly breathless as his hand moves up and down our shafts, slicking us with precum. “Because I’m not going to last long.”
“Me neither.”
I last a few seconds longer than he does at least, which makes me wonder how long he had been denying himself. Not that I can really focus onthatas his release shoots out all over his hand and my cock. The feel of it along with his groans of pleasure cause me to follow after until his hand is covered with both our cum.
We stay there for a moment after, his lips brushing the side of my neck, my eyes too heavy to open, a mess still between us.
Once Isaac has mostly caught his breath, he kisses my throat before pulling away to reach behind me. He grabs a hand towel off the counter and cleans us both up with it. Folding it in on itself, he rolls it into a ball so he can set it back down without anything touching the kitchen counter that probably shouldn’t.
Gripping me gently by the chin, he brings my face to his so he can look so deep into my eyes I think I might fall into his.
“How are you feeling sweetheart?”
“Perfect,” I mumble weakly.
“Are you sure?”
I can see the concern in his gaze, so I lift my hand to the side of his face. He leans into my palm as I swipe my thumb under his eye as though I can get rid of all the worry there.
“I’mperfect, Isaac. I swear. I’m so fucking happy.”
Those words seem to do it, and his panic fades.
“Me too,” he says, placing a soft kiss against my lips. “Youmake me so fucking happy.”
Four months later.
The second the front doorcloses behind me, before Jackson can get barely two steps toward the hall, every bit of restraint I pretended to have at the restaurant snaps clean in half.
I grab onto his arm and pull him back toward me before my hands grip the lapels of his suit jacket. Shoving him gently but firmly, I press his back into the wall beside the door. His breath leaves him in a surprised laugh, then my mouth is on his as I give in to the hunger that’s been consuming me since the moment I saw him in that damn suit, a hunger that has nothing to do with the dinner we just ate.
It’s messy and wild, nothing like the polite smiles we wore at the restaurant. My fingers slide into his hair, tugging just to the point that has him gasping. His hands land on my waist as I press close, as close as I can get without tearing both our suits off right here in the entryway.
“Fuck,” I rasp against his lips. “You look so fucking hot in a suit.”
His smile is slow, pleased, and maybe a little smug. That only makes me kiss him harder.
We stumble blindly toward the hallway, mouths fused, teeth grazing. Jackson tastes like wine and chocolate and the kind of happiness I’ve been dreaming my whole life to have.
The restaurant we just came from, The Vista, is the only upscale one in Viridian Falls. It had dim lighting, chandeliers, overpriced entrées, and a stunning view of the Viridian River. It was the perfect place to take him to celebrate.
He got his first publication. It was just a small piece, a short story accepted in an indie journal. But, fuck, I’ve never been more proud of anyone. Watching him try to hide how much it meant to him, how he kept opening that acceptance email and grinning at his screen when he thought I wasn’t looking, has made my heart feel ten times bigger this past week.
