Page 17 of Small City Heart
With a groan, Charlie pulled his hand out from under himself.
“Anything you don’t enjoy?” Patrick asked while he shoved a spare pillow under Charlie’s hips. Then he pulled open the top drawer of the bedside table, hoping to find supplies.
Jackpot.There was a line of condoms, lube, and a prostate massager, which Patrick stared at for a long second before deciding against it. He loved using toys by himself, but it had always been a private thing, and he didn’t want to push in case Charlie felt the same.
Especially when this was only a casual hookup.
Casual, casual, casual.
“Not a huge fan of lots of prep. Don’t care for being finger-fucked for a long time. A bit is okay, but …” Charlie shrugged. “Not my favorite.”
“Good to know.”
Patrick kissed a line down Charlie’s spine, savoring the sleep-warm skin against his lips. When he got to the small of Charlie’s back, he asked, “How about my mouth? My tongue?”
Charlie hissed in surprise and his muscles clenched. “God yes.”
“Excellent.”
Patrick licked down Charlie’s crack until he found his target and slowly went about loosening him up. Charlie’s reactions—small hitching sighs and restless hip twitches—made Patrick’s head spin. He loved doing this but hadn’t gotten the chance in a long time. There were a lot of things he’d missed out on in the last year.
Patrick shook his head, trying to dislodge uncomfortable memories. He hadn’t had this much fun in ages.
Once Charlie’s hole was soft and messy with spit and his gasps sounded almost dire, Patrick sat up and got himself ready.
Condom on and slick with lube, he spread out over Charlie, hovering over his big body. Charlie’s hands were clenched into fists beside his head, and his face, what Patrick could see of it in profile, was flushed pink.
“Gorgeous,” Patrick whispered. Charlie closed his eyes like this was unbearable and awesome all at once. “You with me?”
“Yes.Please. Already close.”
Now it was Patrick’s turn to groan. He held himself steady and pressed inside. He paused to give Charlie a second to adjust, but he didn’t clench or tighten up, so Patrick slid deeper, waiting for resistance that never came.
Once he was as deep as possible, Patrick lay out across Charlie’s back and kissed his neck. They found each other’s fingers, and Patrick held Charlie’s hands tightly in his own. Charlie was panting below him, an expression that could have been pain or ecstasy on his face. His mouth was open, his eyes scrunched shut.
He squeezed Patrick’s fingers. “Move.”
Fuck. Okay.Charlie wasn’t the only one who was already close. That initial thrust had rocketed Patrick’s heartbeat to double speed.
Patrick swiveled his hips, giving Charlie a small retreat before pushing back in. He repeated the movement again and again until Charlie wasn’t quite so tight, and they were both gasping.
Sweat beaded between them, and Patrick was shocked by the ache in his sternum, by the desire to be closer and closer.
Charlie’s body locked up on a harder thrust, and he tried to rip his hand from Patrick’s hold. The sudden movement surprised Patrick, so he let Charlie dislodge his hand. Then Patrick realized where Charlie’s palm was heading.
A switch flipped in his brain, just like last night, and he wanted to fight for it. Wanted Charlie to have to fight for it too. So he grabbed that wayward, sneaking palm and pinned it back on the pillow. He fucked into Charlie harder.
“Oh God.Patrick.” A shudder rippled through Charlie, and he humped the pillow under his hips, which made Patrick’s eyes roll back. Charlie wasn’t relaxed any longer as he writhed, trying to get his hands free. He chanted, “Yes, yes, yes,” every time his efforts were thwarted.
Patrick bit the back of his neck and stretched their entwined arms out wide. Charlie’s body was tight and trembling, and his pleasure made Patrick’s world tilt.
He scraped his teeth up to Charlie’s ear. “You’re unreal.”
“No.” Charlie shook his head, his sweaty hair sticking to Patrick’s face. “This is real.It’s real.”
Charlie had said that earlier too, but this time the words pierced Patrick’s heart like someone had shot him, a slug lodging deep. A sob pushed against his chest. He gentled his biting into frantic, thankful kisses all over Charlie’s cheeks, jaw, and neck.
Patrick had spent months sacrificing bits and pieces of his happiness for a man who eventually had no qualms throwing him under the bus. But Charlie valued Patrick, and Patrick was struggling with how much more intense that made this.
