“You’re right.”
And hopefully when I got home, Stellan would show me just how true those words were.
16
Stellan
Life sure had a way of throwing curveballs at me, and baseball wasn’t really my sport. Hell, I wasn’t athletic at all. And the biggest curveball of all was when I declared Foster as mine right there in Clancy’s bar, like some sort of possessive psycho. Yet, when I heard that man threatening to punch Foster in the face, the words ripped from my throat and I couldn’t hold them back. I was just grateful Foster hadn’t run away from me—like I probably would have done if the situation was reversed. Instead, his pupils expanded, his lips parted, and I could smell the pheromones emanating from his pores. The thought of me claiming him had turned him on, and I fucking loved it.
I hadn’t even planned to visit the bar that night, but after work, I was sitting at home and found myself missing him. Since he was busy, we couldn’t text, but even the quick messages wouldn’t be enough to satisfy my craving. I needed to see him, hear him, touch him. A few minutes later, I’d changed into a pair of jeans and a black, button-down shirt, and was in my car headed for Clancy’s. And since I noticed how he always put his hands in my hair, I made sure to wear it down for him.
Even though I knew we couldn’t spend much time together, it was fun to watch him work the bar and engage with customers. He was friendly but kept his flirting to a minimum, and I wondered if he did that out of respect for me. So what if I had to endure listening to the drunken guy beside me blubber on about his cheating ex? The stolen time in the break room with Foster more than made up for it, and it satisfied my craving just enough to hold me over until he got home. Now I just had to wait for Foster to clock out, and then he’d be back in my arms.
The last few hours passed slowly as I watched the TV, played my sax, and scrolled through social media. Anything to make the minutes tick by until I received the text he was home. I was too keyed up to nap, but who could sleep when they were awaiting something? It was like the night before Christmas, and I was too scared I’d miss seeing Santa if I dozed off. Only, for me, it wasn’t a fat man in a shiny red suit leaving presents under my tree. Instead, it was a wide-eyed, sandy-blond-haired man with tempting lips and a body made for me to explore. All I needed was the all-clear to go to him.
I found myself checking the clock too many times, convinced time had come to a standstill or was even going backward, but finally…fucking finally my phone vibrated. I nearly divebombed off the couch to snatch the device off the coffee table and sighed in relief when I saw it was a message from Foster telling me he was home. With delicious anticipation licking its way through my veins, I wasted no time getting to my car and heading toward Foster’s.
It would be the first time I’d see inside his place, and I was curious to see how he’d have it set up. I knew the apartments were small, but did he decorate it to make it feel like home or just keep out the bare minimum since it was a transitional type place until he was more financially stable? If the traffic lights were on my side, I’d be finding out even sooner.
With it being so late, or early depending on how you looked at it, there was barely any traffic on the roads. I arrived at Foster’s in record time and found the number to the unit he’d texted me. Fortunately, there was a space directly in front, right next to Foster’s car. It probably belonged to a neighbor, but I didn’t give a damn about them as I parked and jogged up to the building. I barely paid any attention to the pea green carpet, dim lighting, or rickety stairs as I looked for his door. And when I finally was standing outside it, I took a few breaths to calm myself. Pouncing on him as soon as he opened the door wasn’t how I needed to go about this. Whether he agreed or not, we needed to pace ourselves, not to mention discuss what had happened back at the bar when I turned into a Neanderthal and claimed he was mine.
I ran my hand through my hair, making sure it wasn’t too messy, and then gave two raps on the door with my knuckles. I heard a few locks twisting, something that made me feel a bit easier knowing he was safely inside, and then the door swung open.
There he was.
Something about baby steps was blinking like a neon sign in my brain, but I ignored it as something I could only describe as primal need coursed through my body. I stalked wordlessly inside his apartment without even being invited in, pulled him into my arms with a deep growl, and slammed my mouth against his.
Like the other times we kissed, Foster instantly responded as he wound his arms around my neck and plunged his fingers into my hair while my tongue plundered his mouth. Through my lust-filled fog, I remembered the door was wide open, so I kicked it closed before turning him around to back him into the wall. I swallowed his muffled moans as I pushed all my weight into him and ground my hips against his. His hard cock rubbed against mine, and all I could think as I sucked on his tongue and nipped on his lips was mine.
Baby steps, Stellan!
Fuck my brain, or at least the part that was trying to be logical. How could I think about baby steps or anything other than how good Foster felt against me? Or when his hands tentatively stroked down my back before brushing against my ass? Through the denim of my jeans I could feel the slight tremble in his fingers, as if he was too scared to touch me without permission. Even if I’d told him he could do whatever he wanted to me, he was still hesitant.
“Touch me, Foster,” I murmured against his lips before pushing my ass against his hands.
I sank my teeth into is bottom lip and stroked my hands under the black T-shirt he’d changed into as his fingers cupped the globes of my ass. His skin was warm and smooth against my fingers as I smoothed them up his chest, and his hands clenched as they pulled me tighter against him. At the first brush of my fingertips against his nipples, his entire body trembled as he gasped against my lips.
“Do you like that?” I growled before rubbing them again.
“I…yes,” he hissed when I rolled his nipples between my thumbs and fingers. His response had me yearning to replace my fingers with my lips and teeth, and my mouth salivated at the thought. “That feels so good.”
Something about what he said had a part of my brain clicking into place, and I slowly pulled away from him. My hands were still under his shirt with my fingers pinching his nipples while his dug into my ass. Our breaths were ragged and our lips swollen and glistening in the light from being thoroughly kissed. But this wasn’t right. Mauling him in the doorway might have been okay with someone else, but not for Foster.
Without even having to tell me, I knew. His response to me, his eagerness, his amazement and wonder over certain things were all the cues I needed. My gut instinct told me he’d never been taken care of sexually or been made to feel good. No one had taken the time to explore his body or teach him which areas were his most sensitive. No one had shown him what he was capable of or how much pleasure he could receive. No one until me. But rather than feel upset for Foster and how much he’d missed out on, I was thrilled at the idea of being the man to touch him where no one else had, and to be the one to show him what his body was made for.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, you did everything right. It’s me who was in the wrong, and I need to rectify that right now.”