Page 8 of Toren

“Come over tonight,” Andrew said next, less of a question and more of a demand. Toren arched a brow and Andrew’s cheeks flushed. “This is also foreplay, by the way.”

“Is everything foreplay with you?”

“If done right.”

Toren shook his head, sucking in a lungful of smoke and blowing it out over the edge of the balcony. “I think you might be more than I signed up for.”

Andrew made an unhappy noise, drawing his foot back like he’d been wounded. Toren looked at him again.

“I didn’t mean that poorly,” he said. “It’s not that you’re too much, just…I wasn’t looking for anything and here you are.”

“Here I am.” Andrew picked up the ashtray and held it out for him. Toren took one last drag of his cigarette and smashed the butt into the tray until it went out. Andrew hesitated before returning it to the table.

“Tonight sounds good.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“Tonight sounds good,” Toren repeated, sliding off the chair and onto his knees. He knee-walked his way in between Andrew’s spread legs and tugged at the waistband of his underwear until Andrew’s dick was freed. As tired as Toren was, Andrew’s cock sat heavy and soft against his thigh.

“Toren,” Andrew whispered his name, working his fingers through Toren’s tangled, messy hair.

“Tonight sounds good,” he said again. “Right now sounds better.”

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

Toren agreed by licking Andrew from root to tip and taking the entire length of him into his mouth. Andrew wasn’t hard so it was easier to get it all in there, and Toren groaned when Andrew’s cock grew heavier on his tongue, thicker against the roof of his mouth.

“You don’t have a gag reflex, do you?” Andrew asked, tugging gently on Toren’s hair.

He shook his head, swallowing and letting Andrew’s cock stretch toward the back of his throat. Once Andrew was as hard as he’d been the night before, Toren hollowed his cheeks and started to suck. Andrew cursed under his breath and leaked precum onto Toren’s eager tongue.

It took no work at all to make Andrew come, and Toren swallowed down every drop. Andrew had a tight hold on his hair, and Toren blinked up through teary eyes, committing the slack relief of Andrew’s face to memory. Drool leaked from the corner of Toren’s mouth, and Andrew swiped it away, his cock still stretching Toren’s jaw. Andrew gave another thrust and Toren did sputter, which made Andrew smile before releasing Toren’s hair.

Toren rocked back onto his heels and carefully tucked Andrew back into his underwear, then reached down and made a loose fist around his own dick. He held Andrew’s stare while he stroked himself, forcing himself to keep his eyes open the entire time. With only his own arousal for lube, the friction was rough against his palm, and it was a sharp bite of pain that toppled him over the edge of his own release.

He came with a grunt, a fountain of cum painting his knuckles and sliding down his shaft and his balls. Toren shivered, finally looking away, but only to throw his head back and catch his breath. He kept touching himself, stroking, tugging, until his balls were empty, and then he stood to go inside and wash his hand off. Andrew stopped him, grabbing his wrist and bringing Toren’s hand to his mouth. He used his tongue to clean the cum off Toren’s fingers, the rumbling moans and groans doing nothing for either of their erections.

“Tonight, then,” Andrew said, letting go of Toren’s hand.

“I’m assuming you have condoms and lube at your house.”

“You’re correct.” Andrew licked his lips. “I should head back to my room so I can get cleaned up and checked out.”

Toren shook his head to break free of the horniness that had overtaken him and nodded his agreement. He grabbed his phone and found a message from Riggs confirming twelve was fine alongside an address. He heart-reacted to the message, then brought his phone and his cigarettes back into the hotel room. He plugged his phone in and set it on the nightstand beside Andrew’s phone, also probably dead, then he sat down on the edge of the bed.

Andrew followed him inside with the vodka bottle, placing it on the entertainment center before searching the floor for his clothes. Toren watched the other man dress, appreciating the long lines of Andrew’s body and the carefully controlled way he moved it. He was excited for later that night, to learn firsthand what it would feel like to have that body on top of him, moving and gliding, and thrusting.

“What’s your phone number?” Andrew asked him, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and swiping alerts off the screen.

Toren held out his hand. “Do you want me to put it in?”

“I got it.”

He told Andrew his number, and two seconds later, his own phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“Now you have mine,” Andrew said. “Is six too early?”

Toren mentally calculated how long lunch with Riggs would take and adding a two-hour drive back to San Diego would put him home before four. That should be plenty of time for him to get ready for a six p.m. date.