17. Emery

17

EMERY

The sky was now a purple magenta, and there’d been no accounting for the amount of relief I felt when Woody had accepted my invitation. I may have had all the power in the world while we were naked, but he held the cards in every other sense of the word.

I didn’t want to appear needy, but it’d been hours since I’d heard from him and I’d been going out of my mind, grateful for any crumb of evidence that I wasn’t the only one affected by this thing between us.

Hell, I jacked off twice today just thinking about what we’d gotten up to in the barn this morning and held off doing so again before I brought dinner on the off chance he’d be up for another go.

Of course, that left me to forage in my kitchen, and luckily I actually had the ingredients. I set about browning the ground meat, chopping up the vegetables, and assembling everything. The tortillas I had on hand were massive and made for some seriously girthy burritos. I had a hard time keeping my mind on the food as I rolled them up tight in aluminum foil for the journey.

After tossing everything in a tote, I hoofed it up his drive, telling myself to keep my cool, to not let on how much I wanted this. I also marveled at the fact that I was sharing space with animals that’d originated from the other side of the globe. I even had favorites—the axis deer and blackbuck antelope were simply beautiful—though I still kept to the fence line, making plenty of noise so that they’d know to keep their distance.

I let my attention drift between the animals and the Milky Way, a swath of diamonds across the sky so close it took my breath away.

When I broke into Woody’s little clearing, Bandit eyeballed me suspiciously as I made my way up the front porch and knocked on the door. I could hear movement inside, then a curse. Seconds later, the door flew open.

Jesus, fuck. Woody was the hottest thing on the planet.

He stood before me, tanned and bare-chested, wearing low-slung lounge pants, a hint of pubic hair peeking out at the top of his waistband. His eyes were watchful and his hair was damp, like maybe he’d just gotten out of the shower. Finally, his nipples had a faint reddish ring around them and seemed puffy, like maybe he’d been playing with them.

Huh .

I’d gotten it in my head that he’d spent the day engrossed in his poetry, oblivious to all but the words. The taut energy vibrating off him made me wonder if he hadn’t detoured from the writing, maybe in some of the same ways I had.

He silently gestured me into his small cabin and I walked into the middle, seeing pretty much everything with one turn of the room. The kitchenette took up the back wall. His surprisingly untidy bed—he struck me as a military corners type of guy—was to the left, and a reading nook with a small but stuffed bookcase sat to the right. No TV, which didn’t surprise me in the slightest.

Spying a tiny table next to the minuscule kitchen, I walked through the space and set my tote bag down. Given his standoffishness, both today and this past week, I was surprised, then, when he approached me from behind and wrapped his wiry arms around my waist, burying his face into the space between my shoulders.

I turned to face him, again confounded when he stretched up for a kiss. I pulled him in close, wary of the shift in his black cat vibes. I kissed him back, though, because when a human creature of the feline variety started rubbing up against you, you went with it.

It was also the first time he’d initiated a kiss. As much as I enjoyed directing things, having him show me how much he actually wanted physical affection was quickly making me abandon any plans to play it cool.

Our couplings to this point had been quick, frantic. Bordering on violent. With him leading the charge, though, things were oh so soft. His kisses, the way his wary eyes drifted to mine, then darted away before I could see into their depths…

Did he know how romantic this was? Kissing in his tiny kitchen? Nothing about Woody felt unconsidered, and yet he seemed as lost to it as I was.

I briefly wondered how that Shane guy could abandon Woody the way he did. Who left this kind of man without even so much as a goodbye? Who would be stupid enough to think they’d find anyone better?

What a fucking idiot.

On that note, I tightened my grip, wanting to erase any doubts he might have. Finally, panting, barely able to catch his breath, Woody pulled back.

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered, pushing down his lounge pants to reveal his hard on.

I reached back, pulling my T-shirt forward and off as I kicked out of my shoes. Impatient, he went for my button, yanking it open as he unzipped me. We pushed my jeans and boxers down and he groaned at the heavy semi, kneeling to shove his nose into the thick, unruly hair at the base as he inhaled deeply.

I nudged his chin with my cock, but he ignored it in exchange for another deep inhale. Suddenly he was rolling a condom down my length, slicking me with lube as he nosed at my balls. His hungry moans and efficient hands made me dizzingly hard. He then pushed me onto his bed and peeled off my socks.

I sat up against his stack of pillows, surprised and delighted when he filled my lap. I took the lube from him, taking him in a kiss as I reached around, spreading lube down his crack. When my fingers landed on his hole, I sucked in a breath.

“Have you been playing back here?”

He smiled and bit at my lip. “Got to writing, started imagining you sinking your cock in my ass, filling me while I waxed poetic about lantana blooms.”

“Like face down?” I asked, trying to picture it.“How would you pay attention with me squishing you like that?”

“Mm,” he said, pressing the cleft of his ass against my cock, stroking it up and down. “I’d probably focus more.”

“So, you started imagining me fucking you while you worked, and then what? Fingered yourself?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got a wicked butt plug that I wore most of the afternoon.”

I ran my nail over the faint red circle around his nipple. “And what’s this from? Nipple suckers?”

He bit at his lower lip. “Yes.”

“And you wrote that way?”

“Mmhmm. Face down, kinda humping the bed as I wrote. I teased myself thinking about you all fucking day,” he explained, once again going a little breathless.

“Oh.” I thought through what he’d said. “ Oh . You must be so desperate for my cock, baby.”

He let out a long sigh. “So. Fucking. Desperate. I nearly came when I douched for you.”

Fuck.

I slid down and stuffed some pillows under my head. “Fucking sit on my face.”

Offering no hesitation, he straddled my face, pushing himself against my nose. Grabbing his hips, I maneuvered him into place and gave his stretched hole a broad lick.

“Fuck, Em. Please. Please ,” he begged. “Hours I’ve been teasing myself.”

Grinning, I pushed my tongue inside, loving the smell of his soap on his clean skin. He arched and keened above me, riding my tongue, forcing me deeper inside him. He was getting close, so I pushed him off me and forced him onto all fours.

From this vantage point, I noticed the nipple suckers and the notebook on his bedside table and grinned as I grabbed them.

“So, you were imagining me fucking you as you wrote?” I asked, attaching one sucker, then the other.

“Mmf. Yes,” he answered, pushing his ass up.

I plucked at the suckers and he panted.

“More. Please.”

Pushing him down against the bed, I stroked into his prepared body, secretly loving his sounds.

“Fuck. So thick,” he said, barely able to breathe. “Love your weight on me.”

I thrust inside him and grabbed his notebook along with his pen, then set it in front of him.

“Write,” I growled into his ear, slow-fucking his tight, perfect ass.

“But—”

“ Write .”

He sent a glare over his shoulder, but then picked up the notebook and pen. Opening the notebook to his last bit of writing, he put pen to paper and went with it. I gentled my movement, but I could still see the up tilt of pen marks from every thrust.

“Sorry to fuck up your penmanship, sweetheart. I’ll just pause here and let you warm my cock with your ass.”

He grunted. “No. Fuck me.”

I tsked. “Give me three more lines and I’ll take you to heaven, baby.”

Settling my weight onto his body, my cock was rock hard and dying to thrust, to seek out its pleasure. Watching Woody go to work, though, was worth it. Despite his complaints, he seemed to love my weight on him, squirming under me as he humped the bed.

I pressed deeper inside him, bottoming out as he scratched through a line and started it over.

“Doesn’t count.”

“I know,” he whined, then got back to writing.

Fucking me, filling me

Dragging me down this broken path

Even if I wanted to, I can’t stop it

I bit his neck, then shifted my hips back, stopping right as the fat head of my cock stretched his hole.

“Emer—”

I drove my hips forward, driving up and into him. He pushed the pen and notebook off the bed and gripped the top of the mattress, pushing back against me. We writhed around like that for a bit, but I wasn’t ready to let him come just yet.

Pulling out, I yanked his hips up so that I could admire his used, perfect hole.

“Fuck, one of these days I’m gonna come inside you.” I said, wiping the slick from his skin before kissing and tonguing him.

He jumped, then sank against me, lowing as I breached him with my tongue again and again. His cock bounced and swayed, so I pulled it between his thighs to suck on it. As I slurped away, I reached forward, twisting on one nipple sucker, then the other.

“Gonna come,” he whined, and I sucked harder, loving the slide and pull of his sweat-slicked muscles.

He screamed into the pillow as he came, and I held every bit of cum in my mouth. I let him pull away, then dribbled his hot cum into his hole.

“Fuck, Em,” he cried out, hoarse and overworked.

I rose to my knees and thrust back inside him, loving the warm squish of it, even through the condom. With each thrust, more of his cum was forced out, so fucking dirty it brought me right to the edge. I couldn’t wait until it was my cum he was dripping with.

Groaning, I sped up, my brain on fire with the tight heat of his body. The orgasm slammed into me and I thrust through it, gritting out curses.

I sprawled on top of him, trapping him beneath me until I softened. Even as I pulled away to dispose of the condom in the bathroom, he lay flat out on the bed, a tiny smile on his face.

“What’re you smiling about?” I asked, making my way back to the bed with a washcloth. The cum dripping from his hole was too tempting, though, so I set aside the cloth and knelt to lick it clean. I fucking loved the way he squirmed under my thorough cleaning.

“Well, right now I’m smilin’ about how much you like to eat ass. But also, even though I’m too fucked out to move, those burritos smell fuckin’ delicious.”

I grimaced. “Sorry. You said you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but I couldn’t resist you.”

“I’m not complaining, big guy. I just might need help gettin’ up.”

I chuckled and gently helped him off the bed and into his lounge pants, which I decided should be for my viewing pleasure only. I tugged on my boxers and decided that was good enough. Palming his pretty ass through the thin material, I grabbed the tote bag with the burritos.

“Wanna take this outside? The stars are pretty tonight.”

His face took on a soft expression. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

We strolled out to the porch, where Bandit sat on the bench. Woody clicked his tongue and Bandit moved off with a huff.

“Oh, stop yer moanin’,” Woody said, leaning down to sink his fingers into the scruff of fur at Bandit’s neck. “Go on inside.”

Bandit glared at me—a family trait, I feared—and reluctantly made his way into the cabin. Woody and I then sat next to each other, and I said nothing as he rested his head on my shoulder. While he clearly enjoyed his solitude, it was accompanied by a shadow, something that seemed to follow him.

Maybe I was looking too much into things, but sitting next to him as the moon shone down on us felt good. Right . As if, maybe, I shed a little light into his dark places.

I dug the burritos out of the tote and handed him one. As skinny as he was, I’d assumed he didn’t eat much, but he downed the entire burrito, then looked on hungrily as I ate. I split the last half of my burrito with him, grinning as he took it down in three bites.

“You’re the kind of person who forgets to eat, aren’t you?”

He nodded, then wiped a bit of crema from his lips. “Happens sometimes. Rowdy is forever reminding me to eat.”

I rubbed my belly. “I never need to be reminded to eat. Hell, I’m usually thinking about my next meal during the meal I’m eating.”

He raised a brow. “Oh yeah? What’s your next meal?”

I reached out, and he automatically placed his hand in mine. Bringing his fingertips to my mouth, I nipped at them, replying, “You, hopefully.”

Shifting his hand, he pressed his thumb into my mouth. “Not gonna lie, I’ve already come, like, five times today and I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Me, too,” I said, thrilled to know that this thing between us was mutual.

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “This morning in the barn with you was so fucking hot?—”

“The hottest,” I said in full agreement. I paused, not sure if I had the balls to express what I really wanted.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

“I’m awfully lonely in that big house down there. Would you mind if I stayed over tonight?”

I sucked in my lips after that, anxious for his reply. He seemed surprised by the ask, but quickly answered, “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

He stood up from the bench and held out his hand. I took it, then stood toe to toe with him, loving how much bigger I felt compared to his spare body. The way his eyes traced over my shoulders and chest made me think he liked what I had to offer as well.

His hand still in mine, he led me into his cabin.

“You should know I sleep naked,” he said, as if to warn me.

“Me, too.” I fake-grimaced as I let my boxers drop to the floor and shimmied under the covers. “Not gonna lie, I’m probably about to get really handsy with you.”

“I like handsy,” he admitted softly, then slipped out of his lounge pants to join me. Without asking, he flipped to his side, inching back against me. I spooned him, nestling my soft, overused cock against his cool cheeks, bringing my palm to his chest to pull him in even more closely.

I took a deep breath and let it out slow, making a small moaning noise when my lips touched his shoulder. I couldn’t remember my skin against another man’s ever feeling this good.

“I normally don’t do this,” he said as he gripped my arm. It felt like a confession.

“Me either. Thank you for letting me hold you.”

We went silent after that and moments later he slipped into unconsciousness, his steady breathing music to my ears. I lay there for a long time, holding him, reveling in the feel of him against me, far too terrified to contemplate what all this meant.