And Call Me in the Morning (12 page)

“Not planning on it.” Eli found the tab of Zane's zipper and drew it down. He drew the edge of his thumb up and down the side of Zane's dick. Curiosity overcame the last of the shyness. “Let me see you.”

“Oh, fuck.” Zane abruptly pulled away and braced himself on his arms over Eli.

“Christ. What?” Eli tried to rise to his elbows. “You okay?”

Zane laughed, choppy and a little too excited. Ah. That told Eli all he needed to know. He lowered himself to the bed again, then on second thought inchwormed his way up higher until his head rested on the pillows. “Whatever you want,” he said and meant it, though making the offer turned him light-headed. “You've got the wheel, remember?”

“As if I could forget.” Zane surged over Eli and pressed his mouth to Eli's neck, kissing him hard. The first press of bare chest to bare chest made them both hiss, and the slick heat of tongue and teeth sent bolts of
want
to Eli's hardened dick. “Something I've been thinking about.”

“You never stop thinking,” Eli said, almost out of breath already, and wasn't that odd? Or not. “Tell me.”

“I'd rather show you.” Zane's hand drifted down to undo Eli's slacks and clumsily tried to nudge them off. Eli lent the man a hand, though the room temperature felt shockingly cold and brought goose bumps to his skin. He thought he knew where Zane was heading here.

And God, did he want it. “Really?” he asked, just to be sure.

Zane's eyes were fever bright. “One hundred percent,” he said. He kissed Eli, one rough press to his lips that almost stung, almost too hard and rough and lingering. “Say yes?”

“Fuck, yes,” Eli said, voice gone baritone with need, already strung out. He watched Zane crawl backward on the bed, not between his legs but to the side, tugging his slacks farther down.

Zane stopped then, staring. Eli wanted to squirm. Women didn't do this, stare as if they couldn't believe their eyes. He had nothing to be ashamed of in the size department. That didn't worry him.

“Fuck,” Zane breathed. He braced himself on the bed, and on Eli, and lowered his head. The fringes of his hair tickled Eli's stomach and hid what he was doing from view, but there was no mistaking the first tickling touch of a tongue to his cockhead, or the sudden, engulfing, wet warmth of an eager mouth.

Eli jackknifed up. “Oh,
fuck
!”

Zane pulled off. “What? Should I stop?”

“Hell, no.” Eli pressed his hands to his eyes. “Do that again.”

And Zane did.

“Ah—
God
. Zane.” Eli wanted to see. He fought between letting his eyes slam shut to feel it better in darkness and straining to keep them open, only Zane's damn hair was in the way.

Zane chuckled, sounding lower and more confident. All the stress in him had dissolved. The bad stress, at least. Eli could see a sheen of sweat on his back as the muscles flexed. He drew off with a wet sound, his lips tickling and his breath warm on Eli's dick. “Guess that means I'm doing it right.”

“Get back in there.” Eli reached down, trying to brush Zane's hair aside. He succeeded in haphazardly tucking it behind Zane's ear. Maybe that was better, maybe not, because when he was able to get a look at his cock sliding between Zane's lips—Christ, he was going to come, come hard, and they'd barely started. He ground his teeth and clenched his hands into fists in an effort to calm down.

As if that were remotely possible. Eli had known Zane was a smart man and that he learned quick, but
fuck
, who'd have thought he'd pick up on this quite so rapidly? It wasn't perfect, too much saliva and the occasional scrape of teeth, but Zane licked away the sting.

“Thought about this, huh?” Eli gasped. He'd never been quite so grateful that his bed's headboard had slats on it that let him reach up to grasp them and hang on.

“In detail.” Zane's hand left Eli's hip and disappeared between Eli's legs. His hair fell forward again, but Eli couldn't be bothered noticing or being annoyed because that was Zane's hand cupping his balls, balancing them gently and playing with the lightest of touches.

Might have figured Zane would pick up on his hot spots right away too. Eli swore and pushed at Zane. “Stop, fuck, stop. I'll come.”

“Want you to,” Zane murmured. He dipped his head.
Christ
, that was his tongue on Eli's balls, tracing figure eights. “Yeah. Thought about this a lot,” he said between shallow breaths and harsh swallowing sounds. “Sometimes even before.”

That hit Eli like a hammer between the eyes. They hadn't even—he hadn't thought—and Zane had—He groaned and gripped the headboard's slats tighter, their edges cutting into his fingers as Zane got back to business, wrapping a fist around Eli's cock and drawing what his fist didn't cover between his lips.

The sounds were messy and too loud. Eli jerked as his stomach muscles contracted. He held himself still with a mighty effort, wanting nothing more than to lift his hips and fuck Zane's mouth. Ride his face. An image filled his mind of coming on Zane's face, striping his pretty lips and cheeks with cum that'd roll down in heavy drops. That he'd lick off. Eli groaned with the effort not to move, but he felt his cock surge and fill impossibly tighter.

“Hair,” he said, grinding it out. “Tuck your fucking hair back and let me watch.”

Zane drew his tongue up the length of Eli's dick, teasing, then slowly, ever so slowly, tucked his hair firmly behind his ear. “I'll get a rubber band next time,” he said, keeping his hand moving.

“Shave your head.”

Zane laughed. “Not happening. I've got to rebel somehow.”

This isn't rebellious enough
? Eli didn't ask it out loud. He had other things crowding his mind and drowning his senses.
Now
he could watch properly, and the sight of his dick slipping in and out between Zane's lips was—God, he didn't have the words, only a growing tightness in his belly and in his balls.

He almost snorted when the random snatch of thought came to him:
If it's over fast, so what? We get to do it again whenever we want.
His toes curled, and he grunted, pushing up.

Zane took the thrust almost smoothly, only coughing once. He did pin Eli's hip down with the hand he wasn't using to brace himself. Maybe as punishment—though Eli wasn't about to complain—he slid down till his lips touched his hand and sucked, drawing his cheeks hollow enough that Eli could see the bulge of his cock inside.

Eli wanted to ask if Zane had practiced on bananas or something. No one could be this good without some prep work. God knew Eli was sure he wouldn't be. Fuck. He didn't care. What he wanted more was to get his hands on some of Zane. Or any part of him. He shifted his leg and found, with his knee, the hard fullness of Zane's cock. Not much contact as contact went but he could remind Zane, intimately, that it wasn't just Eli up for grabs here.

Zane spat out Eli's dick and arched his back. “Oh, God.”

“Turnabout's fair play,” Eli said, or meant to. It came out as a long groan, shuddering with amazement. So maybe he didn't know what he was doing. Playing it by ear seemed to be working just fine. He tugged awkwardly at Zane's slacks, working them down inch by inch. Had to stop every time Zane's head bobbed and wet heat engulfed him, and kept fumbling every time he looked down at his cock, so huge and fat. Had he ever been this hard? Looked fucking huge, rigid and rock solid and straining to come.

Zane drew off and began to work Eli with his hand and his hand alone, though he kept his face close enough to rub his cheek along the slick shaft. “Close,” he said, breathing shallow. He gave Eli's balls a quick, clumsy grope, licked them, licked Eli's cockhead. “No clue what I'm doing.”

“Could have fucking fooled me,” Eli managed.

Zane laughed. It was that, and the light that glinted in his eyes, and the slick twist of his wrist—who knew, but it was all too much, the roughness of his grasp and the rasp of his stubble against Eli's inner thigh and the surge his cock gave in Zane's hand. Eli couldn't hold it back—fought, but couldn't—and he was coming, just like he'd imagined, his cum striping Zane's face in creamy lines. Zane opened his mouth to catch some on his tongue.

He came back to himself with Zane's cock throbbing against his palm and Zane kissing him, the taste of his own cum thick and salty on Zane's tongue, Zane's lips bent in a broad grin even as he kissed Eli sloppy and eager.

“Not bad for a beginner, huh?”

Eli tried to remember how to breathe.

He knew he didn't have to reciprocate. He wanted to. Made all the difference in the world. Though his arms felt like rubber, and his legs no better, he pushed at Zane. “Get on your back,” he said, roughed out through the aftershocks of orgasm. “Now.”

Zane let himself be tipped over. Once arranged to Eli's liking, he indulged himself with a good long stare into those gray eyes, trying to say everything he couldn't out loud, and shoved harder, pressing Zane into the mattress.

Clumsily he managed to wriggle over Zane and to pull his legs wide apart. The slacks, still half on, got in his way. He hesitated, thought about pulling them all the way off, but was distracted by his first clear sight of Zane's cock. Good God. Had his looked like that to Zane? Dark, heavy, shadowed beneath where his balls hung tight and so full.

He had to touch. Slowly, curiously, Eli weighed them in his palm. He stopped abruptly when Zane groaned and jerked up, throwing his arm over his eyes, his breathing more panting than not. “Please,” Zane begged, and that was more than Eli could take, ever.

“Shh,” he soothed, stroking Zane's thighs. “I've got you. Just—don't expect this to be good.”

Zane's snort of amusement broke down the middle. “Eli,” he said, remarkably clear. “Have you ever had a
bad
blowjob?”

Good point, and be damned if Eli could be bothered. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and found his place. Let it happen.

Zane's cock didn't feel like what Eli had expected. He'd thought he'd be stunned by the texture or by the taste, that he'd flinch away automatically, but no, God no. He didn't taste like a woman, but it wasn't bad, just different. And the flesh felt like flesh, even if it jerked and strained upward when he bumped it with his lips, curious, testing.

The head slid over his tongue. Reflex made Eli swallow, made him draw in his cheeks. He'd have liked to say it was easy then, but there were teeth and a hiss of pain, a shambling “sorry,” and Zane's fingers scrabbling against his head to guide him. Zane shook like a tree in the wind beneath him, hanging on by a thread.

I did that. He's almost there because of me
. Be damned if that didn't make a man a little crazy. Eli drew his lips over his teeth and to hell with how silly he thought it looked, and sank as far down as he could go. Back up, messier than Zane, letting his tongue skate the length on upstroke and down, saliva dripping from his lips, then saliva mixed with precum. Zane moaned and tossed from side to side, his fists knotted in the comforter and his neck arched, his back arched, his skin shining with sweat. Eli slid a hand over Zane's stomach to hold him down and ground him.