His eyebrows raise but his lips do too. “I like that idea.”
He sits up and reaches for me but instead of letting him pull me down to lie on the bed, I sit beside him and pull on him to come over to me. “Straddle my legs.”
He hesitates but does it. “Closer.” I squirt some more lube into my palm and then wrap my hand around his cock. His eyelids flutter and he inches even closer to me so our cocks are almost touching. “Grab me.”
He does. I squeeze him and start to move my fist around him. His head tips back and he gives my cock a few tugs as well. But I’m losing him to the sensations I’m creating and I’m okay with that. I hope it only gets worse, actually. I take my free hand and with two fingers, I swipe up some of the lube on my own cock. Then, I move my hand to his ass cheeks. He doesn’t notice or he doesn’t mind. I’m pumping him in a nice, strong rhythm now and he’s making noises in his throat with every tug that is so fucking hot. My fingers slip between his cheeks. “What… are you…”
“Pretend I’m that toy I saw in your drawer,” I whisper, and my fingers breach his entrance.
“Bowen.”
“Just say stop if you want me to stop,” I remind him, and he bends at the waist. The motion almost moves his erection out of my reach, but it also pushes my fingers deeper into his hole. Just two, but for him I have a feeling it’s the first two that don’t belong to him. I lean forward so that I can work his cock better and our foreheads touch. “Say it.”
“Don’t stop,” he pants. “I don’t want you to stop.”
I move my fingers in and almost out in sync with my hand on his cock. He’s groaning and panting and then he says my name. It’s this guttural needy sound and it makes my own cock jerk and throb. His hands hold my face and he kisses me, sort of, he’s so far gone it’s just really lips crushing lips, but damn if it isn’t hot as hell. He somehow finds my dick again and starts rubbing me. It’s frantic and uneven but I’m already so turned on, it’s enough. I curl my fingers just a little inside him and he moans into my mouth and comes. I follow, my release mixing with his on my chest and belly.
He drops his head to my shoulder as my own tips back against his headboard and I let myself absorb this perfect moment. Everything with this guy is pretty fucking great, and as my orgasm high wanes, I realize what a problem that is. We can’t be anything. Even tonight was a stolen moment. “You okay?”
He nods. “I am more than okay.Thatwas so much more than okay.”
I smile. “I agree. But you broke your own rules tonight. I let you, but they aren’t my rules, so I don’t have regrets.”
“I don’t either,” Chase replies and lifts his head, kissing the side of my neck as he pulls away. He stands up and walks into the bathroom. I watch him go and then look for something to clean up with. I’m covered in our mess.
I hear the shower come on, and Chase’s naked body and just been fucked hair, which looks as good as his perfectly styled hair, steps into the open door. “My shower is big enough for two. Never had two in it, but tonight is about trying new things, apparently.”
I was right. He hadn’t had ass play with a partner before. I get off the bed and join him in the shower, which of course ends up with us fooling around a little bit more. Just some kissing and fondling. I make sure to keep it PG, and I can tell he’s doing the same. But my memory is storing everything about this moment, the warm water sliding over his taut body, the desire in his light blue eyes, the sleek luxurious feel of gray slate shower floor under my feet. Because this moment is going in the spank bank for future use. I have a feeling I’m going to be jerking off to thoughts of Chase for a very long time.
We’re drying off when my phone starts going off. First, I can hear it ringing. Then it’s alerting me to a video call. Then there’re a bunch of pings which must be an influx of texts. With each sound my anxiety climbs to a new level. “Shit.” I wrap the towel around my waist and rush out of his bathroom.
I follow our trail of clothes until I find my pants at the top of the stairs and dig into the back pocket to get to my phone. Chase wanders out of the bathroom and stands at the foot of the bed, watching me as he rubs the towel over his wet hair. “You have heard of voicemail, right?”
“Yeah, I don’t do that,” I mutter and open up my phone. It’s Autumn.Allof it is Autumn. I scroll through the texts and each breath I take gets deeper and deeper as I read. Because she’s okay. It isn’t a life or death situation, so the anxiety vise that had started to compress my chest releases. “It’s my sister. My brother did a TV interview today. She says it wasn’t great.”
That’s an understatement. Autumn used words like disaster. Nightmare. And political suicide. Her last text is simply a link. I click it as Chase comes to stand beside me. It’s my brother Woody, wearing a blazer and a button-down shirt that definitely needs an iron. He’s got on a stupid bow tie too. I don’t know why he thinks those are a good idea. The reporter is off-camera. She holds her mic out. “So you think that people need marijuana in Vermont?”
“I think it’s a viable industry,” Woody replies. “We need to tr-treat it as su-such.”
Shit. He stops to clear his throat. That’s what he does to regroup, mentally, when his stutter gets away from him. It’s a nervous response. He smiles. It’s a tense smile if you know him, but if you don’t, it might appear annoyed or fake. Or both. The reporter asks another question. “So, this election is about creating grow-ops for you.”
“Supporting a new, growing farming industry,” Woody replies and I sigh in relief he didn’t stutter over that. I’m about to ponder why Autumn thinks this is so bad when it happens.
The reporter asks, “Do you smoke drugs, Mr. Whitlock?”
“What?”
“Do you smoke drugs?”
“Marijuana is a medical aid for everything from cancer to insomnia to anxiety,” Woody shoots back. I hear Chase groan behind me.
“So do you have a medical condition that you think requires drugs?”
“I… we…. It’s... I don’t think it has to just be for medical reasons but—"
“So, you smoke it for fun?”
“I didn’t say I smoke or take anything,” Woody looks like his bow tie is suddenly way too tight.
