Page 17 of Touch of Innocence
And that was quite enough ofthat—Gunner informed his rebellious mind.
“Sam. Beautiful.” Gunner smirked as he finally broke the kiss, before this whole making out thing turned from sexy to emotional. It was ridiculous that it even wanted to go there. “We have to get into the shower. We’re getting dust all over the floor.”
It was even true. As warm as it was, the mud that had coated their bodies for the second time that day was drying, flaking off into little puffs of brownish dust. And it was really starting to itch quite badly, though even that couldn’t distract him from how badly he wanted this man.
“Mmph. Fine.” Sam pulled away, and Gunner couldn’t help but look him over, enjoying the way his boxers strained over his erection once more, like they could barely hold him in. It was nice to know that Sam wanted Gunner, too. Though didn’t that seem somehow inevitable? Even when Gunner had been trying to hold himself back, hadn’t part of him known that this was, at least, a possibility?
This time, it was Sam’s turn to lock his arm around Gunner’s waist and pull him down the hallway, the most beautiful expression of determination on his face. Gunner chuckled softly to himself, and Sam gave him a sharp look but didn’t say anything.
Once they were naked in the bathroom, which was as large and old as the rest of the house but had, at least, been renovated so that it had a functioning shower, Sam bent over to turn on the taps and Gunner got a view that was to die for. Those tight, round, firm little ass cheeks were on display for him, the globes of them full and pale, and Gunner found himself whistling softly.
“For a pain in the ass, you’re pretty hot,” he admitted, when Sam rose up to look at him more directly, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. Gunner chuckled again, stepping into the shower, moaning softly as the water washed over him. It was perfect, just warm enough to get rid of the mud, though not too hot for the burning heat of the day. Refreshing, brisk, the water sluiced over him, and he beckoned Sam in.
“I was gonna say the same thing about you, darlin’,” Sam purred, and there it was again. That sweet, seductive drawl, the one that Sam seemed to fight so much but which was there whenever he got aroused enough to forget to hide it.
Darlin’. No one had ever called Gunner that before, and it did strange things to his insides, to his heart, which threatened to swell with emotion, if he let it. Sam didn’t mean anything by it, Gunner was sure, and if he did, that was probably even worse.
That didn’t mean that he didn’t like hearing it.
There seemed to be only one choice, and Gunner took it. He pulled Sam closer so that he couldn’t see his smile or the warmth in his eyes. He kissed him so that Sam couldn’t say any more of those sweet words which made Gunner feel far too much.
Kissing was simple. Kissing, Gunner understood. He could kiss someone and still walk away from them. He’d always made a point of not getting entangled with people who would take kissing as more than just a fun thing to do. Same with sex. It wasn’t a declaration of love or anything.
So he let himself get lost in Sam’s mouth and tried to tell himself that Sam would be okay with it when Gunner left. Sam being in the closet would make that easier, Gunner figured. He didn’t have to worry, just touch, feel, all of the things he was good at.
Then something happened which he didn’t expect, which he couldn’t have expected, not in a hundred years. His little straight boy, his closeted Sammy, reached down and, all on his own, gripped Gunner’s cock. His hand was awkward, and he obviously had no real idea what he was doing, but he had done it of his own volition.
Just that thought was enough to have Gunner’s dick jumping, twitching, his heart pulsing in the back of his throat until he was tasting copper. He could barely breathe because Sam was touching him. Sam was stroking him, his hand inexpert, but that really just made it that much hotter to Gunner.
There was no way he was going to let himself be outdone, though. Groaning softly, Gunner let his hand slip over Sam’s smooth, slick body, tracing over the angular planes of his chest and stomach, the subtle curve of his waist and hips.
There was no way he was going to be able to make himself tease, though. Not when Sam was jerking him off, his hand slipping down to the base of Gunner’s dick, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. He was a fast learner, this man, and Gunner fought back, his own hand more skilled, more knowledgeable.
Sam gave the most beautiful little groan, his muscles flexing under his skin as they tensed up. His eyes half closed and his hips tilted forward, giving Gunner more access to his body.
They didn’t kiss, though maybe it would have been safer if they had. Instead, they just looked at each other, and the contact of their eyes was somehow more intimate than kissing. Gunner saw everything in those jade green eyes. He saw dawning pleasure, and arousal, and something that looked an awful lot like affection …
And what did Sam see in Gunner’s eyes? What secrets was that keen mind of his able to ferret out? Gunner growled and tried his best to distract Sam, to stroke him with so much skill, base to tip, tip to base, slick and hot and wet, that Sam couldn’t think about anything other than that pleasure.
“Sammy,” Gunner gasped, and for once, he wasn’t actually trying to be a brat about it. It was a term of affection, an acknowledgment of the pleasure that Sam was sending coursing through his body, spreading heat like lava, only faster. Far faster.
“Gunner,” Sam whispered back, and Gunner wasn’t at all prepared for how it would feel to hear Sam say his name like that. At that moment, it was easy to think that not only did Sam care about him for more than just sex, but also that it would somehow magically be okay, that it could work out, though of course, it couldn’t.
Just for a moment, though, as the pressure built in his balls, as his cock twitched and leaked precum, and as he watched Sam’s reaction to all of it, it felt like Gunner could pretend.
Just for this second, he and Sam had something like hope for the future. Just while the orgasm was building to the point of no return, and as it washed over him, sending him hurtling up into hope and, for once, not afraid of the inevitable crash down to reality.
Nothing had changed, only it felt like everything had. Sam gave a hoarse little cry and his cum shot, hot and thick, over Gunner’s hand, while Gunner felt the explosion of his own release bursting out of him, covering Sam’s hand. And the whole time, they didn’t kiss. The whole time, their eyes kept that strangely intimate, intense contact.
Only when it was over, only when they were both panting, the water washing away the evidence of their sins, did they kiss. Gunner pressed the more slender, taller man against the wall and kissed him like his life depended on it.
The thing was, it sort of felt like it did, and that was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to him. Which was saying something. So, trying not to shake, Gunner reached for the soap and started to wash himself.
Better to focus on that, or anything, than on the horrible, wonderful, irresistible mistake that he had just made.
