11. Boston

CHAPTER 11

BOSTON

Getting out of my shoes, socks, and pants was like running on autopilot. I kept my underwear on because it felt weird for me to be naked and for Ford to be dressed, but when I reached for him, he grasped my wrist and stopped me dead in my tracks.

"I said the rest of it." His voice was rougher than usual, lower, more dangerous.

"Ford." My protest was weak, and I think we could both tell my heart wasn't really in it.

My heart was actually in my throat, threatening to choke me to death over the whole affair. I tried to swallow around it, and Ford guided my hand down to the waistband of my tight boxer briefs. I was already hard, had been for hours, and my cock pressed insistently at the stretchy cotton fabric that tried desperately to keep it at bay.

"I'm fairly certain you'll like it, sweetheart." He traced his finger along the inside of my wrist and then lightly across the point where my hip met the waistband of my underwear. Gooseflesh tore through me, and I swallowed my heart back into my chest.

"It's just a lot of being seen," I murmured, eyes rolling back at the tenderness of his fingers against my skin.

"Isn't that the point?" He took a step closer, trailing his hand up my ribs and over my chest until his fingers wrapped around the side of my neck. I leaned into his hold, happy for how grounding the closeness of him made me feel.

"I'm not sure of the point anymore," I admitted, but Ford cut off the sentiment by pressing his lips against mine.

The moan that left my mouth should have embarrassed me, but Ford must have liked it. He yanked me toward him, our chests crashing together, leaving me painfully aware of my nakedness against his clothing. Heat simmered in my stomach, annoyed that there were layers between us still when I'd been so looking forward to kissing him naked and being able to get my hands on him.

Ford nipped my lower lip, tilting my face toward the ceiling and kissing his way along the underside of my jaw. I realized he'd been right all along. I should have taken his clothes off like he'd asked and then we would have been one step closer to the thing I'd been daydreaming about all week. But, to be fair, more than once I'd let my mind wander to more than just kissing naked.

With a growl against the pulse point beneath my ear, Ford gave me a gentle shove back, effectively ending the kiss. I swayed on my feet, lips parted and still chasing after him for more.

"The rest of it," he repeated slowly, letting his hand slide down my chest. "And then, me."

I wasn't going to argue a second time with him. I shoved my underwear down so quickly that I stumbled, falling into his chest. Ford chuckled, wrapping his hands around my biceps to help me steady myself, but I was on him before he could move away. Tearing madly at the buttons of his shirt, the belt around his waist, I knew I should have taken it slower so I could catalogue and appreciate the maleness of him, but I was far too gone with arousal to care about any of that. Maybe when the newness of him had worn off…I'd make sure to remember it all before our time was through.

Beneath his tailored slacks, Ford wore a tight pair of black briefs with a geometric gold pattern around the waist. The fabric was soft and thick, but not anywhere near strong enough to contain the erection that had grown between his legs. He was big down there, probably bigger than me, but I wouldn't know for sure until I took his underwear off. They were the last scrap of material between us, and I glanced up, throat going dry at the hungry way Ford watched my fingers work across his skin.

"Slow. Down," he said quietly. "We have the rest of the night, Boston. I don't turn into sugar at midnight."

"I'm sorry, I just…"

"Kiss me," he said, and I did.

It was already easy to slant my head at the right angle so our mouths could cover as much real estate as possible, easy to part my lips and make way for his tongue to slide against mine to explore the backs of my teeth. He threaded his fingers through the hair at the base of my neck, steering my head to get his tongue even deeper into my mouth, and I finally found a hold of his waistband and shoved his underwear down to his thighs.

He shimmied his legs to get out of them entirely, then walked us backward to the bed, mouths still fused together. Fear curled around the base of my spine when the backs of my knees hit the bed, but Ford shifted so he landed on his back and I landed on top of him. This was a position I'd found myself in more than once, though generally with a smaller body beneath mine, and Ford had one throbbing addition that was very new to the experience.

His erection brushed against mine as I found a comfortable straddle over the top of him, and he groaned into my mouth so loudly that my bones rattled. This was really happening. I was kissing a man, I was naked with a man, and I was so fucking hard for this man I couldn't even think straight. I'd never done any of these things before, but my body screamed for more . My hips pumped, grinding down against Ford and chasing after friction to ease the ache in my cock. His hands came around my waist, curled tight into the dips of my hips.

"Kissing naked," he said against my mouth.

"We are."

" Just kissing naked," he said.

"I don't know if I can," I admitted, breaking away from the kiss and burying my face in the crook of his neck to catch my breath. It wasn't much better there. I'd only traded the lure of his mouth for the intoxicating scent of his skin, either of which was likely to be my end. But as I breathed against his neck, Ford relaxed his hold on my waist, petting his fingers up and down my sides, across my shoulders, down the swell of my back toward my ass and back up again.

"You have to, sweetheart," he whispered, kissing the side of my head where he could reach me.

Untangling myself from his arms, I flopped onto my back, tossing my glasses toward the nightstand with a sigh. I covered my face with both of my hands, but there was no escape. The smell of Ford was still in my nose, the heat of him burning hot against the outside of my arm. My cock twitched in the air, needy to get back to the warmth of Ford's thigh for some more friction. Ford rolled onto his side to face me, using the tip of his finger to draw swirls over my hip and the outside of my thigh. "You're gorgeous."

I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side. "So are you."

"No." He shook his head, a small smile dancing across his lips. "Truly, Boston. You're breathtaking and it's really fucking hard to take things slow with you."

"You don't have to go slow." The words were high-pitched, even to my own ears, and my cheeks burned with shame over my eagerness.

"Oh, sweetheart." Ford brought his hand to my face and dragged his finger across my cheekbone. "Not everything is for you."

He leaned back in again and kissed me. Softer that time, more cursory, like he'd never been inside of my mouth before. The kiss wasn't hurried, wasn't rushed, and I could have melted into the bed, melted into him, for how torturous it was. My body burned with a need that I'd never experienced before, synapses crossing and misfiring at every possible connection point.

My eyes fell closed and I pressed myself deeper into the kiss. Ford hooked his leg over my hip and pulled me against him, bringing back the smoldering heat of his cock against my thigh. I couldn't stop myself from pumping against his leg, which earned a smile and another soft kiss to the corner of my mouth .

"You can touch me, Boston," he rasped, and it wasn't until then that I realized I hadn't been.

With our mouths still slanted together, I gave myself leave to explore the hard angles of Ford's slender body. He was strong, the muscles pulled taut beneath his skin and quivering, like it took work for him to stay still beneath my touch. I propped myself up, changing the angle of the kiss so I could work my hands up his ribs and his stomach. Against the tips of my fingers, his nipple hardened, and the groan he loosed in response to my touch was low enough to vibrate my bones.

It was the sexiest thing I'd ever heard in my life.

I levered myself back on top of him, feeling far bolder and less afraid than before. I turned my attention to the swell of his biceps, dragging his arms up over his head so I could reach every exposed inch of muscle and skin on him. When I reached his wrists, I gave an experimental press down into the sheets, and Ford growled, moving faster than I'd ever seen and flipping me onto my back.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, sweetheart," he chided, tearing his mouth away from mine and kissing my cheek, my chin, my jaw, down my throat and up my neck. My hips bucked off the bed, and I was helpless to control my own body. When Ford touched me, when he kissed me, licked me, my body responded like he was talking directly to my cells and my nerve endings. Every place he touched me sizzled, and I wanted more than anything for his fire to consume me entirely.

"I can't help it."

He licked a hot stripe from the dip of my throat to the underside of my chin.

"I need you to try harder," he whispered. "I'm not a good man, Boston. Please don't give me the chance to prove that to you."

Ford kissed my lips, then dropped his forehead against mine, breathing heavy. I could feel every inhale. When his stomach expanded, his weight bore down on me and when he exhaled, I could breathe again. An embarrassing amount of precum had leaked out of my cock, smeared against my stomach and Ford's.

With surprisingly steady hands against his hips, I settled under his weight and closed my eyes. His cock jerked and twitched against me, every move drawing some new and guttural noise from the back of his throat. I could taste the tension with every breath against my cheek, and I slid my hands up his back, appreciating the planes of his shoulders and the muscles there.

"I'm trying," I promised.

Ford nodded, rolling his forehead across mine before pushing himself up so his hands were pressed flat against the bed on either side of my head. He stared down at me, the dark pools of his eyes nearly indecipherable. Maybe it was because I wasn't wearing my glasses, but I was certain there were answers there that I simply wasn't seeing.

"I know."

Ford kissed the tip of my nose and rolled onto his back. I looked down my chest, finding both of our cocks hard and long, pointing toward the ceiling. Ford's was longer than mine, but not as thick, with a bit of a curve near the base. I fisted the sheets to stop myself from reaching for it, the tug of the high thread count material not going unnoticed. Ford raised his ass, giving me more fabric to gather between my shaking fingers.

"What are your initial thoughts?" he asked, sounding like we were negotiating a business contract, not orgasms or my exploration of the male form.

I swallowed, blinking his ceiling into focus.

Even though my interest and fascination with men was new, I really hadn't thought too hard about the mechanics of being intimate with a man. I understood it would be different in some ways, similar in others. And when I'd propositioned Ford to let me learn on him, I hadn't been thinking toward what the last lesson would be. I knew there would be kissing and touching and, in the back of my head, I knew there would also be sex, but I hadn't put together just how badly I wanted that until I'd felt the heavy press of Ford's body against mine.

"I think I want to do a lot more than just kiss you naked," I admitted.

Ford huffed out a laugh that sounded like it died somewhere in the back of his throat. I exhaled until my lungs collapsed and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I was afraid of that."