11. Emmett

11

EMMETT

How dare you.

Get the fuck out of my house.

Why do you have to be in my space, my work, my life?

All of those were things I should have said to Storm. Should have shouted at him, in between throwing him out onto the front doorstep and slamming the door in his perfect face.

Instead my cock throbbed, and I felt the familiar molten pull deep down in my chest. Desire . Stupid, foolhardy desire, leading me down the only path I knew damn well I shouldn't go down.

I tried to hide my surprise when he told me to strip naked. Even now, I couldn't quite believe those words coming out of Storm's mouth.

I didn't really believe anything tonight was real, but if Storm really was just having some sort of crazed, one-time craving for another man, I wasn't going to say no when his touch was the best thing I'd felt in years.

Could that really be true? That it had been years since anyone had made me feel this good, and it had to be Storm Rosling making me feel it now?

"Is that your thing?" I asked. "Make fun of people's cologne choices, then tell them to strip naked for you?"

He looked at me like he knew he had me in his trance right now. I hated that look, and I hated how accurate it was.

He had me right where he wanted me, and I wanted it so badly right now, too.

"I wasn't making fun of your delicious… vanille… whatever you called it," he said. "I love the way you smell. And I also want to see you naked."

I was already reaching for the button on my pants before he'd finished asking, my fingers trembling just slightly in a way I hoped to hell wasn't visible. Fuck it. The worst thing that could happen—and the most likely thing to happen—was that it would be one night, I'd finally feel the touch of another man again, and then it would fizzle out like most things did.

Or you're not thinking correctly, because you're turned on, and this will blow up in your face spectacularly .

Sure. That was another likely option.

But I was already tugging down my pants, and I was enjoying it so much that it was truly embarrassing how hard I was. When I dropped my pants to the floor, the outline of my hard-on was pressing through my light grey boxer briefs in a spectacularly visible way, along with a wet spot at the tip of my cock that had apparently been soaking through.

"Wow," Storm said softly, his eyes so focused on me. In the light from the fire, he looked more relaxed than I'd ever seen.

"Ready to run away yet?" I asked.

Hoping he'd say yes.

Hoping he'd say no.

Or maybe that the world could just explode, right about now, and save me from the agony of how desperate I felt for Storm's approval in this moment.

But his eyes landed on the outline of my cock, his hand coming out to gently stroke the shape of it.

I got goosebumps all over.

"Not even close to running away," he said, his voice heavy with desire. "I'm thinking that I can already tell you have a very nice cock, and you're not even naked yet."

"Since when do you care about how other guys' cocks look?" I asked.

He gave me a doubtful look. "I always thought I was straight, Emmett, but I was never a prude. I've seen plenty of cocks. I've even looked closely at plenty, in videos. Even gay ones."

"You've watched gay stuff online?"

He shrugged. "Why is that such a big deal? It wasn't as if I wanted their cocks so badly, or anything, but I at least wanted to… compare and contrast."

"You're an interesting person, Storm."

He pulled his lower lip into his mouth. "You don't have to take those off if you really don't want to."

"I'm not modest, either," I said. "I want to. Just still not convinced you're not going to change your mind—"

He moved forward from his place on the couch and scooted over toward me. He leaned forward, latching his teeth around the waistband of my boxer briefs and tugging them down with his mouth, letting them drop down to my ankles.

"Not changing my mind," he uttered, coming back up, his face just inches from my bare cock now. "Holy fuck, that is nice."

His lips were on my cock a moment later, like he couldn't resist.

Holy God.

He didn't suck it right away, instead pressing small kisses along the shaft, which only made me throb more in anticipation.

Storm Rosling is kissing your cock .

"You are so annoying," he said in between kisses. "Acting like I'm anything other than way too fucking eager for this."

"Christ," I murmured as his tongue slid out, just slightly, around my tip. "Quit talking."

He just hummed and let out a low chuckle. "I like it when you're flustered."

His tongue slid out again, and I couldn't help but moan at the feeling, pure sensation flooding my entire body at once.

He was so good. So, so good.

"It's not rocket science. Blow jobs tend to feel good," I said in a low voice, trying to bluff. "You think I'm flustered just because a tongue on my cock feels nice?"

"Yes," he murmured, glancing up at me with those goddamn eyes. "I do think you're flustered. Want to know how I know?"

I moaned again as he took the tip of my cock fully between his lips for the first time. Damn traitor body, unable to control itself under Storm's spell. I watched the wavy locks of his hair, all messed up on top from when he'd been pressed against the couch. He took me a little deeper into his mouth, my cock disappearing further between his lips.

He pulled off and glanced up at me again, his signature little playful grin spreading over his face. It was irresistible. I couldn't delude myself into thinking it wasn't. The smile that had charmed millions of fans, now positioned right in front of my stiff cock.

" Oh no ," he said in a singsong, sarcastic voice. " I'm a straight guy, and I'm sucking cock! I better run away fast! "

"Fuck off," I muttered under my breath, smiling despite myself. He ran his open palms up against my thighs and laughed, leaning in to kiss my skin there, a teasing little line of kisses trailing up toward my dick again.

"You're so fun," he murmured.

"Are you going to suck it, or not?"

He leaned back, his gaze searching mine. "Damn, Fancy. It's my first time. Give a guy a little room to explore and savor it, would you?"

My heart worked itself into a little knot, immediately regretting what I'd said. I never wanted to pressure anyone, and I certainly wouldn't usually command anyone so bluntly unless I knew they wanted it, too.

But it was easy to forget that this was Storm's first time. Easy to forget that he had anything but pure, raw bravado inside him, and that below the constant stream of challenges and teases, he actually had some tenderness inside him, too.

My instinct was to apologize, to reach down and comfort him, tell him I was sorry for being bossy, and reassure him.

Instead I leaned over, took his head in my hands, and kissed him deeply. I was shocked all over again at how natural it felt—it felt like I knew his tongue already, like his mouth fit perfectly with mine.

For fuck's sake, you are a good kisser, Storm.

He didn't seem to hesitate with anything in life, but especially not when he was kissing me. I kept thinking there would be some pullback, some resistance, but in reality he just seemed hungrier for it every time.

"Lay back on the couch," he murmured against my lips, squeezing his hands against my thighs.

We switched positions, and he made room for me to lay back onto the couch, positioning himself right between my legs. His fingers trailed down my chest and lower toward my stomach.

Maybe he liked knowing he had me here, in his control. Or maybe he really was just curious, and I was nothing more than an interesting opportunity for him.

He started to press small kisses down my stomach, occasionally letting his tongue slide out against my skin. My breath caught, and he gave me a glance.

"All good?"

"I like that. The tongue, I mean."

He let his tongue slide out a little more against the skin just above my groin, just inches from my dick. It was the most delicious little preview, both maddening and so satisfying all at once.

"God, you have a good body," he murmured as he gently nibbled at my hip. His fingertips slid over the soft, light trail of hair that led down to my groin. "And this is really fucking hot."

I bit my lower lip. "Thank you."

It felt almost laughable to hear him say my body was good. He truly had one of the best bodies in the world—a professionally good body—but I couldn't deny that I appreciated his praise.

" So hot," he said again, in a low whisper, almost like he hadn't even meant to say it out loud. He gripped the base of my cock in his fist and leaned over, sucking it between his lips.

And from the moment I was in his mouth again, all thoughts left my mind entirely.

All I could focus on was how good it felt. He seemed slightly unsure about what technique to use at first, but to be honest, that only made it better for me. He tried different things—flicking his tongue a little along my tip, sucking it in and hollowing out his cheeks, and then pushing it deeper, seeing how much he could take.

It was like he was edging me without even trying. Every time he tried something new, I bucked my hips just a little, involuntarily. I gasped the first time he tried to take the entire length of my cock up to his throat, and he pulled back quick, wiping at his mouth.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, worried.

"What? No, God no," I uttered. "I was just—I wasn't expecting that."

The hint of his smile played at his lips. "I'm not exactly a deepthroat king yet, apparently," he said. "Let me try again."

Already trying again, even though he'd choked a little the first time. I'd always gotten the sense that Storm wasn't afraid of anything, but as I watched him learn how to suck cock, I realized just how fearless he truly was.

Everything he did felt good. Too good. He gripped my base and let the flat of his tongue drag along the underside of my shaft, and for a brief moment I worried I was about to blow right then and there.

"Careful," I warned him.

He pulled off, breathing deep as he met my gaze. "Or what?"

"Or I'll come in your mouth," I told him frankly.

He bit his lower lip. His eyes flared wide. "Then come in my mouth."

I raised my eyebrows. "Storm."

"Quit acting so shocked," he said. "You know you're going to come for me."

I groaned as he took my cock between his lips again, sucking me deep.

Fucking hate you , I thought, even though at the moment I couldn't deny that I loved his stupid, combative attitude.

Turned out that when his aggressiveness came in the form of daring me to come, I really, really liked it.

I was closer than I'd even realized.

You hate me, too. You hate everything I represent. And that makes every part of this easier .

There was no pressure. No threat of this ever turning into more. It was just raw sensation and need, the two of us channeling our frustration into something that felt better than a fistfight. Every time I'd tried to get something going with other guys for the past two years, I'd chickened out, threatened by the prospect of a relationship I wasn't ready for.

But with Storm, it was all physical. Primal.

Competition, in the form of fucked-up lust, because Storm always had to see how far he could push.

Do it.

Make me come.

Destroy me, if that's what you're so good at.

My breath hitched. He looked up at me as he took me deep, quickening his pace. His expression said everything he'd said before, wordlessly. So goddamn cocky, telling me that I was going to come for him, and being so right about it.

And when I looked into his deep blue eyes, I really did feel like he was in control of me.

"I'm close," I said breathlessly. "Going to come—"

It crashed down on me even sooner than I'd anticipated, sensation pooling at the base of my cock. He sucked me hard, like he was trying to milk every last drop out of me, and fuck , it worked. My hips arched upward against his mouth and he moaned deeply as I came, over and over, onto his tongue. I squeezed my eyes shut, falling into sensation.

It was everything I had needed. Utter oblivion. I had desperately needed to shut my thoughts up, and nothing did that better than this. Giving up control, and letting myself ride out the feeling.

I hadn't even opened my eyes yet when I realized what Storm was doing. He pulled off of my cock, gently sucking me clean and swallowing.

But I felt a light motion above me, and when I blinked my eyes open, I saw that Storm was sitting above me, straddling me, and his hand was down his pants.

"Fuck," I said quietly.

"I feel like I'm going to explode if I don't," he uttered, his eyes wild. "Mind if I…"

Oh, hell yes , I thought. That is perfect. My turn, motherfucker.

"So desperate you have to touch yourself right after you sucked my cock, huh?" I said, my voice still heavy. But I wasn't going to miss my opportunity to volley back at him for what he'd just done to me.

"It made me so hard, Emmett," he said.

"Of course it did."

Mmh. Something about him using my real name instead of calling me some dumb Fancy Pants nickname made me feel even better. Like he was so lust-drunk and turned on right now that I had him wrapped around my fingers.

Or between my legs, in reality.

I looked him up and down, enjoying the show. He shoved down his pants and underwear, and in an instant, I was looking right at his cock.

I had to struggle not to drool. It was perfect. Long, thick, and very hard, beneath the deep V shape of his also-perfect lower abdominal muscles.

He leaned over me. I gasped as he pressed his lips to mine in a kiss, moaning against me. It was even more surprising that he'd want to kiss me again rather than just blow his load.

It felt both intimate and vulgar at the same time. His mouth opening to mine, his tongue sliding out, as he jerked himself off above me.

"The things you do to me," he whispered against my lips, and his words hit me just as surprisingly as his kiss had.

The things I did to him? He was the one who was driving me crazy. The one who'd wanted to suck me off.

What effect did I have on Storm, exactly?

"You took my cock so well," I uttered before biting his lower lip. "Like you were made for it."

He groaned deeply and all at once, I felt his hips buck forward as a burst of heat hit my stomach and chest.

" Fuck ," he said forcefully as he came, pulling up and looking down at my body. "I was—was going to try to catch it in my hand but—fuck, sorry about that—"

"Christ, do you always come this much?" I said softly, reaching down to run my fingertips through the thick streaks of white all over my skin. "People pay a lot of money for cumshots like this online."

I neglected to mention that big shots like that were something I specifically had looked up, many times, and were a particular turn-on for me. If I hadn't just blown my own load, I could have come again just from how hot it had been.

He was a wild mess above me. His hair was sticking in a million directions, and he looked utterly blasted , like he'd just been fucked rather than simply making out with me.

And I hated to admit how much I liked that.

Just then the sound of the front door opening sounded out, and for a second I was sure I must have been imagining it.

Who would be coming into my house?

Unannounced?

"Yoo-hoo!" I heard a familiar voice calling out from the front entryway a moment later, and my insides went hot. I immediately realized who it must be, and why he was here.

"Landry," I said, my eyes going wide. "Um, Landry—wait a sec, please—"

"Door was open," Landry said. "Your text seemed a little dire earlier tonight, so I figured—oh, hello. "

It was too late.

Landry had poked his head around the column between the entryway and the living room, glancing over toward the couch before politely turning the other way.

I looked up to Storm, who was climbing off of me and standing up near the couch. I expected an embarrassed reaction that any normal person would have.

But I forgot that I was dealing with Storm Rosling.

Storm didn't do embarrassment.

"Howdy," Storm said, smiling his usual confident, charming smile. He cupped his cock in one hand, attempting modesty so that he wouldn't fully flash a stranger. But other than that, he stood proud and tall, seemingly completely fine with being seen naked, sweaty, and very intimate next to me.

"Hello, there," Landry said, still looking off toward the kitchen. "I didn't mean to interrupt, it sounded like you were home alone, Emmett."

"I was here alone earlier," I said, heat flooding to my cheeks. Apparently Storm had no issue being caught like this, but even around my best friend, I was a little more modest. I reached for my clothes, tugging on my underwear and pants hastily.

"I'll stop by again later," Landry said. "I'm sorry."

"No, no," Storm said. "I'll head out. Don't want to get in the way of whatever you two…"

He trailed off and I covered my face with my hands.

"It's not like that. Landry's my best friend, not a hookup," I said. "Is everything ok, Landry?"

"Absolutely," he said. "Just wanted to bring over some truffle fries and the good pumpkin pie spice ice cream, because you sounded like you were having a rough night in your text earlier."

He was still staring at the wall over by the kitchen, preserving my modesty. Bless his heart. Good old Lucky Landry. Always relaxed, always smooth, no matter what happened. There was a reason he was my best friend.

"I'll leave you guys to it," Storm said, pulling on his pants but not bothering to toss on a shirt.

"You could stay," Landry offered.

Fuck .

That was one thing about Landry that I usually loved, but hated right now.

Just like me, he was too friendly. To everyone. Always.

"Wouldn't want to impose," Storm offered, cutting me a glance.

"I sure wouldn't mind if you stayed," Landry said. "Emmett's told me so much about you."

Storm knew I was squirming inside. Like I wished the world would open up and swallow me whole.

And so of course, in typical Storm fashion, he pushed every button inside me that he could find.

"Okay," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I'll stay and hang out, then. Did you say something about truffle fries?"