Page 65 of Say It Again
“Are you listening to me?” He scraped his fingers through Aaron’s hair and down his back. Europeans probably did that kind of thing too? “I said it’s not what we’re doing.”
“So, am I leaving?” Aaron sounded out of breath and confused.
“Yes, duh.” His words were muffled by Aaron’s lips. “I’d clearly like you to go.”
“It’s not really that clear—”
“Go!” He shoved Aaron away.
Aaron grunted when he staggered backward, his back hitting the railing. At least he was smiling, even if he was a bit flustered. “Damn, all right. I’m leaving.”
Daniel thrashed his arms in the air and nodded like it was about to be outlawed. “Finally!”
They both stood frozen for a beat, breathing sharply. Aaron took one step toward his car.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Daniel crashed into him.
If he was going to be an unbalanced human, he might as well be the kind of unbalanced human that threw caution to the wind, and if this was going to be his decision, then it might as well be the kind of decision he made with his whole body on hyperdrive.
He consumed Aaron with everything he had as orris butter, expensive suede, and the neighbor’s honeysuckle all crowded his senses. He spun around and struggled to unlock his door—stupid door with its stupid sticky key—the gorgeous stallion of a man behind him not helping. With his hands tracing all over Daniel’s body and his mouth glued to his neck with unspeakable skill, it was enough to make a guy scream.
Aaron’s tongue lashed around his ear, and maybe he did scream, because the lock finally gave up in fear that Daniel would destroy it with his bare hands.
He flung the door open, and there was a moment when time seemed to freeze. Well, not freeze so much as it patiently waited for them to catch up, to get into position—Daniel’s legs hopped around Aaron’s waist; Aaron’s hands cradling him in the tightest, juiciest kiss—as someone slammed the door closed but no one turned on lights and so they both rammed into a runner table, then an armchair, trying not to laugh as that interrupted the kissing and the kissing was already out of proportion.
It was Daniel’s fault. He was done with civilized. He wanted it rough and mindless, like a drunk sorority girl—all needy tongue and no tact. Aaron seemed to be fine with rough and mindless, because he pounded Daniel into the doorframe of the bedroom. “Shit! Sorry.”
Okay, maybe that was an accident. Just like the something that fell from somewhere with a clunk and rolled across the floor. Daniel managed to flick on a lamp as he chuckled against Aaron’s lips, his chuckle transforming into a squeal when he hurtled through the air, landing on his back in the bed.
“How is your room”—Aaron hurried his shirt off in a chaotic heave that got stuck over his face—“this messed-up already?”
“Shh, ignore that.” Daniel slid from the bed like a Slinky and hit his knees. He worked Aaron’s belt loose and his jeans down his legs.
“I don’t underst….” Aaron trailed off, twisting to gaze around the room. “Like. I just cleaned it.”
Daniel took his time with the underwear. Wouldn’t want to hurt what he was working hard to see. So hard. Deliciously hard. “Look at you.”
“Did you have a party after I left or something?”
“Watch me.”
Aaron’s gaze zipped down to him as a hand gently twisted into his curls.
“You like the way I move, mister? You need to watch me.” He stroked Aaron, a bit mesmerized as he tasted the tip. “Watch me fucking dazzle.”
Aaron looked just how Daniel would’ve pictured, fully naked: flawless. He was perfectly sized for his frame and centerfoldworthy with the muscles that cut their way around his stomach, stretching all that honeyed skin tight. The messy room must’ve lost its place on the list of Aaron’s concerns, because blue ice never left Daniel as he invited Aaron into his mouth. Sweet and soft, sweet and soft, sweet and soft. Slow, slow, slow. For a while.
Until it wasn’t.
He had a technique. It was a whole thing that brought the boys to the yard, and Aaron suddenly wobbled on his feet, his hands sort of hovering in the air like he didn’t know what to do with them as he grunted, “Holy.”
Yes, sir. Holy. Holy mackerel. Holy hell. Holy head. Daniel didn’t need vocal encouragement to lavishly apply himself, but it didn’t hurt that Aaron was falling apart under his command. It was kind of cute that his body jerked the way it did as he struggled to stay upright, supporting his weight on the bedframe, cursing under his breath.
It also didn’t hurt that he tasted just like he smelled: expensive.
Rich velveteen suede and lush orris butter. Fuck, Daniel would swallow with pleasure. He hadn’t really eaten much today….
“Holy—stop!”