Page 17 of Off the Clock
“Gladly.” He pulled me in for another kiss and another after that, each kiss melting into the next as he stroked our cocks with a perfect rhythm. He’d quickly caught on to the fun friction of my foreskin. Not quite docking, but he’d sure figured out how to maximize our pleasure. Our kissing turned more frantic, sloppy, my hands clutching at him, his free hand on my ass, urging me to move.
“There.” My loudest moan yet broke free from my throat. I never wanted this to end, yet I was powerless to stop the freight train of my orgasm. No brakes. No engineer. Just pure speed and sensation, right over the edge of the mountain. “There. Please. God. Yes.”
My speech was reduced to a breathless babble as my cock surged up into his fist, the first spurt almost painfully hard, followed quickly by a sharp pleasure that took long, glorious seconds to mellow out.
“You’re…spectacular. Fuck.” True to his word, Tony had watched me, but the second I grinned down at him, dopey, orgasmic bliss making me laugh, he resumed stroking, using my come as lube for several rough pulls. “Fuck. Caleb.”
If I’d had any doubts that I had a crush, the sound of my name on his lips as he came would have sealed the deal. He yanked me down for another kiss, this one sort of a thank you, an acknowledgment that we’d shared something…well,specialsounded far more romantic than whatever this way. Andintimatewas far too formal a term.Magical.That was it.
Perhaps I’d been under a spell when I’d said yes to him because God knew magic infused every kiss and touch between us. This electrical pull we shared had to be some sort of dark wizardry.
“How about now?” I asked huskily. “Still got questions?”
He blinked, eyes still foggy with pleasure. “Dozens. Definitely not convinced I’m bi or pan or whatever.” His laugh said otherwise. “And absolutely still…curious.Gonna need to test a bunch more…options.”
I laughed along with him, then sobered. “We can’t.”
“I know.” But he didn’t let me return to my seat. Instead, he held me close so our heads rested together. “I know.”
We both knew all the reasons we absolutely positively couldn’t make this a repeat thing. We were coworkers. We already liked each other an alarming amount for one dude with no time for relationships and another determined to avoid them at all cost. We’d cracked open a box we both knew better than to mess with, but could either of us keep our hands to ourselves now that we knew exactly how good this could be?
Chapter Nine
Tony
“So I guess I’m officially bi now.” I leaned back in the wooden chair at my sister’s kitchen table, fiddling with the label on my beer bottle. She and my brother-in-law had fancy West Coast taste in beer, some microbrewery out of Bend that I hadn’t heard of. I wasn’t drunk by any means, but I was loose. My face was warm, my body content to be hanging in Angel’s cozy home, the distant sound of teens gaming in the living room a pleasant soundtrack. After days of wanting to talk to someone, anyone, my sister was as good a choice as any.
“Since when were you not?” Angel didn’t seem remotely surprised at my admission, giving me the sort of pointed look that made me forget I was the older one.
“What do you mean?” I frowned only to earn a vague gesture from Angel, who waved her beer around like the answer was obvious. “You made the assumption based on my choice of friends?”
She wouldn’t be the first person to assume that because I had gay friends like Eric and Jonas, and now Sean, that I mustbe some flavor of queer myself. But I’d expected better than stereotypical presumptions from my little sister.
“Heck, you’ve even met women I’ve dated,” I added, voice sharper than it needed to be.
“Who you date doesn’t make you any more or less bi.” Angel snorted. “No, Tony, I made the assumption based on your set of eyeballs. And mine.”
I made a scoffing noise, but she grinned smugly as she crossed her arms over her ample chest. Like me, she had the olive skin and dark hair of our Italian ancestors, but with a stockier Irish build, more like the mother neither of us could remember much.
“You definitely notice way more men than your average straight boy. I just assumed—yes, assumed—that your days in the barracks were filled with hot man-on-man action you weren’t telling me about.”
“Hardly.” I snorted. I liked to think I’d been more subtle about what caused my gaze to linger, but apparently not. Which shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it kind of was. I was still working on distancing my thoughts from the hyper-macho environment of the Rangers, where it mattered how others perceived me. I forced myself to soften my tone. “I casually dated any number of women. No other action.”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Never Serious about anyone. Not surprised you’re just now getting around to telling your favorite sister you’re bi.”
“I don’t do serious.” I gave a weary sigh. I’d rather talk more about my transition from maybe-bi to oh-my-God-definitely-bi than resurrect this tired discussion of why I should give love a chance. “Relationships are a crap shoot at best. Look at our parents. Toxic from the get-go, and a lot of innocent people bore the fallout.”
“Or you could look at Ed and me.”
“He’s a good guy,” I allowed. “But just because you got a lucky roll with him doesn’t make relationships a good idea forme. The more committed you are to someone, the more you stand to lose.”
“Said like someone who will be happy with half of an ice-cold bed at sixty.”
I grimaced. “How about I get through my forties first?”
“Okay, old man.” Angel laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “So what brought on this sudden need to announce your bi-ness? Juicy hookup I should know about?”
“Nah,” I lied, waving a hand in the same manner she’d used earlier. “Just…thinking.”