Finding Eden (11 page)

It took some serious brainpower that early in the morning with no coffee to get the gears in his brain turning, but he did remember it was Monday. The fact Paul had managed to attend class was impressive, because Danny didn’t plan to do anything other than wash the sheets and lay around contemplating the sharp one-eighty his life had taken the night before.

It wasn’t until he got out of the shower that he realized they had left Paul’s truck back at Arty’s, which meant he had taken Danny’s car to school. Instead of getting pissed off about it, he saw it as an opportunity to really throw responsibility to the wind. Now well and truly stuck, he might as well get drunk. He walked naked and dripping to the kitchen and grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

True, those beers may have been there for the past few months. Danny had gotten Tony to pick up a case of them because he liked to harbor the idea he and Paul would get drunk together one night. But Paul was always doing something these days. He never had the time to get drunk and Danny was primarily a social drinker unless he was suffering from intense guilt, a wounded ego and a rug-burned dick. Then drinking alone wasn’t only acceptable, but necessary.

He decided it was the rug burn that had him drinking before noon instead of the stark realization the light of day brought. In his desperation to taste the divine, he had promised he would
hurt
Paul.

* * * * *

Paul didn’t know how Danny could complain about being broke when he drove a car like he did. A top-of-the-line Mercedes that’d been a present for graduation because his parents couldn’t believe he actually followed the rules long enough to pass the classes required to graduate.

His house may be rough around the edges, but Danny did take care of his car. It still had that new-car smell clinging to it almost two years later. It made Paul’s old truck look like a real piece of shit. He would have mourned having to turn the Benz over as he pulled into Danny’s yard if he didn’t have other things to look forward to.

Paul grabbed his duffle bag off the passenger seat and walked toward the house with the thought that Danny needed to work on his yard. It was drowning in leaves. He let himself in, not surprised to find Danny’s door open.

“Danny Boy,” he called out, toeing the door closed with his sneaker. “I’m letting myself in.”

Danny’s voice came from the living room. “Whatever.”

Paul frowned, shouldering his bag as he walked into the living room to find Danny sitting on the couch, a row of beer bottles lined up on the floor at his feet. Barefoot and bare-chested, Danny looked sexy, belligerent and drunk as he lifted dark eyes to Paul.

“Having a party?” Paul asked, tossing his duffle bag onto the floor, deliberately knocking over the beer bottles.

“Hey!” Danny shouted, leaping off the couch fast enough to tell Paul he wasn’t nearly as drunk as he should be. He fell to his knees and worked at fixing his bottles, lining them back up, the labels all turned the same direction, a frown marring his forehead as he worked to make them perfectly even. “You fucked ’em all up.”

Paul watched Danny fix the bottles with concern. He did weird, quirky things like this sometimes. In elementary school it was pencils, in high school it was cigarettes all lined across a table, all turned so the labeling on the filters was perfectly aligned. He did it with other things too, anything he could get a hold of that matched.

The one constant was Danny only got obsessively irate about it when something was really bothering him, otherwise he was a bit more diligent in hiding what was obviously a compulsive habit.

“What’s wrong?” Paul asked, staring down at Danny who was still kneeling over the beer bottles, arranging them so the labels faced out once more. “Did you drink all those beers just to have enough bottles to arrange?”

“No,” Danny said defensively, glancing up at Paul for a second before he admitted, “I dumped six or seven down the drain.”

“Right, because dumping perfectly good beer down the drain for the bottles makes total sense.” Paul dropped down next to Danny, sitting crossed-legged on the floor. “You’re upset about last night.”

Danny was silent, his work on the bottles becoming fidgety, minute turning of them to make the alignment exact. “I’m not upset about last night,” Danny finally whispered. “Last night was incredible.”

“Then what is it?”

Danny turned to him, his dark eyes, usually jaded and angry, reflected only pain and a huge dose of something Paul didn’t want to admit looked about as close to love as he’d seen since Eve left.

Danny sighed. “I dunno if I can be the man you want, Paul Guy. I wanna be, but I don’t think I can.”

Paul laughed. “Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t,” Danny growled, his voice becoming low in defensiveness. “I think I know what I’m capable of.”

“Obviously not.”

“What makes you a fucking expert?”

Paul huffed. “Look, you’re gay, right?”

“I’m not gay—totally,” Danny said, giving him another look of hesitance. “I do enjoy fucking girls, that was never bullshit. I just enjoy fucking guys too. I’m an equal-opportunity lover.”

“Okay, well, you fuck guys,” Paul went on, giving Danny an indulgent smile. “How do you know when another guy is gay?”

“I dunno, you just do.” Danny shrugged, turning his attention back to his bottles. “Sorta missed the mark with you.
Way off
on that.”

“And how do you know if someone’s a bottom?” Paul asked, trying his hardest to keep the anticipation out of his voice. “I mean, there have to be guys you look at and know they want you on top of them fucking them hard and fast.”

Danny did a double take, his voice becoming low and suspicious. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m having a conversation,” Paul said with a false look of confusion.

Danny’s eyes narrowed, but he answered anyway. “Then I dunno, Paul Guy, I guess spotting a bottom from a distance is part of my gay superpowers.”

Paul snorted, unable to resist laughing as he reached over and found the one unempty beer bottle. He took a long drink of it before he turned back to Danny. “It’s the same thing with this. If you’re a masochist or a submissive or both, you can usually spot a sadist from a mile away.”

“I’m not a sadist,” Danny said defiantly. “No way, it doesn’t get my dick hard.”

“You haven’t tried it,” Paul reminded him. “It might.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Danny said, giving Paul a pleading look. “Not tonight. I’m tired and sorta drunk and I just—”

“We can do something else,” Paul offered casually, taking another long drink of Danny’s beer, enjoying the game in a way he probably shouldn’t. Seduction was always a challenge, and he had an unfair advantage with knowing Danny as well as he did. It almost felt like cheating. “You may not be a sadist, but you are absolutely a Dom. No question, being in control gets you off. I know it does.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I
do
know that.” Paul gave a laugh of disbelief. “Give me a fucking break, Danny Boy. A real submissive is like a drug to natural tops like you. I could have you hard in ten seconds if I wanted to.”

“Fuck you,” Danny said with a snort of disbelief. “You wish.”

“I can prove it,” Paul said, dropping his voice on purpose. The look he gave Danny was softer, more compliant as he leaned closer to him to set down the beer. “Do you want me to?”

“You’re fucking with me.” Danny pulled back, lust flashing in his eyes before they narrowed in defensiveness. “This is a game to you.”

“Yes,” Paul assured him, giving Danny a seductive smile. “It’s a game. No losers, only winners. It’s fun. Wanna play?”

Danny swallowed hard, his eyes still narrowed as they ran over Paul. “I should say no.”

“Oh, you should,” Paul agreed, feeling wonderfully devious as he reached for the hem of his shirt and worked at pulling it over his head, being slow about revealing his stomach muscles, watching with a sense of satisfaction as Danny’s gaze started to follow his movements. “Say no, Danny Boy. That makes it fun. I like a challenge.”

“You’re a freak.”

“I know,” Paul said with a wide-eyed look of false innocence before he finally tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He leaned into Danny, licking his lips for one long moment before their eyes met. “Can I touch you?”

“Sure,” Danny sighed, his voice low and breathy, the tension falling out of his shoulders as he leaned back on his open palm.

Paul reached out, running his hand over Danny’s thigh before he cupped his cock through his jeans, rubbing his palm against the long length of it. “You’re hard.”

“Yup.” Danny lifted his eyebrows, not appearing too put out over his defeat. “You win. Happy?”

“Not yet.” Paul ran his hand over Danny’s stomach, his fingers tracing the outline of the muscles there as he gave him another soft look. His cock was hard too, his skin humming with arousal. The rasp of desire in his voice wasn’t an act as he looked at Danny longingly, falling victim to his own spell because Danny was just that compelling. “I wanna please you. Will you tell me how?”

Danny reached out to him, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of Paul’s neck and tugging him forward. Paul went with it, his eyes closing under the weight of his desire. He gave in to the moment and let Danny claim his lips in a hard, searing kiss. Danny’s tongue slid into his mouth as if he owned him and if Paul wasn’t hard and aching, desperate for more of what Danny had to offer, he would have laughed in his face.

Danny’s hand tightened in his hair, jerking his head back without warning. Paul groaned in response, arching into him obediently as he marveled at how good it felt to be with Danny, how desperately he could ache for him. It was as if the blinders to his vision had been lifted and he wanted to make up for every moment the two of them had missed. He had barely paid attention in class, he was too focused on Danny and an eager need to get back to the place he was right now.

He should have been shocked at himself for wanting Danny as badly as he did but after coming to terms with being not just a masochist, but a submissive as well, getting off on being with his best friend, who happened to be one of the most naturally dominant people he had ever come across, wasn’t that big of a deal.

Danny moaned as he pulled away, studying Paul’s face with stark hunger. “You’re so sexy.”

“Thank you,” Paul whispered, licking his lips slowly, longing for more.

“Will you jerk off for me?” Danny asked, his voice raspy against the curve of Paul’s neck when he leaned down to lick at the sensitive skin. “I wanna watch.”

Paul reached down to the button of his jeans, the fine art of slow seduction lost as he scrambled to do what Danny wanted. He shoved them past his hips as he fell onto his back on the hard floor. Pushing his underwear down, he fisted his hard cock and stroked it from root to tip. He hadn’t realized how sexually pent-up he was until that first stroke. His back arched and his eyes slammed closed as the pleasure washed over him.

It would feel good even if he wasn’t jerking off in front of Danny, but after replaying the previous night in his head all day, lying on the floor in front of him, jerking himself in an act of wanton abandon, had him groaning out loud from the surge of desire and pleasure he was giving himself.

“God,” Danny groaned

Paul’s head lolled to the side. He fought the pleasure and opened his eyes, seeing Danny staring at him, his chest rising and falling sharply with rapid pants of desperation. He looked wild right then, untamable, and undeniably sexual as his gaze met Paul’s, the stunned hunger shining in his dark eyes.

Paul couldn’t look away. Spellbound by the erotic power Danny wielded so effortlessly, a power he wasn’t even aware he had, Paul fucked his hand in strong, sure strokes as Danny watched. He wanted to stop time and stay in this moment forever, with the lust between the two of them choking the air out of the room and the exquisite torture of his building climax holding him just beyond oblivion.

But life was never that kind to him and he moaned, biting his lip and tasting the copper tang of blood as he fought against the throb of pleasure that felt too good to be denied. “I’m gonna come,” he admitted with a gasp of anguish. “I should’ve jerked off at school before I got here.”

“It’s okay,” Danny said, his voice low and compelling over the snap of the button. “You won’t come yet.”

“Been thinking about you—this—all day.” Paul groaned as he watched Danny lower his zipper, those dark eyes holding him captive once more. Several beer bottles fell over and rolled away when Danny crawled over him. Paul arched into Danny, desperate for contact even with the threat of pushing himself over the edge. “Fuck, Danny Boy. I need—”

“What’d you need?” Danny asked, straddling Paul’s hips as he pulled his own cock out of his underwear, stroking the thick length of it as Paul watched greedily. “You want me to fuck you again? Is that what you were thinking about in class?”

Paul nodded mutely, suddenly breathless. Anticipation coiled in his stomach, making the muscles clench as his eyes ran over Danny’s long, lithe form. The awe of wanting him as desperately as he did was still new and exciting, so much so he had to close his eyes once more against the image of Danny over him, dark and dominant, his scent a mixture of expensive cologne, cigarettes and man. The combination had his cock jerking in his hand in a way he would have never guessed before last night.

When Danny’s fingers threaded into Paul’s hair, tightening in the strands and forcing his head back roughly, Paul went with him, his body bowing submissively. Everything blurred under the weight of lust. He was actually quivering when Danny leaned down, biting his bottom lip, forcing Paul to release the tight hold his teeth had on it.

“Finish me,” Danny breathed into his mouth. “Do both of us.”

Paul moved beneath him, sliding down until their bodies were aligned. He arched up, fisting both their cocks, feeling everything in that moment, the scrape of old, dry wood against his bare back, the awkwardness of two pairs of jeans hanging low past their asses, the brush of underwear against his balls that were tight with the need for release. He felt it all, but he noticed only Danny, heard only his low groan as their cocks slid together in Paul’s hand.