21
Confessions of An Aftershave Thief
TJ
Wet clothes on your skin are not arousing. After a quick walk in the rain, we head up the five floors in our building, our shoes squeaking on each step.
Once we’re in the flat, I pull him against me. Slide my hands through his damp hair. More honesty comes out when I say, “I want you naked. Want to do everything to you.”
“Like what?”
I whisper filthy plans in his ear, then, since it’s best to get this out in the open now, just in case we’re not compatible in bed, I finish with, “And I really want to fuck you, Jude.”
I wait, hoping he wants me that same way.
A breath staggers from his lips, and then he gives a slow, naughty nod. “Then you really should fuck me, TJ,” he says, squeezing my hard-on like he’s checking the evidence. “Since it’s clear how much you want to.”
He smirks. The fucker smirks, then peels off his shirt, throws it on the floor, and heads to the bathroom, tossing me a come-and-get-it glance.
I follow him without question, unbuttoning my wet shirt, leaving it on a pile on the floor, then setting my phone on the table. Once he’s in the bathroom, he unzips his jeans, but taking them off looks painful. They literally squeak. They’re so wet.
“I’ll help you,” I say.
“Please do. That’s really sexy,” Jude says, laughing.
But when I sink to my knees and tug the cold, wet denim down his hips, he moans in appreciation. “Actually, it’s ridiculously sexy with you like that, TJ.”
With a smile I can’t hide, I work his jeans down to his knees, then his ankles, watching his face. He grabs hold of the edge of the vanity, hopping for a second, nearly stumbling. I grab his hip to steady him.
“That was the hottest I’ve ever been, right?” he asks with another laugh.
I press a kiss to his hip with a soft murmur. His skin is cold, but I’m going to fire him up. “Yes, this is the hottest you’ve ever been because you’re getting naked for me.”
His grin burns off. “Been wanting to for so long.”
We set a record as I help him get his jeans off the rest of the way.
I’m shaking with so much lust, so much anticipation as I check out his boxer briefs and the generous bulge behind them.
But also, the color. “Yellow. Your underwear is the color of the shower curtain,” I say, eating up this secret like it’s candy.
“I told you I like color.”
“You really fucking do,” I say, my fingers trembling with wicked eagerness as I pull them down till his cock says hello.
My breath hitches. “Fuck, your dick is nice,” I say in the understatement of the century. His cock is as beautiful as the rest of him.
“Bet it tastes better than nice,” he says, threading a hand through my wet hair and guiding me closer as I push his briefs off the rest of the way.
My mouth waters. I wrap my hands around his ass and dip my head to his cock, swirling my tongue over the head.
The first heady taste of him lights up all the neon signs in my brain. The ones that say touch him, taste him, please him.
“Very, very nice,” I whisper as I kiss the tip.
“Incredibly nice,” he agrees, his voice thick with arousal even though I’m barely flicking my tongue along the crown of his cock.
Pride surges in me because I’ve longed to make Jude feel incredible, and now I’m doing it as I swirl my tongue down his length and curl my hands around his spectacular ass. He hums melodically in delight, and he’s practically singing with pleasure already. But there’s still one problem. His skin is cold and wet from the rain. I give a sturdy suck of his dick, hauling him deep and savoring the salty, musky taste, then pop off.
I stand up quickly, slap his cold ass. “That was the point of the shower. I want you all hot and bothered.”
“Oh, I am. Trust me. I am.”
“Get in there,” I say, grabbing the shower curtain, holding it open.
He hops in then turns the faucet on. Water spews everywhere, this time from the tap instead of the showerhead.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says.
“This shower has the world’s worst parts. Hold on,” I say as I spin around and head to the kitchen and grab the tools. I’m back in seconds flat holding the wrench.
Jude leans against the sink. His feet crossed at the ankles, and his hands pressed together in prayer. “I was such a good boy this year, and Santa is giving me a Christmas present early.”
I laugh as I fix the tap.
Jude stares shamelessly at me, stroking his cock as I work the wrench.
“Yes, TJ, I have such a handyman fetish,” he says.
“You really fucking do.” And I love that I’m the lucky beneficiary.
Once I set down the wrench, Jude proves it, pouncing on me, tugging at my jeans.
Soon, we’re both down to nothing, and when he sets his eyes on my naked body for the first time, I feel like a king. He doesn’t seem to know where to look, except everywhere. His hungry eyes eat up my chest and stomach, and my dick, standing at attention for him.
“You,” he says, all low and husky. “You are just . . . all my fantasies.”
That’s what tonight is. A fantasy. Nothing more.
I don’t want to ponder too much on tomorrow—think about where this is going. If I do, the gears in my head will get stuck on the only answer—we’re going nowhere.
Currently, though, we’re on a path to the bedroom, and I want to savor every second of the trip.
Starting now.
I pull him into the shower. As the bathroom heats up and steam wafts around us, we make out like crazy.
Tongues, teeth, bodies. My hand wraps around his cock, and he grabs mine, and we both groan in tandem.
He slides a hand up and down my length like he’s weighing my cock. Then he dips his face against my neck, presses a hot kiss to my skin. “I have to tell you a secret,” he rasps out.
Hot and bothered?
More like molten and aching everywhere.
“Tell me,” I demand.
He kisses my chin. My jaw. Then he draws a deep breath, inhaling me. “Your aftershave . . . I sniffed it the other day.”
“On me?” I ask, shuddering as my hand coasts along his hard length. He does the same to me, and with his other hand, cups my balls.
Ah, fuck, that’s good.
Letting go, I grab his hips and hold on for dear life as he toys with my dick and my mind.
He presses a slow, hot kiss to my lips, then whispers against them, “I steal hits of you whenever I can if I walk past you. If I get close enough.”
I don’t even know how to process this dirty confession. It’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me. It’s the sexiest thing anyone has ever said in the history of sex.
“You want to know what else I do, TJ?” His voice is pure arousal.
“Yes.” It comes out like a plea. It is a plea.
“Sometimes, I come in here when I’m alone in the flat. I open the bottle. Inhale the scent, close my eyes,” he says, stroking me slow and sensual to the rhythm of his words.
This is unreal.
I ache everywhere for him.
I don’t know how he does it, how he turns the tables. I’m supposed to be the writer, and he just told me the most erotic bedtime story ever.
“Do you jack off picturing me?” I’m not sure how I can even form the words to ask anything, but I’ve got to know the answer.
“I like to imagine getting down on my knees and sucking your cock.”
I. Can’t. Think.
I can only do.
Pushing his hand off me, I spin him around, shove him against the wall, and plant a bruising kiss on his lush lips. “But it’s your turn, Jude.”
Then I get down on my knees again, and I swallow his cock.
“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck.” Jude grabs my head, yanks me against him. My face is up against his pubic bone, and his dick is down my throat, and I am so fucking turned on. I need to wind him up now. I have to show him I can make him feel spectacular. So, I give him even more. I slide a hand between his legs, press a finger against his ass.
He grips my hair. “You can’t do that.”
I believe in listening to a lover, so I ease off, slowly and torturously, my tongue flicking over the head as I go. “Which part? This?” I ask innocently, then tease at his hole with my finger, pushing the pad inside again. “Or that?” I ask as I draw the head of his cock between my lips once more.
A tremble racks his body. “All of it. I’ll come on your face in seconds, but I really want to come on your chest.”
There he goes again. Taking control.
We’re dried off and in his room in two minutes flat.
When he falls snow-angel style on the bed, I’m pretty sure the only thing I’m going to ponder for the rest of the night is how to make him lose his mind.
I kneel between his thighs, spread them apart, and reach for the lube on his nightstand.
I’ve only thought about this five thousand times, and still I’m jittery, like it’s my first time having sex.
But it’s my first time with Jude, and that’s all that matters.
Maybe the first of many times with him?
Nope. Can’t go there, won’t go there.
As I drizzle lube on my palm, I meet his gaze. “Show me what you look like when you’re getting off to me.”
Jude grabs his cock, stroking it for me.
I could watch him all night. I could stay in this front-row seat to his one-man sex show.
But it’s not a solo production. We’re in this scene together, and when I press a finger against his entrance, his mouth falls open. I slide my finger a little deeper.
“Yes, fucking yes,” he moans, and my God, Jude is so expressive. It’s a gift to touch him, to be the man to earn these sounds.
He grips his cock tighter, twists his wrist.
I add another finger, crook both. His entire body jumps. And the best part?
He can’t speak anymore. There are no more filthy confessions. He just grunts and groans, jerks and tugs as I open him up.
Then, everything happens in a red-hot blur. Jude bats my hand away, rises, and grabs a condom from the nightstand. “Lie down so I can ride your dick.”
I thought I was in control. I thought I was topping him. But when I shift to my back, and he rolls the protection down my shaft, then straddles me, I know that was a lie I told myself.
I am only ever pretending to be in charge. He’s got me in his hands.
All I can do is let him weave his magic.
And holy hell, Jude is magic as he presses my cock to his ass, then as he guides me inside.
His face is etched with intensity from the initial invasion. His jaw is tight, his mouth a straight line. Then, he lets out a sexy gasp, his gorgeous mouth parting as he sinks onto my dick with a heady groan.
“Yes, yes, yes,” he murmurs, his eyes falling shut.
I can’t look away.
When he takes me all the way, I’m not sure I can withstand the pleasure of fucking him.
But I’m willing to try.
I wait for him to give me a sign, letting him adjust. His shoulders relax, then his hands brace on my pecs. When he opens his eyes, those blue irises gleam with wicked delight. He bends closer to my face, his breath coasting over me. “Fuck me now,” he demands.
Don’t have to tell me twice.
I thrust up, pumping my hips, driving into him.
He fucks me right back, riding my cock, working his hips.
Soon, I don’t know who’s setting the pace or who’s keeping the rhythm. But it doesn’t matter. We’re both in this. For several fantastic filthy minutes, we screw like that. He rides me, and I drive into him. We sweat and groan and get lost in each other.
When he wraps a hand around his length, stroking hard and fast, my mind spins faster.
I won’t last much longer—not when he’s jerking his cock with such purpose. Not when his potent need is written in every twist of his wrist, every swivel of his hips.
“Do it,” I urge. “Come on my chest.”
Seconds later, he growls and shoots all over me. Those neon signs in my brain go haywire. They light up the night sky.
I’m this close to the edge, and there’s only one more thing I crave.
In seconds, I roll him, switching positions, so he’s under me. Pushing his knees up to his chest, I sink back inside him. Jude slides his hands up my back and into my hair. “Kiss me,” he demands like he knew why I did this.
Of course, he knew.
He knows I try to be in control.
He knows I want to kiss him when I come.
Smashing my lips to his, I fuck him hard as I chase my release.
I could drown in his kisses. Maybe I will tonight as pleasure consumes every cell in my body, and Jude fills all of my mind, till I reach the edge, gasping a string of orgasm-fueled curses as I come. For a minute, maybe more, my mind goes blank, spinning into a haze of bliss. And then, as my brain comes back online, into one shockingly stark awareness.
There is no a little crazy for him.
I’m just plain crazy for Jude, and I’m pretty sure all these emotions will devastate me.
And I won’t do a thing to stop the ruin.