Page 64 of Don't Point at the Moon

“Sammi was asking where—”

“Shut up and kiss me,” said Tommy, reaching over and grabbing Mitchell, ignoring the taxi driver’s attention.

* * * *

Tommy’s apartment sat in a modern block on the eastern part of Mid-Levels, with a glossy marble entrance hall and shiny aluminium elevators. His grandmother owned the property, which differed from Mitchell’s modest home. Mitchell began to reach for him the moment the door closed, but Tommy held him at bay with a hand to his chest, prodding the button for the sixteenth floor before raising his eyes to the tiny camera in the corner of the ceiling.

“They have CCTV in all the lifts and that old bastard on the front desk doesn’t miss a thing. Maybe we can use this time to talk.” Getting fresh in the back of a taxi when he would never see the driver again was very different to giving a free performanceto the regular—and allegedly gossipy—night porter. “What did I do? For you to ghost me?”

Mitchell smiled sadly and looked at the panel of floor numbers.

“Nothing. I had a really crap few—”

“Bullshit. What did I do, Mitchell? I need to know, so I don’t lose my friend again.”

“A mountain of things happened, Tommy. Work pressures, friends quitting work, Zane being thrown into the sea. But then I overheard you talking to Alec about me. My fault. I got it into my head that we were becoming more than friends and when I heard what you said, I decided I needed to put some distance between us. Especially hearing both of you planning to fix me up with one of Alec’s friends. “

“Shit. You overheard that?”

“Not intentionally. I was getting drinks for Zane’s friend when you two were sitting outside the galley chatting.”

“I never agreed. And I never will. You’re mine tonight.”

The lift doors parted on Tommy’s floor and he stepped out first to open his front door. Once inside with the door closed, both kicking off their shoes, Mitchell pushed Tommy up against the wall, kissed him and pushed the length of his body against him. He felt Mitchell’s body tremble. With an effort of will, Tommy pushed away and led them into his bedroom, flicking on the bedside lamp. Tommy thanked the stars he had tidied that morning, knowing he might be home late. Mitchell stood momentarily, taking in the wall posters and the decor before his hungry gaze turned to Tommy. Something had definitely changed in Mitchell. His usual reserve was gone, replaced by a new and frankly delicious wildness in his eyes. Tommy moved across the room and stood in front of him.

“I’m going to undress you,” he said.

“Hurry up, then. But no snark about my underwear.”

Tommy snorted. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Mitchell didn’t move as he let Tommy unbutton his shirt, unzip his jeans and pull down his boxers. On his knees, he looked up into Mitchell’s dark gaze, at the man he had once dismissed as boring. How wrong could he have been? Mitchell’s arousal already stood to attention, thick, straining and eager. Tommy grabbed the base of his cock and, while staring up at Mitchell, opened his mouth wide.

“No,” said Mitchell, cradling Tommy’s chin and smiling down at him. “Not this time. Tonightyouget blown, birthday boy.”

“I thought maybe you might want to fuck me.”

Tommy began to unzip his jeans but Mitchell stayed his hand and, very gently and painstakingly, began to unbutton his shirt and undress him, leaving him naked.

“Oh, I will. But only after you’ve let me blow you. Do you have condoms?”

“The drawer to your right. An assortment of lubes and condoms. But I’m on PrEP.”

Mitchell stopped unbuttoning for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face, before continuing.

“I don’t know what that is. But I’m used to condoms, if that’s okay?”

“Whatever. Just stop talking.”

Mitchell snorted and picked up the pace. Not once did he touch Tommy’s skin, just a soft, warm breath on his chest, in his ear or against his upper thigh as he removed clothing. What at first Tommy thought he might find infuriating became the opposite, awakening every nerve ending in his body, raising goosebumps on his skin. His cock grew so hard he feared that a single touch of flesh on burning flesh might make him explode.

Mitchell sensed the tension because he reached a hand behind Tommy, roughly squeezed, then slapped his rear cheek before kneeling on the floor. Tommy definitely had had mild-manneredMitchell all wrong. There was no way he could last long, feeling the heat and rough surface of Mitchell’s tongue slide up the underside of his cock. He even clamped his hands onto Tommy’s backside, caressing his glutes and repeatedly pulling him in. Tommy’s orgasm, however incredible, happened far too quickly. He wanted the sensation to go on all night. Mitchell pulled away and stood while wiping his mouth with his fingertips.

Before Tommy could voice his disappointment, Mitchell lifted him bodily from the floor and threw him onto the bed. Mitchell removed the last of his own clothes before crawling along Tommy’s body.

“That wasn’t even foreplay. I am going to touch and taste every inch of you, Tommy Chow,” said Mitchell, lifting one of Tommy’s legs and kissing the underside of his foot. “Until you’re begging me to fill you. And in case I never get the chance again.”

“Bring it on, Baxt—ahhh.”

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