Considering where things were at an hour ago, this evening has taken a delightful turn. I say, “We could work on that. Possibly. It doesn’t have to be pretend. We could take it slow and—” I yelp as big hands settle around me and pull me forward, arranging me until I’m straddling Gordo’s lap. I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that I’m wearing nothing underneath this robe as the fluffy material bunches up over Gordo’s massive legs. “Or not,” I say. “Slow is one option, but not the only choice. We can go as fast as you like.”
Which, if the way his mouth surges to meet mine, is pretty darn fast. Gordo is an excellent kisser, as it turns out. His lips are firm and demanding; his beard is soft and tickles at my chin. I whimper when his tongue pushes into my mouth and more when his fingers slide under my robe, running up my thigh.
“Oh Jesus, Gordo.” I groan as he kisses down my throat, forcing my head up. He’s so big. Like a pillar of muscle. I can lean into him and let my whole body go slack, and he’ll catch me. The only problem is, the more he touches me, the more he kisses me, the more I let myself get pulled into what he’s offering, it’s harder and harder to hide how . . . well . . . hard I’m getting, with only the fluff of the bathrobe to cover me.
“Gordo,” I say, “what do you want to do tonight? How far do you want to go? Maybe I should put some clothes on if we’re going to—”
But he drags my hand down between us and places it on his groin and—oh. Hello. Nice to see you again. I may already be wearing next to nothing, but Gordo’s erection is doing its best to bust through the seams of his designer pants, and that seems like a waste of good money.
“Need a little help?” I say, cupping him through the fabric. He makes an entirely un-Gordo-like noise, growling as he thrusts into my grip, his eyes full of caveman heat. “You sure? We don’t have to. We could just be boyfriends for a while. The benefits could happen—”
Once again, I’m manhandled—and oh my God, I think I’m going to love how this man handles me—until I’m lying down on the sofa with Gordo looming over me, braced on his arms. My robe has fallen open, and there’s no hiding how much I want this.
He says, “Bailey, I want us to be real. It’s been two years and that’s long enough. I want everything tonight.”
10
We must have forgotten to pull the blinds because the sun is super bright as it pours through the window the next morning. Damn deserts. Don’t they know I need my beauty rest? Especially after last night?
No, I’m screwing around. Let’s back up.
“I want everything.”
Gordo is bossy. Not with his words. After that final declaration, he says very little. But his hands, his mouth, even the way he breathes all make it pretty clear what he’s looking for, and I am only too happy to give it to him.
I wish I could say he rips his clothes off, buttons flying, but that would be a tragedy for a well-cut piece of cotton. Instead, he sits up on his heels and undoes each button, until the open shirt frames his fuzzy chest and broad, flat belly. He unrolls the sleeves, smoothing them down.
“Goodbye, buddies,” I say to his forearms. “I’ll see you soon.”
Gordo arches an eyebrow and laughs softly before pulling his shirt off and laying it gently on the coffee table. My legs are still trapped underneath him, but I push up onto my elbows, and he gives me ample room to sit up all the way. He’s so tall that my mouth basically comes up to the centre of his torso, and that’s good enough for me, as I plant kisses into his chest hair before moving to find his nipples.
He hisses when I drag my tongue over the first one. I glance up, and he’s watching me, silent like an oak. He grunts when I bite down gently, tugging with my teeth, but when I check again, his mouth has fallen open and he’s panting.
Good enough. I spend some time introducing myself to his other nipple while my hands get to know the rest of him. The muscled domes of his shoulders, the thick cords along his spine. He buries his fingers in my hair and lifts me up to kiss him, and I wonder why we’ve waited so long to do this.
He waits patiently when I start to undo his belt. My palms are unexpectedly shaky as I slip the leather through the loop. His pants fit him perfectly, and the outline of his erection is very clear in the material. When I pull down the zipper and push his pants over his hips, the very tip of him peeks out over the top of the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs.
“Jesus Christ, Gordo,” I say. He runs a hand across his groin, grasping himself. In his palm, his dick looks manageable. When I brush my hand over the back of his and he lets me take over, the size of this . . . um . . . undertaking becomes clearer.
But Gordo rumbles, sort of like the way I think a lion might purr as I work him gently, letting the material slide over him as he gets—oh fuck—even bigger, and the happy sound makes me want to please him. I can do this. I can do it for him.
Except then a thought occurs to me. “Shit, we don’t have any lube.” When I packed, it wasn’t the sort of thing I expected to need on this trip.
If only past me could see us now.
Gordo says, “I have lube. And condoms.”
I stare up at him with all the wonder of a child on Christmas morning. “You do?”
He reaches down to the pants that are hanging by his knees and fiddles until he finds the pocket. He pulls out a couple small packs of lube and some condoms.
Amazing. “You planned ahead?” Something about the idea that Gordo has been planning to seduce me since before we left makes this all that much more exciting.
“Called down to the front desk while you were in the shower.”
Well, that works too.
“You pressed zero and said ‘I need lube and condoms so I can fuck my roommate, even though he’s been completely oblivious to my sexuality and intentions for the last two years. Don’t mind me, I want him anyway’?”
Gordo shakes his head. “Not in so many words.”
No, I wouldn’t think so. Gordo would never be so frank.
But the details are important right now. I’m feeling greedy. “You’re going to fuck me, though, right? I mean, I’ll top if you want, but I really—”
He stops that question with a kiss that makes my head spin before he pushes me back down onto the sofa.
“Oh, I’m going to fuck you. Been wanting to for the longest time.”
My dick has slipped under a fold of the robe again, but it is doing its darndest to find the light. I bite my lip when Gordo pulls the tie loose. He spreads it open so my body is exposed. My erection pops up with a cheery hello, bobbing in greeting, and I clench just to make it do it again, and watch as Gordo’s face breaks out in a satisfied smile.
“Like what you see?” I ask.
“You’re so pretty, Bailey,” Gordo says. “Knew you would be.”
We’re going to have to get a sofa like this at home. I can tell already. Gordo stretches out on his belly, kissing down my stomach and along my thighs. His beard tickles and it makes me jump and laugh, but his hands hold me down with an easy strength that has me shaking. He bites little kisses along the insides of my thighs, and I nearly poke him in the eye as I try to get my dick in his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He takes me in one of his big hands and draws my tip along the flat of his pink tongue, and oh my God, as long as I live, I will never forget the image of Gordo, head between my legs, eyes on mine, as he slides me into the wet heat of his mouth.