Page 59 of Rock Bottom

Exactly the reaction I’d been hoping for. He was too perfect. The only problem was I couldn’t see his face thanks to the apron, but I didn’t mind that much. The apron added a slightly kinky layer to the blowjob, almost like I was doing it blindfolded. That wasn’t normally my thing, but with Church…There was very little I wasn’t willing to introduce him to.

I took my time, teasing the head of his cock until it was bright red and leaking onto my tongue. Only then did I swallow him further, and there was a lot of him. It took some strategic maneuvering on my part to take him to the back of my throat and swallow around him a few times before coming up for air. When I did, Church tore the apron away. He looked down at me with a mix of raw lust and wonder in his eyes. Maybe he’d never gotten a decent blowjob before. A pity. Everyone deserved good sex. I still couldn’t believe he’d gone almost two decades without any. Luckily, I was pretty sure he’d be willing to make up for lost time.

I held his gaze as I went back to licking, teasing, and occasionally sucking all of him down, shamelessly being as loud and messy about it as possible. Spit and pre-cum dripped down his shaft and balls. I swiped some of it away with a thumb before closing my hand around his full balls and massaging gently. They were already drawn up tight, and I could feel his cock throbbing against my tongue. He had to be close.

Come on, kitten. Give it up.

“Dante…” His hips moved ever so slightly away from the fridge, chasing the retreat of my mouth. I put a hand on him to still him and sped my pace. “Dante…Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck!”

His muscles trembled, and he cried out, spilling onto my tongue. I kept sucking him, swallowing down every drop, until he pushed me back by the shoulders. Breathing hard, Church stared down at me with a wild, half-feral look. I stood and claimed his lips in a rough kiss, sliding my tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of himself and pulled me tighter against him. Frantic hands slid down the front of my sweats. One of Church’s massive fists closed around my cock.

“Fuuuuck.” I panted and shoved my sweats down so I could watch his hand slide up and down my cock. “Yeah, you want that? Bet you want it inside you, huh? I can’t wait. You’re going to feel so good, kitten. Fuck, play with my balls a little. That’s a good boy. Now, kiss me.”

“You’re so bossy,” he mumbled, but did it anyway.

Our tongues tangled and he let me fuck into his fist, moaning like a whore. I was a whore. I’d been with so many men and women over the last few years that I didn’t even count anymore, but none of them could compare to the special spark I felt when I was with Church. I didn’t know what it was yet that made things different with him, but it didn’t feel like a chore. This couldn’t be a one and done situation. The more I was around him, the more I wanted him. Even this wouldn’t be enough. I knew that going in. Something in me craved something in him.

Maybe that was my addiction talking. I could be replacing one addiction with another, but I didn’t care. I needed this, needed him, needed to feel whatever it was he was making me feel. I was ravenous for it. And not just the physical pleasure he was giving me. Every shy smile, every blush, every small act of service felt like a gift, one I wanted to hoard.

Church cupped my face with his free hand and tilted it up for another kiss. The taste of him, so salty and sweet, was finally what sent me over the edge. My hips jerked and I groaned, coming hard enough that it left me lightheaded and weak. I’d have collapsed if he wasn’t there to hold me up.

I let my head fall forward into his chest with a grunt, fighting to catch my breath. “God, I needed that so bad. Are you okay?”

“You’re asking me when you’re the one who can barely stand up?”

I smiled and rubbed my nose deeper into his chest hair. “You smell good.”

“I smell like sex and pancakes.”

“My new favorite smell.” I didn’t see him roll his eyes, but I heard the sigh that often accompanied him doing that and chuckled. “Okay. Now that my brain works a little better…” I pulled my sweats up and peeled my shirt off, doing my best to clean us both off.

“I hope you’re happy. The last four pancakes are ruined,” he grumbled, peering into the pan.

“Eh, I had all the batter I wanted, anyway.” I winked and gave his bare butt a swat. “Now you’d better go get some pants on before Nina gets here.”

Church’s phone rang. He frowned at it, so I snatched it off the counter and answered it for him.

“Church’s undercover confessional and casino. You sin, we win. How can I direct your call?”

“Give me that.” Church snatched the phone out of my hand and hit the speaker button. “You’re on speaker, Bowie.”

“Was that your boyfriend? Glad to hear he’s feeling better,” came Bowie’s voice through the phone.

“Much better now than ten minutes ago,” I added with a smirk.

Church glared at me and mouthed for me to shut up. “Did you find out anything new about Oscar?”

“We did. The social security number he gave to Merry Maids was a fake. Belongs to a pensioner in Jersey. I ran his name through all the usual databases and got nothing, so I called in a favor to a PI friend and passed his picture along. Turns out Oscar's real name is Eric Osmond. Last known address is in Stockton, California, but that was a while ago. He travels a lot, too. Ran up his credit cards with hotel bills in Baltimore, Atlanta, Saint Louis, Detroit…”

I frowned. “In that order?”

There was the sound of paper rustling and a brief hesitation before Bowie said, “Yeah. That important?”

I met Church’s worried gaze. “The last tour After Atom did, we hit those cities in that order. Next was…”

“Denver and Seattle,” Bowie finished.

I suddenly felt dizzy again and had to sit down. Every city I’d been in over the last year, he’d been there too. That couldn’t be coincidence. How long had he been stalking me?

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