7. Gray

CHAPTER 7

Gray

I excused myself and went to my office for a few minutes. A little while later, Sunny knocked on the door frame and stuck his head in.

“Wow, this is nice.”

I’d decorated my office as a kind of sanctuary with art, green plants, and the same stained wood trim around the windows. My built-in shelves went to the gabled ceiling and were full of my favorite books and knick-knacks.

“Thanks.”

“And that’s one of your paintings, too, right?” he asked, pointing to the piece that showcased the falls.

“Yes.”

He scraped his teeth over his lower lip, a move that made me want to use his mouth for other, much more pleasurable, pursuits.

“Whatcha writin’?” he asked, gesturing at the steno pad on my desk.

“A list.”

“Is it your ‘Help Sunny Love Christmas Again’ list?”

I bit back a smile, amused by the way he bounced on his feet, entirely unable to stay still for even a second.

“Yes,” I said after a moment. “It’s specific to Christmas Falls, of course.”

Sunny’s smile brightened the room. “Of course.”

“Why does that amuse you?” I asked, trying and failing to not stare at his mouth.

“Oh, nothing. I guess I just like the idea of you wanting me to enjoy Christmas. Here, specifically.”

I hadn't really thought about it that way. I was just jotting down notes, but he’d made a good point. I didn't want him to enjoy Christmas in Chicago or New York or, worse, some other equally perfect small town. I wanted him to enjoy it here.

With me.

Even if it meant I had to dive headfirst into all the things I usually avoided.

Ignoring his happy grin, I tapped the notepad. “It’s too bad you got here after the Thanksgiving celebration. Even with the crowds, I think you would’ve liked it.”

I opened my laptop and found the YouTube video from the Christmas Falls channel. Setting it to full screen, I turned my laptop in his direction.

It showed everything: the parade, the floats, the food, damn near every resident of Christmas Falls, plus a ton of folks from surrounding towns. Plus, of course, the lighting of the Christmas tree.

“Oh my God.” He gave me a look that could only be described as accusatory. “Y'all really are full on into it.”

“Yes, we are,” I admitted freely. “And so are a lot of people who aren't even from here.”

“Which is why I still can't find a place to stay.”

I paused the video. “You're still looking for a place to stay?”

Sunny looked caught. “I just didn't want to . . . you know. Impose?”

“Was there anything about last night that made you feel like I thought you were imposing?”

He flushed; his eyes bright. “Well, no . . .”

“Are you uncomfortable here?” I asked, my stomach twisting while I waited for his answer. “Don’t you want better sleep?”

“No! And yes.”

He rounded the desk and pushed me back against my chair. Snatching the pen from my hand, he set it on the desk before straddling me.

“I love that your office chair doesn’t have arms,” he said, sitting on my lap as he rubbed my shoulders.

“I read somewhere that armless chairs are more ergonomically sound.”

He chuckled. “Ergonomically sound, sexually convenient. Tomato, to-mah-to.”

With the morning sun filtering through the windows, his warm eyes caught fire, the soft yellow light complementing his skin tone, revealing a spray of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

He had that kind of dirty blond hair that was darker at the root while the very tips were bleached out by the sun. That fit perfectly with the man I was coming to know. Sunny wasn’t just all happiness and light; he had an edge of darkness, too.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, leaning in to bump his nose against mine.

“That you’re one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever had on my lap.”

He shifted, a little undone by the compliment. Growling, I gripped his hips and pressed my lips to his. We deepened the kiss, intensifying it, moving toward one another. Kissing him was like falling from a great height. Something so high you didn’t even feel your stomach swoop. So high that you felt like you were flying. Here’s hoping I wasn’t Icarus with the wax wings, doomed to plummet from the heavens.

Needing more, I tightened my hold on him and stood, setting him on my desk, even as he squawked in protest. I pushed him back until he splayed against his elbows, his long legs dangling off the edge. He was still in his pajama bottoms, so I yanked them down past his knees, leaving them to fall to the floor.

Sunny was bare-assed and breathing heavily on my desk, while his cock lay twitching between his thighs, quickly plumping.

I dropped back into my chair and slid him forward till his ass sat on the edge of the desk, his legs over my shoulders. Locking eyes with him, I took him into my mouth. He squeezed his thighs around my head, and I fucking loved it.

I took him deeper, living for how he choked out my name, how his curses pitched up, how his body trembled and rolled beneath me. I sucked harder, palming his balls, tugging, twisting ever so gently.

“Fuck, Gray. I'm going to come.”

Our gazes were still tangled as I sucked and twirled my tongue around his length. I pulled back to give his cock head attention before taking him to the back of my throat all over again.

As much as I planned to slow him down and tease out the feeling, I didn’t want that right now. Instead, I drank in his sighs and moans, the way his body tensed, the way his balls drew up close to his body.

He let his head drop back and came on a cry.

I savored his cum, then swallowed it down. I wanted to do so many more things to him, but then he lay back against the desk, a complete puddle. My fingers twitched and colors coalesced in my mind.

“Fuck, I want to paint you exactly like this,” I said, pushing down my sleep pants.

“Yeah?” he asked, still half glazed, even as he focused on my cock.

I spit in my hand then slicked myself before stroking in earnest. He licked his lips, and I tightened my grip. Just like Sunny, I was too turned on to try to do anything other than race to the finish. The lazy lust in his expression set off explosions in my head and I jerked forward, spilling onto his naked belly, making him even more of a piece of art.

“Do it,” he said, staring at me.

“Do what?” My voice was a mess, and I could barely pull myself together, my knees nearly giving out from how hard I came.

“Not right now, not this second. But . . . take a picture of me and use it later.”

“Portraiture isn't my specialty.”

“Paint me the way you painted that picture of Chicago. The way you painted the falls,” he said, gesturing to the teals and blackish blues of the piece behind my desk.

I gulped. Even as I doubted myself, I could immediately picture what I would do. The colors I would use, the techniques.

I reached for my phone, which had been pushed to the side, half hanging off the edge. My hands shook as I thumbed open the camera app. Sunny’s eyes were closed and his worked over cock was sitting soft and pretty on his spent balls. The lazy lean against his elbows and upward scrunch of his shoulders were both editorial and debauched. The pearly stripes of cum decorated his belly like a watercolor ripple.

His feet, pedicured and smooth, dangled, careless.

I nearly dropped the phone, but my artist’s eye quickly took over. I took a picture of him as he was, then moved his limbs to create a series of poses, all in a row.

Click, click.

I had him scoot back and bring one foot to the table, one dangling.

Click, click.

Both feet on the desk, pretty eyes staring at me through akimbo knees.

Click, click.

“Pull your sac up a little,” I said, my voice unsteady.

He grinned as his elegant hands obeyed my request, putting his hole—still soft and pliant from last night—on display.

The angles of his body, the flat sexuality of his eyes, the sun catching on the lighter ends of his hair, the way his abdomen creased so sensually . . . the composition was perfect. As if his body was its own genre of architecture.

I couldn’t wait to get him on canvas.

Part of me just wanted to stand here for a while longer, letting my eyes linger over every line and scar and hair on his body, but that was probably weird.

I instead held out my hand, and he took it. I pulled him to standing, using his pajama bottoms to wipe the drying cum from his body, accidentally skimming his overstimulated cock with the dangling fabric.

He inhaled sharply. “You are so fucking dangerous.”

“We should clean up, maybe get a few things checked off our list before I have to go in this afternoon,” I said as I palmed his ass and ran my nose through his hair.

“Sounds, uh, really good.”

I took his hand and dragged him into my room and then into my en suite.

Sometimes when people are considered cheerful, that comes with a side of chatty. Especially after sex. I didn’t mind it, and I never wanted to stop somebody from saying what they had to say, but I had always appreciated quiet. Sunny, with all his cheerfulness, seemed perfectly content to silently step into the shower with me.

We held each other under the water for a while, exchanging soft kisses. Obviously, this was foolishness. We were taking advantage of proximity. This was nothing more than getting off with a hot millionaire.

Not even I believed that.

Why else would you be trying to convince him to love Christmas again?

In the quiet and the steam and the constant drum of the water hitting the tiles, I realized that I didn’t want Sunny to be some incidental fuck buddy. He was someone I could genuinely see myself with.

But of course, I was just a small-town asshole, and he was no doubt accustomed to the posh lifestyle of the city. I bet he’d think it was quaint that I wanted to keep him in my arms for a bit longer. Who knew how he’d react if I admitted that waking up with him in my bed this morning filled an ache I'd long ago ignored and thought conquered.

Interrupting my run-on thoughts, Sunny kissed my forehead. He reached for my pouf, poured far too much soap on it, and got it nice and foamy. Between kisses and soft caresses and sweet glances, he scrubbed me down, not missing a single millimeter of skin, getting every nook and cranny, even between my toes and behind my ears. He then scrubbed himself down. We came together again under the water, rinsing off as our hands discovered each plane and curve of the other’s body.

“Face the wall,” he said with a grin.

I didn't know what his plans were, but I definitely wanted to find out. I did as he asked, then leaned forward on my forearms. He got a little more soap on his fingers, and gave my ass another pass, swirling his fingertips between my cheeks and around my hole.

“Mind if I play a little bit back here?” he asked, kissing my shoulder.

“Not at all,” I managed to say without choking on my tongue.

I hadn't lied before. I preferred to top, but that didn't mean I didn't enjoy a little ass play from time to time.

Using the slippery bubbles as lube, he pushed a finger inside me, then another, all while laying cloud-like kisses on my neck.

“Feel good?”

I swallowed, nodding. My cock, already spent, twitched. He thrust his fingers inside me as he peppered my upper back with kisses. Across my shoulders, up my neck, curving around my ear.

I gasped when he crooked his fingers, perfectly nailing that spot inside me.

He paused. “Too much?”

I shook my head and grabbed his free hand, bringing it around to my half-grown cock.

“Just right.”

“Good,” he said, then continued to touch and tease and kiss me.

There was no way I was going to be able to come again, so this was just for pleasure, a way for us to enjoy each other’s bodies. Still, he seemed to get a lot of pleasure from this gentle arousal.

He continued to finger fuck me as he reached around for my cock. He carefully pivoted us back toward the water, stroking me as he angled the sensitive head under the heavy spray of water.

For me, sexual pleasure had always been a binary affair. I was either coming or about to come, but the way he feasted on my body—God, a third finger—knowing that an orgasm wasn't the goal . . . I hadn't ever given much thought to this type of pleasure. In my shortsightedness, I thought something like this was just a tease and a waste.

For the life of me, though, I never wanted him to stop.

Every second he softly sucked on my neck, fingered me, and tugged my cock under the beating water was another second in utter free fall.

I should stop him. I should set a boundary. I should?—

He removed his fingers from my body, then went to his knees.

I looked back over my shoulder at him. “What are you doing?”

His upward glance stole the breath out of my chest. “I'm going to taste you.” He raised his brow. “If you want.”

I snorted, completely inelegant, then again rested my weight on my forearms against the chilly tile. I closed my eyes as he pulled my cheeks apart, then nearly swallowed my tongue when he decadently licked me from my balls to the top of my crack.

He moaned in pleasure, then went again. And again. He continued to do this until I was clinging to the tiles, whining. From there he focused in on my hole. It was sensitive from the working-over he’d already given me, and it felt like heaven when he breached it with his fat tongue.

I nearly sobbed when he stopped.

“Widen your stance for me, Gray.”

I did as he asked, and he pulled my cock between my thighs to stroke it as he went after my hole again. I’d been rimmed before, but it was a perfunctory thing. A few delicate licks before moving on to something else.

Sunny wasn’t moving on. He was making an entire meal of my ass, and his pleasured grunts told me how much he wanted it.

Jesus, fuck. I’d never had a tongue so deep inside me before. Between that and the way he was twisting my foreskin over my cockhead, I really was going to come again.

He dropped my cock, and I whimpered, then shut the hell up when he grabbed both cheeks and spread them even wider, tilting my hips so that the air flowed over me.

Before I could beg for more, his tongue was there, warm and wet and sloppy. Insistent.

And just enough to keep me on the edge.

“Suck me,” I begged. “Fucking suck my cock. Please .”

I never begged. I never sounded desperate. I was the one in charge.

But at this moment I wasn't in charge at all. And I wondered if I'd ever been.

Sunny thrust his tongue into my ass a few more times, then pulled my cock back into his mouth, sucking hard. I pounded the tiles in front of me, and seconds later came harder than I had in my office. Harder than I had, ever.

It was a different kind of orgasm, one that didn't have a lot of cum. I'd mistakenly thought that would diminish my pleasure, but it didn't in the slightest. The sensation pulsed on and on.

Sunny, humming with every cry and growl and curse, sucked me until I begged him to stop. I gave myself a second so that the room could stop spinning, and then turned to face him.

I went to my knees, kissing him before pushing him down onto the tile floor. I sucked his cock into my mouth, no mercy. I reached up and found a nipple, thumbing it, pinching it, pulling on it as he squirmed underneath me.

He was close and came quicker than I thought he would. Surprised, I choked on his cum and it ran down my chin. Pulling back, I tilted my face toward the shower, rinsing the evidence of his orgasm off my face.

He was half sprawled on the shower floor, only one eye open as the shower rained down on us. Droplets of water beaded up on his eyelashes.

“That was fun,” he said, grinning.

Yes, it was. But it was also so much more than that.