“You like touching me, baby?”
“G-g-god, yes.”
“What else would you like to do to me?”
“C-c-can I m-make you c-c-come?”
Quentin moaned when Mac squeezed his cock again, down and up and down again, keeping perfect pressure on it. “Fuck, yes. Make me come, baby. Make me come so fucking hard.”
He didn’t need any more motivation but ramped up his strokes. Quentin bucked against him. He was fucking into Mac’s hand now, lifting his hips and seeking more friction.
“Oh, fuck…harder, Mac, please…”
He liked it rough, Mac remembered. So he found Quentin’s nipple, plucked it, then rolled it between his thumb and index finger. He did the same to his left nipple. He kept jerking him off, squeezing that perfect cock hard and fast.
“Ungh!” Quentin groaned. “Ohfuckohfuckohfuck…coming. I’m…Oh!”
His cock pulsed in Mac’s hands, spilling his load. Mac held Quentin’s body as he trembled with the second pulse, then went slack. Mac pressed kisses on his head, his ears, his neck, anywhere he could reach with his lips.
“That was…yeah. Pretty damn perfect, baby.”
“I’m s-s-sorry I d-d-didn’t s-suck at it,” Mac finally released the joke he’d been keeping in all that time.
It took a second before it landed, but then Quentin burst out in laughter. “That’s fucking perfect. You thought of that minutes ago, didn’t you?”
Mac grinned. “I d-d-did. Was w-waiting for the right m-moment.”
Quentin pushed against Mac’s arms and legs, and he untangled himself. He turned around, then sat on his knees in the bathtub, facing Mac. His smile transitioned into a burning look that shot straight to Mac’s balls. “I want to make you come too, but not here. Wanna continue this on the couch, where it’s nice and warm?”
10
Quentin didn’t know what he wanted to do: kiss Mac silly, explore that fucking perfect body of his, or suck him off. Maybe he could do all three? He climbed out of the tub, strangely touched when Mac wrapped a fluffy towel around him first before grabbing one for himself. This man was such a caretaker, a nurturer. He was everything Quentin had ever wanted in a man…except for his body type.
No, strike that. Mac’s body was hot as fuck, and just watching him made Quentin horny as all get-out despite his recent orgasm. It was more the fact that a man like him, a man that size, usually wouldn’t…submit. Though truth be told, so far, Mac seemed more than okay with Quentin taking the lead, but maybe that was because he was so new at this? Surely once he was past that stage of figuring out which tab went into which slot, he’d conclude out he was the tab…not the slot.
Did that mean he shouldn’t even try? No. Right now, even a few days with Mac were preferable over nothing at all. Being with him made Quentin strangely happy. Content, for lack of a better word. The way Mac cooked for him and took care of him brought a kind of peace to his soul he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Q-q-quentin…” Mac said softly.
Quentin’s head came up.
“D-d-did you ch-change your mind?”
“Fuck, no. Just lost in my head for a sec.”
“You l-l-looked sad.”
There was so much he could say to that, so much he should say, maybe. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he closed the distance between them, grabbed Mac’s head, and pulled him down for a kiss. He loved how Mac let him manhandle him, even though he could easily resist. So he took Mac’s mouth and kissed him deeply.
Mac’s hands stayed on Quentin’s shoulders, which was absolutely not where he wanted them. Nope, they belonged on his ass, pushing their bodies closer together. He unhooked his towel, then did the same to Mac’s. Mac groaned into his mouth as his hard cock sprung free.
“Your hands…on my ass…” he panted between kisses. When Mac didn’t respond fast enough, he took his hands and placed them right where he wanted them. That reminded him that he hadn’t touched Mac’s bare ass yet, so he lowered his hands there, and holy cow, his ass was full and firm and fit perfectly in Quentin’s hands.
When he squeezed again, Mac jerked, rutting his cock against Quentin’s belly, smearing precum all over him. How would he respond if Quentin…? Only one way to find out. He removed his right hand from that luscious globe, then let it dip into Mac’s crack from the top till he reached…
Mac moaned loudly and gave another jerk with his hips, then spread his legs farther. Now, that was interesting. Quentin repeated his move, his reward another low groan. Mac was rather sensitive there, wasn’t he?
Fuck, he wished he had lube. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to bring any. He’d never been the one-night-stand guy, and he’d figured that if he met someone, he’d simply buy it. Who the fuck would have predicted he’d get stuck in a snowstorm with the hottest guy ever? He couldn’t go too far without lube, though, not with an anal virgin like Mac—at least, Quentin assumed he was.
He swiped his hole again, slightly pressing with his thumb, and Mac shivered. Quentin bit the man’s lower lip, slowly pulled it out, then let go. “You like that, baby? You like it when I play with your hole?”
Mac’s response was a quivering, “S-s-so g-good. M-more…” that made Quentin’s insides go liquid. Something about that big man begging got to him, every single time. He was about to propose moving into the living room, since he was getting chilly, when Mac’s phone rang.
Quentin wasn’t expecting him to answer it, so he was surprised when Mac immediately released him. “I h-h-have to g-get this,” he simply said, and with one regret-filled look at Quentin, he walked over to his jeans and grabbed his phone.
For a second, Quentin was distracted by his ass and the cock jutting out, but then he frowned. Why the hell was Mac picking up his phone while they were making out? Something was seriously wrong with his priorities, dammit.
Mac answered the call with a grunt, then listened. “N-n-not t-till it s-stops s-s-snowing,” he finally said.
Who the hell was calling him right now, and why was Mac so nervous he was tripping over every word? His mood gone, Quentin got dressed. He didn’t miss the disappointed expression in Mac’s eyes but ignored it. If Mac had wanted to continue, he shouldn’t have picked up. Apparently, it meant a whole lot less to him than it did to Quentin because there was no way he would’ve picked up. That was what voicemail was for. He didn’t look back as he stalked into the living room.
When Mac came into the room as well a little later, he refused to face him, instead pretending to study the books in his self-help section.
“I h-h-have to g-go.”
Now he did turn around. “You what? You can’t go out now, not in this weather.”
“It s-stopped snowing.”
“But we’re…it’s…” Quentin sputtered.
Mac’s face tightened. “P-p-please, Qu-quentin, don’t b-be angry with m-m-me. I c-can exp-p-plain everything but n-not now.”
Something in Mac’s face told Quentin he was telling the truth and that he regretted leaving as much as Quentin did. It made him feel like an ass for jumping to conclusions again.