Page 20 of Light Me Up

I think it’s probably best to back off from each other for the rest of the day. When we have to fuck around in secret again, when we return to those quick and dirty hookups, it’ll be easier to wrap my head around the reality of being short-term, secret fuck buddies.

But we dance around it all morning. His eyes burn into me, and I can feel his presence on a cellular level. It's like there are tinymagnets all over my skin that prickle when he's near, and pull me to his side. While we're picking up the house and putting everything back to normal, folding all the extra sheets we went through this weekend, the tension is palpable.

Every time I pass him in the hall, I can feel the heat of his body too close to mine. There are constant little touches, brushes of his hand over my arm or my waist. Without thinking about it, I reach up and brush his hair back or scratch the beard growing in. Then we realize what we're doing, and the fact that we have to go back to behaving like normal people, and pull back.

It happens again when Henry decides to make us lunch. We're putzing around the pool, fully clothed by some unspoken agreement, because if either of us so much as takes a sock off, we both know it'll be on.

"Do you want to get out of here, go get something to eat?" I ask, thinking that maybe spending some time in public might help cool us down.

"What do you want to have?"

You.

"I'm a simple man, Henry. I'll eat anything, but there are bonus points if anything involves bread and cheese."

A grin spreads across his face. "Let me take you to a place I know that has the absolute best grilled cheese sandwich you've ever eaten."

"That sounds perfect," I say, my stomach growling at the prospect.

Henry takes me by the hand and leads me into the kitchen, where he starts pulling out all kinds of ingredients.

"Uh…What's happening?"

"Has Michael never told you about my famous grilled cheese?"I shake my head, and he gasps. "For shame."

Leaning against the kitchen island, I watch Chef Perfect Man prepare the fanciest grilled cheese I've ever experienced. He swats me with a hand towel when I steal a piece of bacon, and so many slices of apple that he has to cut up another. I even make a joke about coconut oil being a great lube.

I'm getting a kick out of bothering him while he's being all domestic, but if the heart-eyes and laughter are any indicators, I don't think he really minds. As much as we've tried to back off today, in preparation for Mike being home this afternoon, we're still surrounded by a heady bubble of lust. It's like humidity, sticking to us like a second skin.

Instead of sitting down at the table, Henry takes the sandwiches off the pan and puts them directly on a cutting board. He halves one and lifts it up to my mouth to taste. The cheese stretches from my mouth when I take a bite, and Henry catches it in his own mouth, licking my bottom lip in the process. We both step back and stare at each other for a beat, because it's clear he didn't mean for it to happen. My chest heaves with need, and his eyes are burning into me, several shades darker than usual.

"Fuck it," I say, surging forward. Henry meets me halfway, cupping both sides of my face and crashing our mouths together. The kiss leaves my lips raw and bruised, and I gasp as he trails nips and kisses down my throat.

We move without thinking. Henry grips my thighs and lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist. I absentmindedly grab the coconut oil off the island as he carriesme to the table and sits me down, keeping his mouth fused to mine until he's settled between my thighs and we're writhing and dry humping each other. My hands push under his shirt, raking my nails against his sides.

"I want you," he growls against my neck. "I need you."

Yanking at his belt, I pull him in closer and slip my hand in the back of his pants, teasing the crack of his ass. At the same time, he opens the fly of my jeans and palms my achingly hard cock. It twitches in his hold, already leaking pre-cum. Feeling frenzied, I unbuckle his pants with my free hand, pushing them down so they fall around his ankles. I press our cocks together, and we stroke them in tandem.

"Fuck, I love everything about you. I can't stand this," I say, my emotions and my arousal overriding my better judgement.

"God, me either. I don't want to let you go." He sounds anguished. "Ian, I need you inside me."

I push him back roughly, tearing my shirt over my head and dropping my jeans. He follows suit, bending over the table and presenting that perfect ass to me. I reach for the jar of coconut oil, scooping some out with my fingers and pushing it into his ass with two fingers. His back arches and he hisses, but he pushes back, fucking himself on my fingers. I add a third, trying to take the time to stretch and prime him properly, but he's not having it.

"Now, Ian," he barks.

With a large handful of rapidly melting coconut oil, I quickly lube up my cock and line up to his entrance. I'm too worked up to hesitate or go slow and gentle, but the way he pushesback wouldn't allow for it, anyway. I surge into him mercilessly, pulling back and pounding into him with quick, rough thrusts.

Grunting, I flatten his chest against the table and grip onto those delectable love-handles to use as God intended. “God Fucking Damnit, I want to live inside this ass. You feel so good.”

"Nmmmmfffff. Oh God, Ian, right there. Harder, baby! Oh fuck, oh fuck?—"

We're grunting and panting like animals. The room fills with the sounds of me rutting into him like some kind of beast, filthy words falling from my mouth.

"That's right, Daddy. You take it so good?—"

And that's how Mike finds us.

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