Chapter 10

CHAPTER

TEN

Ever since Cillian had invited him back for drinks, the tension between them had tightened. Thoughts of everything that might go wrong broke through the calm Anthony had fought to find. He glanced over. Cillian’s gaze was on the road, both hands on the steering wheel as if unwilling to be distracted. Or maybe because he was.

Anthony wiped his palms on his jeans. He hadn’t been this nervous since… since the first time he’d gotten naked with his first boyfriend. That had been a quick experience for both of them.

This wasn’t the same; he knew what to do and what to expect. He hadn’t forgotten what to do, but he had forgotten what it felt like to be with another person. And even though he suspected dinner might end up with the question of whose place, he hadn’t been ready for it. Yet at the same time, he wanted Cillian. His dick ached, and he was pretty bloody sure he was going to put in a lackluster performance.

He didn’t even know what to expect…

Anthony drew a breath and reached over to place his hand on Cillian’s thigh, something he’d once done easily. Hell, in the past, he would have been leaning over and undoing buttons, kissing his neck. He wanted to, but he didn’t move.

Cillian’s lips curved. “Planning on getting started before we arrive?”

Should he not have touched him? He needed to stop doubting himself. “I wanted to touch you.”

He still didn’t understand why Cillian wanted him.

Yeah, he looked good—that hadn’t changed—and looks were enough for one night, but they’d had dinner. Their conversation had been easy as they’d shared a bit about their childhoods—nothing too personal and soul baring. Just enough to form more of a connection. They’d both worked hard to excel in their chosen fields until he’d fucked up. For a few hours, he’d been able to put that knowledge aside and pretend this was his life, and that it was great. Cillian made him feel like he could have a life, and that he was more than an ex-con who should be avoided at all costs.

He breathed out. This was going to be fine. He was not going to screw this up. “Are you going to tell me what you like?”

Cillian was silent for several heartbeats. Anthony gritted his teeth. Once he wouldn’t have worried, he’d have found out along the way. But he needed a lifeline to grab.

“I like lots of things…”

Anthony laughed at the obvious dodge, but the tension remained. “You know what I’m asking.”

“I do. Since you’re asking, you go first.”

He opened his mouth, about to say that he preferred to top, but stopped. That was what he’d liked ten years ago. If he wasn’t the same person, did he still like the same things? “I’m not sure anymore.”

Cillian glanced at him. “Over the last five years, what I like has changed, and my life wasn’t turned inside out.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you to relearn.”

He laughed. “Maybe I like the idea of being your first.”

Cillian was hardly his first, just the first in a long time. He slid his hand over Cillian’s thigh, his fingers edging closer to the tempting ridge in his jeans. His mind filled with possibilities.

Cillian placed his hand over the top and dragged Anthony’s hand to rest over his dick. “We’re almost there, so don’t get carried away.”

Anthony’s breath caught. Beneath his hand, the heat of Cillian’s erection pressed against his palm. He wanted to do more than rub him through the denim. He wanted to lick him, taste him. His mouth watered. Fuck it, he might as well take the chance. “I’m hoping you like getting head.”

“Yeah.” Cillian gave a single nod. “Who doesn’t?”

“I’ve known a few…”

Less than a minute later, he pulled into a parking spot beneath an apartment block. It was a leafy suburb filled with large houses, historic buildings that had been converted into apartments, and a few tall apartment blocks dotted in between.

“This is me. Sorry, it’s not the penthouse.”

“I didn’t expect it to be.” Anthony wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

Cillian got out of the car. “And don’t mind Snap. He’s friendly, even though he’ll hiss at you.”

“Snap?”

“My cat. He came with the apartment.”

“How does a cat come with an apartment?”

“A friend of a friend owns it. They moved to London and couldn’t take Snap, so I got the place with the agreement that I’d also take care of their cat.”

Anthony wasn’t sure if that was a good deal or not as he followed Cillian inside and up the stairs to the third floor. As soon as Cillian put his key in the lock, a loud meow came from the apartment.

“He likes to sing.” Cillian opened the door a crack. “He also likes to escape.” Cillian crouched and pushed open the door, grabbing a large ginger cat before he bolted out the door.

He didn’t want to be jealous of the way Cillian kissed the top of the cat’s head and scratched his ear. Snap glared at him as though disapproving of the company Cillian kept.

Anthony wasn’t sure he agreed with Cillian’s remark about Snap’s friendliness. Would that be a deal breaker? Nope, Anthony decided he didn’t care as long as Snap didn’t watch them.

Cillian stepped into the apartment and flicked on a light. Anthony followed and shut the door. It was only then that Cillian put Snap down, who promptly jumped onto the white sofa and turned his back to both of them.

People with white sofas generally didn’t use them, which meant that they either only used the lounge room when people were over, or they were never home. He had fallen into the latter category. This apartment had a lived-in feel. There was a piano in one corner of the living room next to a small table covered with papers and a laptop. A wall mounted TV and a bookcase faced the sofa.

There was no dining table, though there were three stools at the breakfast bar.

“I’d give you the grand tour, but aside from the bathroom and bedroom, you’ve now seen it all.” Cillian swept his hand around indicating the living room.

“It’s cozy.” It was both smaller and bigger than what he was used to. More room than his prison cell, but much smaller than his previous apartments.

Cillian’s eyebrows quirked up. “Not as cozy as a studio, which I can’t have because I teach, and I don’t want to be doing that in my bedroom.”

“I can see why that would be a problem.”

“And bigger places in this area are not cheap.”

Not cheap to rent or buy. As much as he didn’t want to discuss real estate, he didn’t want to rush things either when Cillian wanted to talk to him. It felt normal and easy and he wanted more of this—whatever it was—but, at the same time, he craved more. He wanted Cillian pressed against him. “Have you considered buying something further out?”

“Often. But I keep artist hours, and it’s nice living nearby. And when I was younger, I loved the nightlife.” His lips curved, a brightness coming into his eyes, and he took a step toward Anthony.

Their paths had never crossed because, with their age difference, Cillian had still been at uni when he’d been going to trial. Even if their paths had crossed, Anthony wouldn’t have paid him much attention, thinking him too young and the wrong kind of person to be seen with.

The people he’d wanted to be seen with had been the same as him: everyone worried about how they looked and how much money they had in the bank.

Cillian ran a hand up Anthony’s chest, fingers catching on his collar. “Did you want a drink?”

There was only one thing Anthony wanted, and it wasn’t alcohol. He slid one hand over Cillian’s hip, then leaned in and kissed him, tugging him closer as he claimed his lips. Cillian’s lips parted and his hands wandered over Anthony’s chest, before working open the buttons on Anthony’s shirt.

Lust was a heady drug he hadn’t tasted in a decade, but he hadn’t forgotten the steps to this dance. It was only his courage that had been lacking. The moment Cillian’s hands smoothed over his bare skin, Anthony sucked in a breath and stepped back. It was too much… and not enough. His dick throbbed, aching for attention.

“Let’s go to the bedroom. I don’t want to scare Snap.” Anthony’s voice was rough with need. He needed a few seconds to find some control, though it wouldn’t last… He wouldn’t last.

Cillian took his hand and led him into the bedroom. “Snap likes to watch me in the shower. He also likes drinking shower water.”

Anthony groaned. Imagining Cillian naked and wet was a visual he didn’t need. He shut the bedroom door and pressed Cillian against it, kissing him once before dropping to his knees.

“This is what you want?” Cillian’s voice was low.

The room was illuminated only by the ambient light from outside, but it was enough for him to see Cillian watching him. “Yes.”

He fumbled as he undid Cillian’s jeans. It had been so long since he’d undressed anyone but himself. Then his fingers remembered what to do, and he pushed the jeans over Cillian’s hips. He nuzzled at the hard length of Cillian’s dick, breathing in the scent of him before peeling down his briefs and freeing his cock.

The uncut ruddy length jutted toward him as though begging to be licked, and Anthony didn’t hesitate. His tongue swept over the head as he wrapped his hand around the base. He took a little more each time, then risked a glance up.

Cillian watched him, his hazel eyes dark and his lips parted. “I’m not going to fuck your mouth unless that’s what you want.”

The words were enough to make his cock pulse and his briefs dampen with pre-cum.

He wanted to come. He wanted Cillian to come.

“I want to swallow.” He tongued the slit, the taste of pre-cum unfamiliar and arousing.

“Uh-huh.” Cillian tipped his head back, his fingers splayed against the wood of the door as though trying to hold back.

Anthony wanted those long fingers in his hair and wrapped around his cock. He sucked and stroked, and every leaked drop on his tongue only made him hungrier for everything he’d missed.

He’d been in Cillian’s position too many times, the person on their knees more attracted to what they could get from him, than him. But there was nothing Cillian could get from him, and nothing Cillian could give him. This was only for pleasure.

“Oh fuck… That’s it.” Cillian cupped Anthony’s head as his hips rocked.

If Anthony wanted to pull away, he could’ve, but he didn’t. He wanted Cillian to fall apart. He wanted to fall apart.

Cillian drew in a breath and stilled. His cock thickened, and Anthony pulled back to tease the head as Cillian came, spilling onto his tongue.

Anthony swallowed and groaned. He palmed his dick, wanting to come, but not wanting it to be over already. He squeezed his cock, clamping down on the urge to come.

Cillian slumped against the door, then slid to the floor and pulled him in for a kiss. Anthony was impressed he didn’t care about the taste of his cum on Anthony’s lips. He got Anthony’s jeans open and slid his hand in. Wrapping his fingers around Anthony’s cock, he gave it a light squeeze.

Anthony groaned as Cillian undid him in two strokes. As the force of his climax tore through his body, he stopped breathing in what had to be the most intense orgasm of his life.