I hadn’t mustered the courage to bring it up yet, but a part of me dreaded packing our bags and heading back to the east coast. Oliver claimed to be all in with our relationship, but that was easy to say when we weren’t dealing with the real-life consequences of being together. Whether Oliver wanted to admit it or not, he was still famous, and him coming back from L.A. with a boyfriend in tow instead of a potential wife was bound to make waves.
“No, not yet,” he agreed, tugging me closer and looping his leg over my side to lock me to him. “For right now, less talking, more kissing.” He rolled his hips forward, pressing the hard, insistent length of his erection against me.
Maybe he was simply making up for lost time, but the man was a machine. I’d never known anyone who could get hard again so quickly after coming. And maybe I liked to flatter myself, but these weren’t any ordinary orgasms, either. The first time I’d blown him, he’d nearly passed out from the force of his release as he’d emptied himself down my throat.
And while I’d like nothing more than to enact a repeat performance of that particular moment, I recognized that he was using sex to once again distract me from my earlier question. But because turn about was fair play, I reached between us and palmed the length of him. It was a good thing I had such big hands. “Answer me, I might take care of this for you.”
He groaned and flexed his hips, seeking added friction. “What was the question again?”
“Why’d you sign up to be on the show?” I asked, leaning forward to flick my tongue over his nipple.
“Ugh, now you’re just playing dirty.”
I wrapped my fingers around his cock and swiped my thumb up and over its crown, paying special attention to its leaking slit. “If I was really playing dirty, I’d promise to let you fuck me.” The words were out before I could even consider the impact they’d have on him. Or on us, for that matter.
While I had friends who’d fuck (or let themselves be fucked) within hours of meeting someone new, I’d always taken my time with my partners, enjoying the anticipation that built slowly over time. Sure, there’d been instances when I’d craved down-and-dirty, fuck-me-now-please sex, but mostly I was happy to get my partner off with my hands or mouth—and vice versa. But twice now, I’d dreamed about Oliver rolling me onto my stomach and fucking me like he’d never fucked anyone else before. Just this morning, I’d woken up with my hips pressed to the mattress, my cock leaking all over the sheets. Clearly, I was ready to take the next step with him.
The thing I didn’t know was if he was ready, too. Apparently, however, I was about to find out.
“Is that what you want?” he asked, his words coming out barely above a whisper.
I nodded and rotated my wrist, tugging my hand upward and then pushing it back down the length of him. I repeated the motion until his eyes glazed over, and his breathing turned ragged. “I woke up this morning screaming your name,” I whispered. “I was dreaming about you pounding me into the mattress.”
“Fuck,” he croaked, his whole body quivering beneath my touch.
“That’s the idea.”
He rocked against my hand. “I wasn’t sure how that would work with us,” he managed to eke out between pants and groans. “I didn’t know if you’d be into that.”
“I’m into anything. As long as it’s with you.”
“Would … would you want to fuck me, too?” Nervous eyes found mine.
To quiet his fears, I kissed him slowly, pouring all of my feelings into the action. When I eventually pulled away, I said, “I want what you want, Oliver. I’m switch, so if that’s something you want to try, we can. If you don’t, that’s okay, too.”
He reached for me then, his big, strong hand stroking me in time with the cadence of my breathing. “For now, can this be enough?”
Slowly, I rolled us over so that I straddled him. Taking both of us in hand, I rocked my pelvis forward and then back again. Oliver’s attention dropped from my face to fix wholly on our cocks rubbing together in my grip. He pushed his hips upward, creating more friction.
“This is more than enough,” I assured him.
And that was the end of our discussion.
For several long moments, the only sound in the room was our labored breathing, our whimpers of pleasure, and moans of desire.
When he was close, I picked up the pace of my strokes. He bolted upright into a seated position and tunneled his fingers through my hair, pulling me in for a hot, frenzied kiss. When he pulled away for breath, he dropped his forehead against mine.
“So good,” he moaned, his cock jerking in my hand as he came all over my fist and his stomach, his six pack constricting with each new spurt of cum. When he was empty and sated, he added his hand to mine and pumped me faster and harder until I was trembling with the power of my impending release.
“Oh fuck,” I groaned.
With each new thrust, my orgasm built. My balls grew tight, pressure forming at the base of my spine and radiating outward. A tingling warmth that felt suspiciously like love unfurled in my chest as the first waves of my orgasm pulled me under. I pushed Oliver onto his back and rutted against him as I grunted out a release that seemed to go on and on without end. When it finally ended, I collapsed down onto him and hoped my kiss conveyed the words I wasn’t brave enough to say.
It was only when I was nearly on the verge of sleep that I realized he still hadn’t answered my question.
15
Oliver
Dimly, I became aware of the sound of voices that didn’t belong in my dream. A dream in which Elijah and I were hiking through the woods behind my dad’s house. Dream me glanced briefly around the trail, seeking out the approaching hikers, but came up empty. Suddenly, I was nudged from behind, causing me to stumble over a rock in the path, but before I could face plant in the dirt, I jolted awake.
And then immediately jolted into full consciousness.
Elijah was curled around my body, big spoon to little spoon style, his hard, morning erection jutting into my ass cheek. And the voices I’d heard on the “trail” were, in fact, coming from right outside my door.
“He must be in the gym,” I heard Matty say to someone.
“Hmm, could be,” Brett answered, his voice sounding somewhat skeptical to my ears as I strained to listen in on their conversation. “I hate to say it, man, but maybe you should learn how to cook your own breakfast.”
“That’s just it, though,” Matty replied. “I was going to ask Elijah to teach me how to make those hash browns. They’re even better than my grandma’s.”
“Come on,” I heard Brett say, their voices becoming muted as I assumed they ventured away from our bedrooms. “I’ll teach you the basics, and then you can ask him to walk you through the rest.”
When it had gone quiet outside my door, I flipped over onto my other side to find Elijah awake and staring at me with wide, startled eyes. “They’re gone,” I whispered, mere inches separating us.
If my brain had been functioning correctly, I might have had the foresight to be worried about morning breath, but the only thought running through my head right then was that we’d almost been caught. What if Matty had knocked on my door wanting to know if I’d seen Elijah? The idea of him quickly rolling off the bed to hunker down out of sight made me slightly nauseated. There was hiding our relationship, and then there was outright denying it. I liked to think I’d be man enough to acknowledge my feelings for him if—and when—push came to shove, but who was to say how either of us would have reacted in the moment? While I had every intention of being out with him once we left here, we hadn’t actually gotten around to discussing what would happen if we were caught. If I were being honest, there was a lot we hadn’t gotten around to discussing yet, and we were quickly running out of time to do it.