Wanderlust (Filling Spaces #1) (5 page)

Shea flushed deeply at
the stir of cool air against his skin and tried to ignore the swollen heaviness
of his own arousal hot against his stomach as Jamie regarded him with
appreciative gray eyes.  He’d never felt so exposed in his life, not even with
other lovers.  But the cool blue illumination from the laptop and the
unfamiliar shape of this room made this feel like another world, an altered one
in a time and space separate from normal reality—and in spite of that, or maybe
because of it, Shea felt a strange freedom in disregarding his own restraint
and breaking the rules he normally set for himself.  So rather than avert his
eyes or close his legs he simply surrendered as Jamie leaned over him, as the
taller man’s knowing hand stroked his abdomen, slipped teasingly down to his
thighs and then wrapped gracefully around his cock.  “So pretty,” Jamie sighed
against his ear, and nipped affectionately at the lobe.

Each slow, lazy stroke
provoked an aching shock of pleasure and desire that made Shea’s hips arch slowly,
reflexively, into the tight, pleasurable grip. And even this might not have
been so different from any other act of intimacy but for Jamie’s presence,
which somehow transformed the simple touch into something more electric and
intimate than Shea had ever experienced.  Jamie seemed to enjoy Shea’s pleasure
more than his own, and studied every shift in Shea’s expression with intense,
inquisitive hunger, worrying his lip as he watched.  To Shea’s surprise, he
found pleasure in Jamie’s evident pleasure, in
being
watched in such a
way, and they might have continued on in that delicious feedback loop
indefinitely if Shea hadn’t noticed Jamie shift slightly, a casual gesture to
accommodate arousal, and if Shea hadn’t suddenly and sharply wanted
more
.

“Hey,” he whispered,
and his own voice sounded foreign and breathy in the dark as he stayed Jamie’s
hand.  “Stop—just for a minute.”

Expression guarded and
wary, Jamie obeyed instantly and removed his hand.  “Change your mind?” he
asked with a forced lightness that, to Shea, sounded like an attempt to cover
hurt.

“No,” Shea murmured
hastily to reassure him—Jamie changed moods so fast it unnerved him, and he
didn’t want to lose the precious moment—and reached out instead, awkwardly
tugging Jamie’s shirt up to his shoulders.  “No, I just want—” Jamie lifted his
arms obligingly, amused now, and with a huff of effort Shea managed to draw the
shirt over his companion’s head and shoulders. He wanted these moments to
linger as long as possible.  “I want—to feel you, too—”

Jamie laughed. “So
honest,” he remarked, and ran the back of his hand over Shea’s cheek again,
that indulgent caress that seemed to mean
you’re so odd
and
I like
you
all at once.  “Well, I won’t say no, if you’re up for it.”  And he
unbuttoned his jeans before Shea’s fumbling fingers could finish the work,
shrugging them off with a lithe twist of his hips and kicking them off with his
feet.

Shea reddened.  “You’re
not wearing any underwear,” he remarked absurdly, and forgot momentarily about
his own nakedness as he glanced down.  Jamie was
very
aroused, he
realized, and entirely unashamed of it; the other boy leaned back casually on
his elbows, body utterly on display, and offered a cocksure grin.

“Like what you see?”

There wasn’t any way to
respond to that with the slightest modicum of decency, and so Shea didn’t
respond at all.  He simply leaned forward for a surprisingly soft kiss and let
his hands roam where they would, over the slope of Jamie’s shoulders and down
his narrow chest, to the jut of his hipbone and the smooth curve of his ass. 
Riveted, he mapped out the other man’s body, discovered scars with careful
fingertips: the long raised line that slashed Jamie’s skin above his right hip,
and a thicker, shorter scar at the small of his back.  When he finally glided
his palms down and traced the shape of Jamie’s sizeable arousal, the velvet
skin stretched taut and smooth over impossible hardness, he found himself
surprised by Jamie’s answering gasp.  He hadn’t
meant
to tease, not
exactly, but the thought made him smile into the kiss as he tightened his grip
around the shaft of Jamie’s cock and tried to stroke with his companion’s
casual, lazy assurance. 

His fingers slipped, at
first, and both the grip and the angle felt wrong.  Flushed, he tried again—and
then started as Jamie’s hand slid down to meet his, to guide him with their
fingers tangled together.  It only took moments before Shea found the right
rhythm, his mouth pressed against Jamie’s as he grew comfortable with the slide
of his hand against Jamie’s hardness.  When Jamie reciprocated in kind and
rubbed nimble fingers affectionately over the swollen head of his cock, Shea
almost forgot what he was doing entirely, lost a beat in his careful strokes,
and felt Jamie laugh lightly against his lips.

The dark felt like it
might swallow them, or at least as though it might erase the world beyond the
confines of their embrace.  Mouth to mouth, tangled in an embrace, they touched
each other—sometimes with purpose and sometimes not, sometimes with a
determined rhythm and sometimes with faltering grips when the kisses grew too
heated and desire overwhelmed purpose.  Shea had no idea how long it had been
since he’d felt something like this, pressed himself harder against Jamie as
his hand faltered.  The constant throb of pleasure above and below left him
dizzy.  Maybe a long time.  Maybe never.

Jamie purred against
his mouth and somehow the world moved and Shea found himself on his back on the
sleeping bag, cool air rushing over his naked body as Jamie pulled away only to
resettle himself between Shea’s legs. 
You don’t have to do that
, Shea
started to say, but couldn’t, and then Jamie’s head dipped low and his warm,
wet mouth took Shea in all the way to the root.  Thought stopped.  Time
stopped.  Nothing else existed but Jamie’s mouth moving on him, the heat of Jamie’s
hands on his thighs.  “Please,” Shea managed, strangled.  “Please, yes.”   

Low cries came from him
unbidden and he forgot to be embarrassed in the wake of this encompassing
bliss; still, Shea fought not to thrust into Jamie’s mouth, refrained from
tangling his hands in that silky dark spill of hair.  Difficult, when all he
wanted was that wet heat, but he didn’t want to force, or—or—

“Go on,” Jamie
encouraged, breathless as he lifted his head. “You don’t have to hold back.  I
don’t mind.” He smiled, lips slick with saliva, but there was a tenderness to
his gaze that startled Shea, almost threw him out of the moment. 
Because I
was being considerate?  Hasn’t anyone ever tried to be careful with him before?
 
But Shea lost the thought almost immediately as Jamie cast an appreciative,
possessive gaze up the length of his body; he stroked Shea’s slick cock briefly,
playfully, before sliding his hand down farther and back to rub Shea’s entrance
with gentle fingertips.  The smaller boy’s body tensed and he moaned
helplessly; Jamie smiled as Shea bucked up instinctively into his mouth.

Help,
Shea
thought, and his eyes squeezed shut of their own accord as his focus narrowed
to sheer overwhelming
sensation
: Jamie’s warm mouth taking him in, clever
fingers encouraging him to part his legs as they teased his tight opening, the
desire that burned more and more with every arch of his hips into that wet
heat. “Help,” he whispered aloud, and didn’t know why
that
was the word
that came out when what he really meant was
please, I’m close, please don’t
stop
.  This shockingly intimate kiss, the slow, decadent way Jamie tasted
him, the silken glide of Jamie’s tongue against his aching hardness drew from a
deep well of pleasure locked somewhere inside and flooded his senses until he
felt wholly lost; open and surrendered, Shea pressed longingly against Jamie’s
fingers and thrust up into his mouth until either seconds or eternities later his
whole body went tense and all the pleasure coalesced at once.  Unashamedly he
cried out, heard Jamie’s soft murmur of encouragement and felt strong hands
tighten on his thighs as he pitched over the edge trembling and waves of bliss
claimed him.

Dimly, Shea felt Jamie
swallow once, twice, and barely stirred as the other man’s hands stroked his
thighs.  A profound peace claimed him, but he forced his eyes open after what
felt like a small and blissful eternity.  “Hey,” he mumbled, and blinked to
refocus as the world came back into relief around him; he noticed the laptop
again, gleaming in the dark, and the vague outlines of the table nearby. 
Outside, the night sounds continued on unabated, and Jamie crouched, relaxed,
between his thighs.

“Hey yourself,” the
other man returned, amused.  “Feel good?”

Shea nodded, rapt as he
studied the slope of Jamie’s shoulders, the body that seemed both slim and
lithe-muscled.  He blushed as his gaze dropped to Jamie’s still-evident arousal. 
“Sorry,” he said hastily, ashamed.  “I didn’t mean just to think of myself.” 
Awkwardly, slick and sweat-damp with pleasure, his hair ruffled, he pushed
himself up from the floor and came to his knees.  His whole body ached
pleasantly and his dampness stained his thighs from Jamie’s avid
ministrations.  “Let me—”

“Don’t worry about it,”
Jamie returned casually, and stretched out on the floor, relaxed in spite of
his obvious desire.  “I’ve got hands. I can take care of it later.”

But that wasn’t fair. 
And even though the urgency of his own need had passed, Shea found Jamie no
less alluring than before.  Maybe even
more
alluring, now that he could
notice the smaller details that arousal’s haze had clouded: the mingled
affection and desire apparent in those gray eyes, the swollen lips slightly
parted and saliva-slick, the vulnerability in his features when he seemed, as
now, at rest.  Shy, Shea nevertheless felt no restraint; he lowered his head willingly
and nuzzled Jamie’s abdomen.  He felt the stillness in Jamie’s body as the
other man’s breath caught, and the simple reaction—the honest expression of
want—spurred him forward.

This
he’d done only rarely—only during fumbling and largely underwhelming encounters
in dark dorm rooms—and he didn’t let himself wonder why he wanted to do it so
much now.  Instead, he took his time, kissing down the length of the shaft,
tracing the beguiling hardness with an eager tongue.  Jamie’s hands cradled his
head gently, encouraging, and stroked his hair; because of that Shea didn’t
feel obligated to take more of the man’s substantial girth than he was able.  Instead,
he used his hand in concert with his mouth, sucking and stroking, pulling back
to run his tongue over the slit and tip of Jamie’s cock before taking him deep
again, over and over.  To his surprise, the act didn’t feel like the chore he
remembered from earlier days; he reveled in his ability to draw out those low,
quiet sounds of pleasure from Jamie, to discover his taste and the way he
arched his hips when pleasure overwhelmed him.

It didn’t take long. 
Shea’s jaw had only just begun to ache when Jamie’s grip tightened on his
hair.  “Shea,” he managed in warning, “just—in a minute, I—” And even though
the sound of his own name spoken in such a way threatened to undo Shea’s
composure, he managed to keep his rhythm, tightening his hand on Jamie’s cock
and taking him as deeply as he could until the other man’s hips bucked once,
twice, and bitter warmth flooded his mouth.

“Fuck,” Jamie muttered breathlessly
after a moment, and stroked a surprisingly gentle hand over Shea’s hair as he
swallowed.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

Shea lifted his head,
surprised by how much
younger
Jamie seemed without the challenging glint
in his eyes and his sarcastic smile.  Right now the set of his mouth was soft
and serious, his gray eyes heavy-lidded with satiated passion.  “I wanted to do
it,” he responded simply, and unfolded himself from his kneeling position on
the floor.  A delicious exhaustion took him as he stretched out alongside Jamie
without bothering to dress. “Felt good.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jamie
replied, but the words held fondness.  He didn’t stir from his position, but
simply pulled the sleeping bag on top of them both like a blanket and settled
in willingly behind Shea, content to remain as he was.  Shea relaxed into the
loose embrace and the heat of Jamie’s body against his back, allowed sleepiness
and the relaxation of release to loosen his muscles and cloud up the thoughts
in his brain.

He closed his eyes. 
“Different like this,” he murmured.   “Everything about tonight—and you. 
Different.”

Jamie draped his arm
loosely over Shea’s waist.  “Probably ‘cause you did what you
felt
for
once,” he replied drowsily. His lips pressed lightly against the back of Shea’s
neck—whether the barest of goodnight kisses or a simple accident of speaking,
Shea wasn’t sure. “What you wanted to do.”

“Yeah,” Shea whispered
softly, after a long moment of silence. 
What I wanted, instead of…everything
else that I do because I should.  Or because it seems right.

“Should stay here with
me, you know,” Jamie continued, and his faint grin against Shea’s skin made
Shea smile instinctively in response.  “And come with me when I leave.  Give up
that boring picket-fence life of yours and risk something, for once.”

The offer sounded
absurd on its face; Shea huffed a little laugh into the darkness.  “Very
funny,” he replied, but his heart twisted as soon as he said the words, as he
realized that the dawn would bring with it goodbye to this place, to Jamie, and
a return to all the routine and ordinary comforts of home.  He paused, his
fingers twisting the sleeping bag into knots.  “You’re joking, right?”