Loving Bailey (6 page)

Bailey shuddered again, moaned into Ashton's
mouth. Smiling inside, Ashton let his fingers brush the sweet
crease, and thrust up, twisting his hips so that their cocks glided
together. A heady drum beat of lust tempered the rush of emotion
that flooded his system.

His cock caught on the rim of Bailey's. And
it was his turn to gasp as sweet pleasure spread through his limbs.
Catching on to his plan, Bailey pulled back from his lips and
murmured, "Do you have any lube? I prefer it wet."

"In the drawer," he muttered, arching again.
Sinewy muscle and crisp dark hair caressed his cock as it slid
along Bailey's. A tiny gleaming drop of pre-cum oozed from his
slit.

Bailey laughed and then held him in place
with one broad hand, while fumbling with the nightstand drawer.
"Hey! I need the lube, I get friction burns real easy."

The confidence made Ashton shudder. "Your
skin is that sensitive?"

"Oh yeah, I have to use lube even when I
jack off."

He assimilated the new information about his
lover, forming and discarding plans for exploring that sensitivity.
"Warm that before you apply it," he warned as Bailey spilled the
lube across his palm.

"Oh?" An eyebrow arched in demand.

"I don't like cold oil on my skin." He
wedged his hand between them and covered his cock, squeezing
lightly.

Bailey knelt up and smiled down at him.
"I'll warm the lube up before one drop touches you."

Ashton felt his jaw drop as Bailey knelt
over him, pelvis thrust forward, erect cock jutting upward in
demand. His mouth watered and his hole clenched in anticipation.
Maybe…he brushed the tempting thoughts aside. They'd wait for that
still. Meanwhile, there were sensual pleasures to be explored that
would further their intimacy.

He nearly whimpered as Bailey took his prick
in his slick palm and began stroking, arching his hips to thrust
his erection through the tight grip. He worked from base to tip,
squeezing the purple swollen head of his cock between his fingers
before jerking back to the base. The speed of Bailey's hand
scattered tiny drops of lube over Ashton's skin.

Low moans of pleasure erupted from swollen
lips as Bailey pleasured himself. Ashton stared, mesmerized. He
stroked his own cock urgently, occasionally tugging his balls down
or squeezing his base. His breath came fast and hard, his chest
heaved.

His movements slowly began to echo Bailey's
rhythms, stroke for stroke, breath for breath, moan for moan, their
pleasure built together.

Bailey's eyes flew open and he stared down
at Ashton. "It's hot now."

"Huh?" Comprehension was impossible. His
senses were drowned in the scent of sweat and man, his eyes
couldn't focus on anything beyond Bailey's face contorted in his
pleasure, his brows drawn together, lips parted, nostrils
flaring.

"The lube," he gritted out between panted
breaths, "is warm now."

The meaning was slow to sink in, but
fortunately, Bailey grunted and took matters out of Ashton's
confused hands.

He released his cock, lowered himself until
he once more rested between Ashton's wide spread thighs, and
thrust.

One hot, smooth glide of slick flesh against
his inflamed cock and something inside Ashton burst. He clutched at
Bailey's hips, and thrust up to meet his lover's downward stroke.
Heat and tension pooled in his groin, tightened his muscles.

Bailey's rough, guttural moans and labored
breaths spurred his own passion higher. His cock slid sensually
alongside Bailey's, rubbing against furred skin and silky cock,
swelling slowly, and hardening impossibly until he thought his skin
would split.

His balls drew up tight and hard, sensation
pooled at the base of his spine. He jerked, and a shot of cum burst
between them, slicking their bodies even more. Bailey groaned,
thrust back, grinding against him frantically until he froze, eyes
widening.

"Ash…going to now…" His eyes clamped shut,
he shuddered again. The earthy aroma of cum drenched the air as
they convulsed together a second time. Ashton dragged Bailey down
for another kiss, devouring his mouth with a deep unappeased
hunger.

"God, Bai, I love you so much." He tore his
mouth away and tried to catch his breath. Bailey rolled to the
side, chest heaving.

"Me too." He searched the area then climbed
from the bed with a groan. Ashton let his gaze dwell on tightly
flexing buttocks as Bailey strolled to the bathroom. A light
chuckle drifted back to him. "I can feel you watching me, you
know."

"I wasn't trying to be subtle," he
teased.

Bailey turned back and leered broadly.
"Good."

"Where are you rushing off to anyway?"

"Figured I'd run clean up this time. You can
take it next time." He disappeared into the bathroom, and Ashton
closed his eyes. Water ran in the sink. The toilet flushed.
Cabinets banged open and shut. Time passed.

"Hey!" he called out when it seemed that
Bailey had been gone longer than necessary to find a washcloth or a
towel and take a piss. "Did you fall in? Need some help?"

Chapter Eight

Bailey slumped on the closed lid of the
toilet, his head in his hands. He heard Ashton calling and made an
effort to get his breathing under control. The wave of emotion that
had hit him when he entered the bathroom shocked him.

They'd finally done it. Or some version of
it.

And he felt a compelling need to run out and
spill his guts even more than he had already this morning. His eyes
burned with tears he refused to shed, his throat was clogged with
words he would not speak.

Bailey rose and turned on the cold water,
dousing his face with the icy liquid to cool his skin and his
emotions. Calm. Remain calm. He added hot to the stream of water
and wet a cloth. Staring himself down in the mirror, he willed the
sheen away from his eyes, the blotchiness from his skin.

"Hey? Do I need to come in there?" Genuine
concern outstripped the teasing in Ashton's voice that time.

"No." He forced the word over the lump in
his throat, and swallowed against the pain of speaking. "Be right
there."

"Don't fuck this up," he warned the man in
the mirror. The man stared him down, eyes narrowing, then nodded.
Bailey pushed the whimsy away. He wouldn't fuck this up.

In the bedroom, Ashton had sat up in the bed
and was staring intently at the bathroom door. Bailey met his gaze
and forced a laugh. "Since you're up"—he tossed the warm cloth at
his lover. His lover…he could say that now. Instead of his
boyfriend—"I'm going to shower quick and make a shopping list.
We're a little out of time, but we can tackle at least one
project."

Ashton caught the rag adeptly and scrubbed
his groin and abs. Bailey followed the movements with his eyes,
licking his lips. He'd touched that skin, kissed it…

"Bailey."

From the touch of impatience, Ashton had
maybe had to call his name more than once. "Yeah?"

"Do you mind if we skip the project? I slept
longer than I planned and I have papers to grade."

He did kind of mind, because the paper
grading would mean that Ashton wouldn't want him around. "I was
hoping we could spend the afternoon together."

"We can. I'll pack up my stuff in my bag and
we can go wherever you want, do whatever, as long as I can get some
grading in."

It was better than sending him home, which
is what Ashton would have done before last night. That he couldn't
have borne. "I'll think of something in the shower."

And he did. In between reliving the magic of
Ashton's touch and groaning over his own semi-breakdown, he gave a
lot of thought to the afternoon and the future, and came to a
decision. When he left the bathroom, the bedroom was empty, and he
could hear Ashton moving around in the living area of the tiny
bungalow.

He pulled on his jeans and grabbed a shirt
from Ashton's drawer. The thin cotton tee was a little too tight
but at least it was clean. His flip flops were harder to find, but
eventually he located them under the chair where Ashton must have
kicked them.

As expected, Ashton was in the living room,
looking a little stressed as he sorted the flimsy blue books into
stacks on the coffee table.

"I have an idea." Bailey watched Ashton drag
in a breath and then look up from his exam booklets to meet his
gaze. "I can't help you with the grading. But I don't need to
distract you from getting your work done either. We have a lifetime
together. We don't need to spend this afternoon out anywhere."

The relief on his lover's face was almost
funny. "But we had plans." They both recognized how feeble and
shallow the protest was.

"I'm going to go shopping, pick up some
stuff for dinner and the stuff for the bathroom work. Then, I'm
going to swing by my dad's and grab some clothes, come back and
make you dinner while you grade your papers."

Ashton stared at him blankly.

"I promise, I won't be in the way. I'll just
entertain myself and let you get your work done." He hovered
uncertainly in the doorway, hoping Ashton didn't challenge him on
his intention to spend the day and night again.

"You want to just hang out here while I
work? That can't be any fun for you."

"That's okay, isn't it? I mean, if we're
going to be living together, we can't treat every moment like a
date. I'll be here while you're working, you'll be here while I'm
doing things. We'll be in the same house a lot of the time, that
doesn't mean you have to drop everything and entertain me. I'm not
a guest here, Ashton."

The thin figure relaxed and a broad smile
broke across his face. "No. You're not. This is your home, Bailey.
I'd love it if we just stayed in and did our own thing today. And
if you fixed dinner for me."

Lighthearted, Bailey felt like his feet
barely touched the ground as he crossed the room to press a kiss to
Ashton's cheek. "Awesome. I'll be back in a few hours. Anything in
particular you'd like to eat?"

"Your dad taught you to cook, too?"

"Some. Basic stuff anyway. But I'm sure that
if I can follow a blueprint to construct a house I can follow a
recipe to construct a meal."

He ignored the skeptical snort that followed
him into the kitchen and picked up his keys off the countertop. His
dad had been very thorough, and he knew just what to prepare to
impress his lover without stretching his skills.

***

Snick. Snick
. Slow and steady the
sharp blade slid through the fresh fruits one by one, creating
colorful piles of diced chunks on the marble-topped cutting board.
Bailey pinched a bit of mango between two fingers and popped the
juicy orange fruit in his mouth. It was sweet and tangy,
flawless.

The avocado was perfectly ripe. He'd had to
ask a produce department employee how to choose one that wouldn't
be too hard or too mushy. The end result was worth the
embarrassment though. Add diced purple onion and heirloom tomato,
cilantro leaves, a squeeze of lime juice, a dash of salt and
pepper, and give the whole lot a stir and he'd have his dad's
avocado salad for topping the grilled halibut.

Ashton was still grading his papers in the
front room, soft jazz piano music wafted from the iPod. Even though
the music wasn't the classic rock he'd grown up listening to or the
stuff his friends played, Bailey liked it. The gentle, sultry
sounds suited Ashton's personality, simple and elegant, bare bones
music that just reached in and touched his soul.

"That looks great."

"Fuck!" He jumped, the knife slipped, and he
actually saw the blood before he felt the pain of the cut.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have
startled you!" Ashton rounded the counter into the kitchen and
grabbed his hand to inspect the cut.

Finding his voice was immediately impossible
because Ashton's nearness overpowered his senses. He turned his
head and caught the concern in Ashton's face. His heart tripped on
a beat and he found his voice again. "It's okay, Ash. It's just a
little cut. I've gotten much worse on the jobsite."

Ash scowled at him. "Yeah, big tough
construction worker. It looks deep and that's a lot of blood."

Repressing the urge to roll his eyes, Bailey
leaned forward, crowding Ash into the counter with his hip. He
turned on the tap and ran cold water over his hand. "Just hand me a
bandage and all will be well."

Ashton flushed and stepped back quickly.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to be overbearing." Opening a drawer, he
retrieved a box of bandages. Bailey didn't know quite what to say
so he kept quiet as they cleaned up his injury.

Ashton covered the wound with a Band-Aid and
stepped away. He stared at the piles of chopped fruits and smiled,
but the expression looked far from natural. "So, I can finish this
since you're hurt. What is it?"

He'd hurt Ashton's feelings? That wasn't
acceptable. Stepping in close, Bailey wrapped his arms around his
lover's waist and tugged him back so he rested against him.

"It's a salad to go on top of the fish after
it's baked. I can get it though. Don't you need to grade your
essays?"

Ash turned to face him, bringing their
groins into contact. Bailey felt his blood heat at the suggestive
contact and hoped Ash wouldn't notice the stirring in his cock.

"I needed a break. I got a good chunk of
them done but they run together after a while. I came in here to
see if you needed help."

Bailey looked up into Ash's intense eyes. "I
have the cooking under control, I think."

"What are you making?"

"Baked halibut, the salad, and saffron rice.
Simple and easy. All I need to do right now is throw those into a
bowl with some lime juice and put it in the fridge. The fish needs
to marinate for another hour and a half before it goes under the
broiler."