Page 7 of Winning the Dad

Many of my younger gay friends were on PrEP so they could go bare, but I couldn’t do it. I’d been a gay teenager and, later, a young man at the height of the AIDS crisis, and I remembered the horrifying images of men reduced to skeletons, dying alone because no one dared to come close. It had scarred me, and I never went without condoms. Ever. The one exception had been Justin—and fuck, that had been a huge mistake. The only STD I’d ever had was because of his infidelity, something I’d never forgive him for.

“Everything okay?” Jack asked.

Damn, he really was paying close attention. I’d have to keep that in mind. “Yes, yeah. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’m excited.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “That sounded like you were trying to convince yourself.”

I laughed. “Jesus, Jack, I hardly recognize myself. You make me forget all my words. Usually, I’m a smooth talker, but not with you.”

“I make you nervous, huh?” His mouth pulled up in a cheeky grin.

“You do.”

“Is it weird that I like that I make you nervous?”

“I can see why. It tells you you’re different, special. Not many men would object to that.”

“True.”

I dabbed the last droplets of water off my chest. “Aren’t you nervous? I mean, this is your first time with a man.”

Jack hung his towel over the rack. “A little tense, I guess, because I want to do it right. Bring you pleasure.”

“I doubt you’ll have to worry about that, but just so you know, I’m perfectly capable of telling you what I want.”

Jack chuckled. “Isn’t that what they call a power bottom?”

“Call it whatever you want, but good communication is the key to great sex.”

And now I was lecturing instead of kissing him senselessly. What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to get my priorities straight. Why Jack made me so goddamn nervous, I wasn’t sure, but I’d have to find a way to push through it.

I held out my hands, and he took them, returning my smile. “Let’s get into bed.”

“Sounds like a great plan.”

But I wanted to have more than his hands in mine. I wanted to explore that fabulous body of his, so as soon as he stretchedout on the bed next to me, that was exactly what I did. Every time he moved his arms, his biceps rippled, which was incredibly sexy. So was the fur on his chest, and I ran my fingers through it. Manscaping wasn’t his thing, but I loved his natural look. His nipples hid between the dark hairs, but I found them anyway.

A gentle pinch and Jack let out a surprised moan, so I repeated the action with a little more force. He liked that. I rolled the little buds between my thumb and index finger, and he squirmed on the bed.

He didn’t have a six-pack, not even close, but that little bit of roundness on his belly only made him look stronger. I ran my hands all over it, all over him, loving his reactions. He wasn’t holding back, something I appreciated from my lovers.

His pubes weren’t trimmed either. I usually preferred guys who kept it short and tidy, but it fit Jack. In truth, it made his fat cock stand out perfectly. He wasn’t that long, but he had spectacular girth. God, that would feel amazing.

I ran my finger down his length, swiping off the pearl of precum at the tip. Of course I licked it off my finger. He swallowed, his brown eyes dark. “Taste good?”

“Amazing.”

His balls were full and heavy in my hands, and when I rolled them, he hissed. “They’re sensitive.”

“Good to know.”

His thighs were tree trunks, thick and powerful, and the mental image of those wrapped around me made my mouth run dry. I ran my fingers over the scars on his right knee.

“Tore my ACL four years ago,” he said. “Slipped on a spilled drink in my bar. Hurt like a mother.”

“I bet.” I pointed at my left shoulder. “Eight years ago, I tore my rotator cuff while playing in a charity baseball game. Never knew how painful that was.” I winced. “Almost got me hooked on opioids.”

“Those things are the devil. After a week, I told my surgeon I’d tough it out on regular painkillers. That shit was too dangerous.”

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