To Live Again (4 page)

The tattoos abruptly curved downward below his navel, and like runway lights, led me right toward his fully erect cock. So I followed them. All the way. And the lower I went, the more he cursed under his breath as his abs quivered beneath my lips. By the time I’d reached his cock, I was too turned on by his moans to be self-conscious about my lack of experience.

Here goes…

I steadied him with my thumb and forefinger around the base, and ran my tongue around the head. He pulled in a sharp hiss, so I did it again. Slowly, I worked up the nerve and took him between my lips. First just the head, then more, until I was dangerously close to testing my gag reflex.

“D-don’t have to go so deep,” he panted. “Use…use your hand.”

Right. I always loved that. In fact…why was I so worried about how to do this? I knew what
I
liked.

Quit overthinking this and do
that
.

So I stroked him exactly the way I liked it—my grip just loose enough to create the perfect friction—and teased the head of his cock with my lips and tongue.

“Oh yeah.” He groaned, his hips squirming beneath me. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Relief and arousal both rushed through my veins. He liked it? God, yes. He liked it. So I tried other things I’d enjoyed. I fluttered the tip of my tongue against the soft skin of his balls, and his throaty groan nearly made me come unglued. Then I teased his balls with my fingertips while I licked and sucked the head of his cock, and he arched off the bed. His fingers gripped my hair, twitched in my hair, pulled my hair enough to make my scalp burn and my dick unbearably hard.

“God, this feels good,” he murmured. “You don’t know how bad…how bad I wanna fuck you.”

Oh Jesus.

“When you’re ready for it…” He tensed, sucking in a sharp breath as his cock got even harder between my lips. “When you’re ready for it, I will pound you into the goddamned mattress.”

Please do. Please, please, please—

“Gonna make me come,” he moaned. “You can…stop if you…
fuck
…”

Stop? Not a chance. The thought of him coming in my mouth didn’t worry me now. It turned me on. Turned me on like crazy.

I didn’t stop. Sailo’s cock got even harder, even thicker, and the faint taste of salt met my tongue, so I tightened my grip and quickened my strokes, and his whole body seemed to tense as a low, throaty groan faded into a helpless whimper.

“C-coming,” he breathed. “I’m…oh, God…”

And just like that, hot liquid rushed across my tongue and the roof of my mouth. I immediately swallowed it before it could hit the back of my throat, and had to swallow again before he moaned and relaxed. If he was anything like me, he was about to go from coming to extremely—and uncomfortably—hypersensitive, so I let him go.

I pushed myself up on my arms, and Sailo grabbed, dragged me down on top of him, and—despite the fact that he’d just come in my mouth—kissed me. Before we’d even landed back on the pillow, his fingers were around my dick. And they were slippery. Coated in lube. Where had it come from? Oh who cared, because his slick strokes felt amazing. My body once again had a mind of its own, and my hips were suddenly thrusting against him, fucking into his hand. Breaking the kiss, I exhaled, my lips grazing his, and then he grabbed the back of my head and kissed me again.

He pumped my cock as we kissed breathlessly, and apparently my body forgot that I’d already come once tonight because I was heading there again, faster and faster with every stroke. I thrust harder, and he gripped me tighter.

“You gonna come again?” he murmured against my lips. “You gonna—”

“If you keep doing that.” I squeezed my eyes shut, breaking the kiss and tilting my head back as I fucked against him for all I was worth.

“Oh yeah,” he groaned as if he were the one falling to pieces. “
Come
, Greg.”

I looked down at him and met his gaze. There was a wild gleam in his eyes, an intense, focused hunger, and—

“
Shit!
” I thrust once more, and shuddered violently, and Sailo kept stroking me as I came on his hand and his stomach and his chest.

The world spun. I might’ve even blacked out for a second. One instant, I was crying out and coming, the next, I was slumped over him.

He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my cheek but didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. I just held myself up on shaking arms, squeezed my eyes shut, and breathed.

Well. That answered that question.

I am definitely
not
just bi-curious.

Chapter Six

After we’d cleaned ourselves off, Sailo pulled the sheet up to our waists. For the longest time, we lay there, loosely wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing lazily. I had actually forgotten what it felt like to make out like this after sex—it had been way too long since an orgasm had been a precursor to anything besides rolling over and going to sleep.

Eventually, we pulled apart enough to see each other. We were on our sides, fingers laced together between us. This was so perfect and blissful, I could
almost
pretend we weren’t a couple of complete strangers who’d picked each other up in a bar.

“So,” he said with a sleepy grin. “Your first time with a man wasn’t disappointing, I hope?”

“Not at all. I mean, I can’t remember the last time I came twice in one night.” I laughed, and swore I sounded drunk. “Thought I was too old for that.”

He arched an eyebrow. “How old is too old?”

“Is that a tactful way of asking how old I am?”

He shrugged. “Not sure how tactful it was, but okay.”

I chuckled. “I’m forty-seven.”

Sailo blinked. “No shit?”

“Yep.”

“Wow. I figured you just had a few years on me.”

I gestured at my hair. “With this much gray?”

He laughed. “Could’ve grayed young.”

“Well, I did raise three kids.”

“That explains it.” He pointed at his own hair, which now that I looked more closely, had a few flecks of white here and there. “My boy is already turning me gray.”

“I didn’t realize you were a dad.”

He smiled. “Yeah. My son is six.”

Six. Holy shit.

“What?” He cocked his head. “You’re not weirded out by sleeping with another dad, are you?”

“No, no. It’s not that.” I laughed. “It’s the fact that my granddaughter is the same age as your son.”

“No way.” His jaw dropped. “You’ve got
grandkids
?”

“One grandkid,” I corrected. “And to be fair, I started young, and my daughter started even younger.”

“You don’t say. How old are your kids?”

“Eighteen, twenty-one, and twenty-three.”

“Wow.”

I studied him, trying to add up the faint lines in his skin and the little bit of gray in his hair. “At the risk of being impolite, how old are you?”

“Thirty-seven.” He chuckled. “I, um, started a bit later than you with the whole kid thing.”

“Smart.”

“Eh, maybe.” He shrugged, rolling onto his back. “I had my shit together when he came along, but sometimes I think it would’ve been easier when I was younger and had more energy.”

“And sometimes I think it would’ve been easier when I was a little older and had a bit more experience.” I propped myself up on my elbow, resting my other hand on his tattooed chest. “Not to mention money.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Jesus. We’re already talking about our kids. Isn’t this kind of a breach of one-night-stand protocol?”

Sailo burst out laughing. “Yeah, probably.” He slid his fingers between mine on his chest. “But we were already talking about meeting up again.” He winked. “You know, so I could fuck you.”

I gulped. “You were serious about that?”

He sobered slightly. “Were you?”

“I’m sure as hell not going to say no.” I moistened my lips. “This is all new to me, but now that I have the chance, I want to try everything.”

“Well.” He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed my palm. “With the way you kiss and the way you suck dick, you’re not going to have to twist my arm to hook up again.”

“In that case”—I grinned—“don’t let me leave without your number.”

“Oh, I won’t.” He let go of my hand and reached for my neck. Drawing me down to him, he added, “And I want yours too.”

He definitely wouldn’t have to twist my arm…

* * * * *

My alarm went off way, way too early. At least I didn’t have to be at work at five in the morning like the machinists, but still… Fuck this shit.

Bleary-eyed and cursing, I picked up my phone to turn off the alarm, and my heart skipped.

It wasn’t my usual alarm. Today was Sunday, after all. No, I’d set myself a reminder. One I’d programmed in on the day I’d bought the phone.

Anniversary.

I swallowed. Twenty-five years ago today, I’d said, “I do” to the future mother of my children. And less than twelve hours ago, I’d said, “Yes, please” to the man who’d spend half the night turning me inside out.

A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have believed anyone who’d said this was where I’d be now, and now that I was here, I felt…

Nothing.

Which was weird. It was my wedding anniversary, after all. Our silver anniversary. Something I’d had every intention of commemorating with an expensive dinner, that bracelet she’d been eyeing for the last couple of years, maybe a trip somewhere. We’d exchange gifts and cards. The kids would call. Becky and I might’ve even had sex for once.

But now, on the morning of that milestone anniversary, I was lying in the guest room of a friend’s house, counting twinges and hoping I had a shot at another night with the man I’d just met. He’d driven me back here last night, kissed me in the car and given me his number, but did that mean anything would actually happen if I got in touch with him again? No idea. But I sure hoped so.

Eyes closed, I smiled. My brain kept rewinding last night, and over and over I saw myself leaning against that wall in the VIP lounge with my cock down Sailo’s throat. Or stripping each other down as we made out in his bed. Or the way he’d grinned up at me as he’d made me come for the second time.

Against my will, my mind wandered to a more sobering set of thoughts—the sex life I’d had until recently. Before last night, I hadn’t realized what sex had become in my marriage. It wasn’t a chore, or something we didn’t enjoy, but we approached it with the same enthusiasm as watching TV in the evenings. It had become a way to unwind after a long day. An orgasm apiece so we could sleep, but no real enthusiasm anymore.

“We haven’t done anything in a while. You want to?”

“Ah, hell. There’s nothing on TV. Why not?”

Okay, so the conversations weren’t really that dull, but the sentiment was. And if I was honest with myself, so was the sex. Not because she was a woman. Not because I was more interested in a man. No, it was because we’d both stopped caring enough to put in the effort.

That thought made me sad, but it also settled something in me. Maybe Becky was right. Maybe our marriage
had
run its course, and it
was
time to move on.

And with that uplifting thought, I wasn’t going back to sleep, so I sat up. Aching from head to toe, I felt like a much older man than I was, but couldn’t help grinning as those twinges swung my thoughts back to last night instead of my past life. Well, if it was time to move on, I could definitely think of worse ways to do it.

I rolled to my feet. Stretched. Creaked. Gingerly rubbing my lower back, I shuffled into the bathroom for a shower.

By the time I’d dried off, I felt somewhat closer to human. Coffee would help. And either I was hallucinating, or I could smell some coffee coming from the kitchen. So, I followed the scent down the hall.

When I stepped into the kitchen, Ethan was at the island, the same place where they’d decided last night to take me to Wilde’s. He was in shorts and a T-shirt, his face unshaven and his dark hair slightly ruffled as he nursed a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning.” Ethan watched me for a moment, then lifted his eyebrows. “Good night?”

“Hmm?”

“Come on.” He chuckled. “You’re walking kind of stiff, and we did leave you at Wilde’s to meet up with that deejay. Plus I heard you come in this morning.”

“Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you guys up.”

“It’s fine.” He gestured dismissively. “I normally sleep through anything, but I happened to be awake right then anyway.”

“Really? At that hour?”

With sheepish grin, he said, “Well, we hadn’t actually gone to sleep yet, so…”

I laughed. “And here I was trying to be all quiet and sneaky on my way in.”

“It’s the thought that counts.”

“Right. So where’s Rhett?”

He pointed at the floor above us. “Still sleeping.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Those late nights are rough on a man his age.”

“Um, aren’t you older than—”

“Shh, shh.” He waved his hand. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Sure it is.”

Ethan flipped me the bird, then gestured at the coffeepot. “There’s plenty left if you want some.”

“God, yes.” I took a mug down from the cabinet. It felt weird to be this familiar in their house, but they’d insisted,
mi casa, su casa
. After I’d poured myself some, I took a seat at the island.

“I’m gonna give Rhett another hour or so,” Ethan said. “Then I’ll make some bacon and eggs. You want any?”

“Sure, that sounds great.” I carefully sipped my piping-hot coffee. “This is what I need right now, though.”

“You and me both.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping in?”

“I would,” he muttered into his cup, “but then I’ll fuck up my sleep pattern and won’t be able to get up for work tomorrow.”

“Ugh, yeah. I get that. After last night, I could’ve slept till this afternoon, but I’d pay for it all week.”

“Mmhmm.” He paused. “You had a good night, right?” His tone was playful, but the lift of his eyebrows suggested he really was concerned.

“Yeah, it was…well…” I coughed into my fist. “I definitely don’t have any doubts left about being attracted to men.”

“Oh really?” He grinned. “That deejay, eh?”

“Yep.” I sighed, rolling my stiff shoulders. “And Jesus…it was amazing. Best I’ve felt in the last three weeks, that’s for sure.”

“If that grin’s anything to go by, I’d wager it’s the best you’ve felt in longer than that.”

I wanted to argue, to insist that I’d been perfectly happy up until three weeks ago, but he was right. “Well, I’ll take what I can get these days.” I thumbed the handle on my coffee cup, replaying last night and adding it on to the timeline of the past three weeks. When had my life become this surreal roller coaster of
wow, did not see that one coming
?

Ethan tilted his head. “You okay? You seem like you had a good time, but…not.”

“No, I did. It was great. But it, um, definitely drove home how inexperienced I am with men.”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “We’ve all been there. The learning curve isn’t as bad as you think.”

“That’s encouraging.” I rested my elbow on the counter and idly ran my finger back and forth along my lower lip. “It is, um, pretty new territory, though.”

“Yeah, but it seems more intimidating than it actually is.”

“For you, maybe. I guess, um…” I cleared my throat. “There are some things I’m less sure about than others. Like…well… Okay, at the risk of sounding like a total idiot…”

Ethan watched me for a moment. Then he chuckled. “No, bottoming doesn’t have to hurt.”

I blinked. “Huh? What? How did you—”

He patted my arm. “I’ve seen that look before.”

“What look?”

“The one that says ‘I was with a guy last night, I’m curious about doing more with him, but I’m scared out of my mind.’” He inclined his head. “Am I close?”

“Uh. Yeah. Actually.” I shook myself. “How the hell did you know?”

He laughed. “Trust me—you’re not the first who’s wanted to have that conversation. And I had it myself a long time ago. Seems like any guy I’ve ever talked to who’s just starting out with men, that’s the first thing they’re worried about.”

“Was it something you were worried about?”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “That and what it would be like when a guy blew his load in my mouth, but at least I was pretty sure that wouldn’t hurt.”

No, no, it would not. It did not. God, that was hot…

I shifted, suppressing a pleasant shudder just so he wouldn’t notice. “I think I’d have felt a bit less insecure having this conversation as a clueless twenty-something than…well…now.”

Ethan waved his hand. “No reason to be insecure. A lot of guys go all the way through life without ever having the chance or the self-awareness to even have this discussion. Or they go through any of the motions we’re talking about. You’re further ahead of the curve than you realize.”

“Sad, isn’t it? That so many people never figure it out?”

“Well. Here’s to today’s generation. They’re light years ahead of ours.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” I leaned back in my chair. “So, when you say bottoming doesn’t
have
to hurt, what exactly does that mean? I mean, I’ve done it with Becky before, and she loved it. So obviously it isn’t always painful. Or is it and she just liked that?”

“No, it’s not painful. If the top knows what the hell he’s doing, it won’t hurt at all.” He quirked his lips. “Unless you
want
it to, I mean.”

“Beg pardon?”

He chuckled and gestured dismissively. “It’s really easy to make it completely painless. There are things you can do beforehand to make it easier. Things you should do anyway, but…” He waved a hand again. “Anyway, make friends with toys and lube, and by the time you’re ready for him to top you, you’ll be good to go.”

“Make friends with them?” I laughed. “Interesting way to put it.”

“Trust me. They are your friends if you want to have anal and enjoy it.” He pointed in the general direction of the rest of Capitol Hill. “Check out The Oh Zone on Broadway. There are a couple of places on Pike too.”

“Do you recommend any in particular?”

He seemed to mull it over for a moment. “You can’t go wrong with The Oh Zone. There’s Heat over on Pike, and I think Devil of Lace is still open.” He wrinkled his nose. “Just don’t bother with The Black Curtain.”

“Why’s that?”

“They’re…” He picked up his coffee. “Let’s just say the quality of their merchandise doesn’t match the prices. And besides, places like The Oh Zone and Heat, they know what they’re talking about. You have a question, I guarantee they can answer it.”

My cheeks burned just thinking about it. “My God. I can’t even imagine going in and asking some of the questions on my mind.”