Too Soon For Love (22 page)

Patrick had a nice body. Slender and pale and nearly hairless except for a sparse trail bisecting his flat belly and leading down to a thick swatch of curls at the base of his cock. The cock itself was long and slender, curving up toward his navel and ending in a mushroom-shaped head that glistened wetly at the tip.

“I want to suck you,” Alan murmured against Patrick’s mouth.

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“Sixty-nine,” Patrick suggested, already squirming around to position his face at Alan’s crotch.

Alan buried his nose against Patrick’s balls and inhaled. The scent was intoxicating, light sweat, aroused male and just the hint of soap from an earlier shower. He drew the sac into his mouth and sucked, moving the balls around with his tongue. He closed his eyes and hummed with pleasure as Patrick swallowed his dick to the root.

Releasing the other man’s balls, Alan trailed his tongue up Patrick’s shaft then slid his lips over the head. Patrick’s hips shifted and he groaned sending a delicious vibration down into Alan’s balls. His dick slid down Alan’s throat and Alan swallowed around it before backing off and beginning to move his head.

He enjoyed sucking cock, and Patrick had a lovely one. Alan prided himself on his skill, taking both time and care to give his partner a memorable blow-job.

But Patrick was no slouch in the head department either, and before long they were both moaning and thrusting with little care for either skill or finesse.

When Patrick slid two wet fingers into Alan’s ass and nudged his gland, Alan lost all sense of rhythm or decorum. He shoved his dick into the other man’s mouth as the orgasm fired at the base of his spine.

“Patrick,” he gasped. “Coming.”

But when he tried to pull out, Patrick held him where he was, taking him deep and sucking harder than ever.

Alan came, spilling down Patrick’s throat. But before he had recovered enough to resume his sucking, Patrick pulled away.

“Let me fuck you, Alan. Get up on your knees while I grab some supplies.”

Still shaky from his orgasm, Alan complied. Resting his head on his folded arms, he waited, ass in the air, and listened to the sound of a drawer opening then closing. He heard the tearing of a condom packet followed by the squelching of lube being too soon FoR Love
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squeezed from a bottle. Cool, wet fingers stroked over and around his hole. First one then two then three slipped inside, stretching him.

Alan closed his eyes. Unbidden an image of Michael’s face appeared behind his lids, the way he’d looked when he got Alan ready the night they’d made love after Alan had found Michael by the side of the road. The darkly intense expression, the slight frown of concentration as Michael prepared him for fucking.

Much as Patrick was doing now.

Patrick. He was with Patrick, not Michael. And it was wrong to think about one guy while you had another guy’s fingers up your ass.

The mattress shifted and Alan turned his head and glanced over his shoulder in time to see Patrick crawling up behind him.

He felt the head of Patrick’s sheathed cock press against his entrance. Alan’s dick twitched and began to fill once again. He closed his eyes.

And there was Michael again, leaning over him, his cockhead positioned to take Alan with the next press of his hips.

Patrick leaned over Alan’s back, his breath wafted warm against the back of his neck. “You are so hot, Alan. I swear, I wanted to fuck you the first time I saw you.”

“Then fuck me now,” Alan said, banishing Michael Stricker from his thoughts and concentrating on the man whose cock was about to push inside him.

“Your wish is my command.” Patrick pressed forward.

The head popped through and Alan hissed out a breath at the deliciously welcome sting and stretch as Patrick’s dick filled him.

This was what he needed to clear his head of Michael Stricker.

A kiss just couldn’t do it.

The penetration seemed to go on and on. Alan savored each moment, every inch bringing him more and more pleasure. His dick was now fully hard again and he pushed back, taking Patrick’s cock all the way inside him.

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Patrick paused, his pubes prickly against Alan’s ass, his chest resting on Alan’s back. “God, Alan, you feel good. So tight. Your ass is squeezing the cum right out of me. Let me know when I can move.”

“Now. Do it now.” Alan braced himself as Patrick pulled back, leaving just the head inside him. He drove in again slowly, relentlessly, dragging his cockhead across Alan’s gland, making him see stars.

This was perfect. Patrick was perfect. Smart and funny, hot and sexy and he knew how to fuck just the way Alan liked. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

Unless it was Michael fucking him.

Determined to end all thought, Alan pushed up on all fours.

He met Patrick’s thrusts with equal force, skin slapped against skin, sweat slicked their bodies. Alan’s breath came in pants and gasps while Patrick grunted as he drove Alan hard toward yet another orgasm.

A hand closed around his cock, the grip hard, even punishing, and began to stroke.

“Come for me, Alan. I want to feel you milk my dick when you do. C’mon, baby, you’re so fucking hot. Shoot your load for me.”

Patrick’s thumb swiped the head of Alan’s cock, his dick nailed Alan’s prostate again and again.

Alan cried out as he came, the smell of sex filling his nostrils, the dick in his ass shoving in deep, swelling and pulsing and holding there, just there until the strength ran out of Alan’s arms and he slumped forward.

Patrick collapsed on top of him, his breath coming quick and fast. “Whooo, boy, I definitely want to do that again. You are just as great a lay as I thought you’d be.”

“I bet you say that to all the guys when you still have your dick up their ass.”

“No way. I usually wait ‘til after I pull out to talk shit like that.”

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Alan laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

“To the bone,” Patrick said. He rubbed his face in the sweat coating Alan’s back then ran his tongue from one shoulder blade to the other. “Mmm, I love the taste of sex sweat, don’t you?”

God, this guy was something else.

If he didn’t hang onto this one, he really did need his head examined.

Patrick’s softening cock slipped from Alan’s ass and he rolled off him. There was a pause and Alan opened his eyes long enough to see Patrick dealing with the condom. That done, he stretched out on the bed and slid an arm around Alan’s waist tugging him close.

“C’mere, so you don’t have to lay in the funky spot.”

“It’s my funk,” Alan pointed out. But he rolled onto his side and let Patrick spoon against his back.

As his eyelids grew heavy and his thoughts drifted, Alan thought again of Michael and wondered what he was doing right now.

Some time later Alan woke, unsure where he was. But wherever he was, the warm male body pressed against his back was very nice, and so was the hard cock poking his backside.

And then he remembered. He was in Patrick Somers’s bed and that was Patrick’s cock prodding him.

Alan opened his eyes. It was full dark in the bedroom. There was a clock on the dresser, the numbers just a green blur in the darkness.

He raised his head and squinted. It was nearly ten.

The arm around Alan’s waist tightened. Lips brushed the nape of his neck. “Where do you think you’re going?” Patrick’s voice was rough with sleep. “I haven’t finished with you yet.”

“I have to get going. It’s almost ten.”

“Hmm.” Patrick’s hand slid down Alan’s belly, making the muscles quiver. Strong fingers closed around his cock. “Why
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don’t you stay? Spend the night. Let me fuck you again.”

Alan’s breath caught and he pushed into the touch even as he said, “Can’t. Oscar.”

Patrick paused in the process of nibbling on Alan’s shoulder.

“Who? Oh, the dog.” He laughed. “For a minute I couldn’t figure out… Anyway, sure… You can’t leave the poor guy crossing his legs all night.”

“No. And if he doesn’t cross his legs, I’m in even more trouble.”

But the cock against his ass was becoming more insistent, and the fingers stroking his dick felt so good that for a moment Alan simply closed his eyes and enjoyed.

“Next time, bring him with you.”

“I’m not sure if there’ll be a next time.”

The hand stopped its stroking. “Geez, was I that bad?”

Patrick’s words held a note of teasing that didn’t quite cover something else. Hurt? Offense? Alan wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, he had to try and fix it.

“Not at all.” Alan turned, slid his arms around the man beside him. Patrick stiffened but Alan didn’t let go. “You’re great. This was great.”

“Look, Alan, you don’t have to—”

“Listen. I’m the one who’s fucked up. Hell, I should be jumping on you. You’re smart and funny and hot as fuck. You’re just the kind of guy I’ve been looking for.”

“God, is that a dumping line or what?” But Patrick’s body relaxed a little.

“Not hardly. In fact, if you were smart, you’d be the one running away, far and fast. Because I am fucked up. See, I’m sort of stuck on somebody. I may even be in love with him. That sounds bad, doesn’t it, considering that here I am naked in your bed after I just let you fuck my brains out?”

Patrick didn’t answer, probably because he was too polite to too soon FoR Love
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agree out loud. Instead he asked, “So why aren’t you with him, this guy you’re in love with?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” Patrick reached up and twined a lock of Alan’s hair around his finger. “You can tell me.”

And Alan realized that he could tell him. “He says he’s not ready for a relationship. His partner died recently and he’s still grieving.”

“Is it that guy who came into the office with you when you brought Oscar in? Michael? That was his name, right?”

“Yeah, that’s his name. But how did you know? Am I that obvious?”

Patrick shrugged. “Not that obvious. I just had a feeling.

Maybe because I was watching you, I don’t know. But that’s why I was surprised when you called. I figured if you and he weren’t together yet, you would be soon, then you called and I was like, what the hell? May as well take the ride.”

Rolling over on his back, Patrick sighed. “It’s too bad, really.

I love your hair.”

“My hair?” Alan laughed.

“Yeah, I’ve got a real thing for natural redheads, and I’m crazy about that autumn sunset hair of yours.”

God, he really was an idiot, letting this one go.

“I should introduce you to my brother Tommy. We’re twins.”

Michael was just coming down the stairs as the doorbell rang.

“Want me to get it?” Robby called from the living room.

“Nah, I got it.” Michael hurried down the remaining stairs and into the front hallway. It would be Alan at the door and Michael was looking forward to seeing him. As he reached the front door, Michael heard the soundtrack of a video game drifting out from the living room. Once Robby had discovered Phillip’s game console, Michael had encouraged him to use it. He planned to make a gift of it when Robby left to return home.

Michael opened the door.

“Hey, Alan. How’s it going?”

“Good. How did you know it was me?” Alan stepped inside.

“I was expecting you and you’re always on time.”

“I’m too predictable.”

“No way. Besides, I recognize your cologne.”

Michael inhaled. Alan was wearing that light, now familiar scent that he had come to associate with him. And not just with him, but with the time they’d had sex. Sense memories, Michael knew, were the strongest. His dick knew it too. It stirred inside his jeans and began to fill. Luckily, his game jersey covered him to mid-thigh.

Michael heard Robby’s footsteps just as Alan said, “You’ve got company.”

“It’s Robby,” Michael said as the other man joined them in the hall. “He’s coming to the game with us.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, Alan.” Robby joined them. “It’s Alan, right?”

“Right.”

There followed an odd pause when no one spoke.

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“Yeah, so,” Michael reached for his jacket hanging on the coat-tree. “I guess we should get going. Who’s driving?”

They took Robby’s car. Michael rode shotgun while Alan sat in back. Robby had played hockey when he was younger and was a huge fan.

“I was a forward,” Robby said when Michael asked what position he had played.

“You have to be able to skate to be a forward.” Michael leaned over and punched buttons on the jeep’s radio, searching for the pre-game show. Normally he wasn’t much for the pre-game yackfest, but anything was better than the weird silences that kept cropping up.

Alan seemed unusually quiet. Which seemed really odd because they never had trouble finding things to talk about.

Michael twisted in his seat. “You okay?”

“Me? Sure.”

Michael waited but Alan didn’t offer any more. After a moment, he went back to his station surfing. If Alan didn’t want to talk then he’d leave him alone. He knew from his years with Phillip that forcing the issue would most likely get him nowhere, and might piss Alan off.

When Michael finally found the pre-game, he settled back to listen. Alan would talk when he was ready.

✧ ✦ ✧

The horn sounded, signaling the end of the first period.

Alan stood. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Michael stood too. “I’ll go with you.”

Michael took Alan’s arm and they exited the row. They were halfway up the steps when Michael spoke.

“What’s going on, Alan? Why are you so quiet?”

Shit
.

No way was he telling Michael how stunned he’d been to find too soon FoR Love
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out that Robby was going to the game with them. Though the kid seemed nice enough, Alan just couldn’t get past what he knew about him, that he was a cheating little asshole who would fuck someone else’s lover on the side. And not only fuck him, but try to break up the relationship.