Banking on Him

Fuck me. I’m a strong guy. I’m a tough guy. But I was not built to withstand the sight of Jamie Canning stroking himself.

The shred of moonlight shining through the gap in the curtains shows him reclining on his back, his far knee cocked wide. His body is perfect—strong and lean on the bed. His palm is cupped over his dick, the fingertips just brushing the cockhead. He takes a deep breath and then pushes it out slowly, his back arching a little ways, his hips rolling a few degrees.

And I am dying a quiet death. My mouth actually waters, and I have to swallow hard. He’s right there. In two paces I could have him in my mouth. It’s like Jamie Canning looked into my filthy mind and extracted my fantasies. Well, the opening reel, anyway.

He doesn’t turn his head to look at me, because he doesn’t have to. We both know where my attention lies. He squeezes his shaft once. Twice. Then he opens his hand, letting the fingers drift down. He cups his balls, his thumb skimming the delicate skin.

I hear a hot gasp, and realize it’s come from me.

Then? The fucker smiles.

That wakes me up, at least a little. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I really need to jerk. You mind?”

Holy…! I rue the fucking day that I said those same words to him. I was eighteen, and I thought I was so smooth. But I was only setting in motion some serious pain for everyone. And it’s still happening. There’s blood pounding in my ears now.

And other places.

My hand creeps down into my boxers without my approval. Jamie is pumping himself now. Slowly, up and down. He pauses to rub his thumb over the head, and my throat constricts.

“Wes,” he says, his voice like gravel. “I need your help.”

It’s a miracle I’m able to answer in an almost-normal voice. “Looks like you’re doing fine on your own.”

That’s when he finally turns his head to look at me. As he rubs himself, he swallows, and I see his Adam’s apple bob roughly. “I need to know.”

Know what? I almost ask. But he’s studying me now. His eyes are trailing across my chest and down my arm. He’s watching the hand in my shorts. And I get it. He wants to know why he’s feeling this way, if it’s attraction or beer or temporary insanity.

Earlier tonight I was telling him the truth when I said I didn’t want to help him make this discovery. I’m not sure I’d survive it.

This is, of course, all my fault.

We lock eyes. His are heavy-lidded. I’ve always wanted another chance to see his lust-filled face. Now his lips part on the upstroke, and it’s almost enough to get me across the room. But still I hesitate, and not because I’m afraid he’ll regret this tomorrow.

Because I know I will.

“Please,” he says.

That one word is enough to get me off my bed. I’m standing in the center of our room now, hands on the waistband of my boxers. I yank and let them drop to the floor.

And now he’s staring at my cock, stroking his.

“What do you want?” I ask. And I need him to be specific. This is a very dangerous game we’re playing. It will probably end in disaster. But if there’s any way I can prevent that, I will.

He moves further onto the bed, making room for me. Then he beckons. And there isn’t enough money, fame or fortune in the world to keep me from obeying. I’m on that bed a second later. His arms reach for me, pull me in.

We’re side by side, chest to chest. And Jamie Canning is kissing me again.

He doesn’t taste like beer anymore, but toothpaste. There’s no way either of us can blame this on alcohol tomorrow. His tongue is in my mouth and I take greedy pulls on it, loving every second of it.

Our lower bodies grind together, and he lets out a soft moan, rocking harder into me. His cock slides over my belly, lines up with my own aching shaft. That bit of friction brings stars to my eyes.

“Fuck,” I choke out.

His eyes slit open, searching my face as his tongue comes out to lick his bottom lip. “If you stop right now, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Stop? Is that a word? What does it mean? Probably the opposite of what I’m doing when I slide my hand between our bodies and grasp both our cocks in my hand.

Jamie’s spine arches on another husky moan. “Oh shit. That’s good.”

I jack us slowly, squeezing on each upstroke. His mouth finds mine again. His stubble scrapes my cheek as he angles his head to deepen the kiss. That magic tongue slides between my lips again, hungry and eager. I can’t believe we’re doing this. I can’t believe he’s letting me do this.

We’re both leaking, making it so fucking easy for my fist to slide over our slick cocks. My balls are heavy, tingling with the need for release. A few more strokes and I’ll probably blow, but Jamie doesn’t let it happen.

He wrenches out of my grip and plants both palms on my chest to shove me onto my back. My dick sails up and slaps my navel, and he groans at the sight before wrapping his fingers around my shaft.

“Can I…” His voice comes out in a rush. “Can I suck you off?”

Holy mother of God. I’m caught in some kind of fever dream. I have to be, because there’s no other explanation for why my best friend is offering to put his mouth on my dick.

I figured this exploratory I-need-to-know-if-I-like-dudes session would involve me doing all the work, ravaging him the way I’ve always fantasized about doing. But one thing about Jamie Canning? He’s full of surprises. Every time he used to accept one of my crazy challenges, my eyebrows would soar, my mind unable to comprehend how this laidback Cali boy who always followed the rules could be so willing to follow me down whatever rabbit hole I was leading him into.

I’m not leading him into anything tonight, though. This is all Jamie. It’s Jamie’s fingers skimming along my hard length. Jamie’s breath hot on the tip of my dick as he slides down and brings his mouth within inches of me.

“Have you ever…” I swallow past the gravel in my throat. “Done this before?”

“No.” His lips are hesitant as they graze my cockhead. “I might suck.”

A laugh chokes out. “Sucking is kind of the point.”

He lifts his head, brown eyes twinkling. “I might be bad at it,” he corrects.

“You won’t be.” Because there’s no way he can be. I’m too close to coming already, just from being in the same bed as him. He doesn’t need skill—he just needs to be here. Him. Here. With me.

I almost lose my mind when his tongue touches me. Every inch of me is hot, tight, prickling with need. He licks a slow circle around my tip, then kisses his way down my shaft. He’s kissing my dick, light, open-mouthed caresses that blow my fucking mind. Holy shit. Jamie Canning is a cocktease. Who woulda thought?

“You trying to drive me crazy?” I growl after he kisses another path up my cock.

His chuckle vibrates through me. “Is it working?”

“Yes.” I slide both hands through his hair, cupping his head. “What about you? Enjoying your first taste of dude?”

He laughs harder now, broad shoulders quaking as he crouches between my thighs. “It’s…” His tongue finds me again, tickling the underside of my shaft. “Different.”

He wraps his hand around my base and closes his mouth around my cockhead, giving a slow, decadent suck. “It’s…”

He sucks again, taking me deeper this time, and my cock pulses uncontrollably. He must feel it on his tongue because he groans, loudly, desperately. He lifts his head, his expression foggy with lust, cloudy with confusion.

Joy surges through me. And apprehension, because I don’t know what to do with his bewilderment. Do I assure him it’s no big deal? That it’s perfectly cool for a straight guy to love blowing another man?

But he doesn’t give me the chance to say anything. He just dips his head and his hot, wet mouth surrounds me again.

My hips shift on the mattress, pure lust sizzling in my cock and balls as my best friend works me over. I keep one hand tangled in his hair. The other claws at the sheet, bunching it tight between my fingers. My heart is pounding. It’s all I can hear, a frantic thump-thump rattling my ribcage. That and the sounds Jamie is making. Husky groans, wet pops, a deep growl as he takes me almost all the way to the back of his throat.

Jesus Christ. This man is wrecking me. I’m wrecked. I’m—

“Going to come,” I ground out.

The climax seizes my balls and shoots up my shaft, hot jets spurting out of my cock just as Jamie’s mouth releases me. He strokes me through the release, his breathing heavy and eyes gleaming as he watches my come land on my abs, my chest.

I can’t breathe. I’m a gasping, shuddering mess, and he just keeps watching. And then the fucker does it again—he smiles. He fucking smiles as he lowers his head and licks one pearly drop off my stomach.

“That was so hot,” he tells me.

Hot? Try scorching. Blistering. A goddamn inferno.

I’m unable to do anything but lie there like a sack of potatoes. Struggling to breathe. Blinking like an owl as I watch the most beautiful man grab my discarded shirt from the floor and clean me up. Once he’s done, he tosses the shirt away and bends down to kiss my collarbone. Then my shoulder. My other shoulder.

He keeps kissing my feverish flesh, licking, nibbling, and I just let him explore, offering myself up as his sexual guinea pig. He’s tasting every inch of me, his mouth moving tentatively over the ripples of my abs, my hips, my pecs. I moan when he licks one of my nipples, and he peeks up at me, his lips curving.

“You like that.”

I manage a nod.

He does it again, this time closing his lips around the tiny nub and sucking on it. I can feel his erection against my thigh, leaving streaks of moisture against my skin. Drawing a breath, I reach down and grasp him, and now I’m smiling, because his tongue freezes on my nipple as his entire body tenses.

He thrusts into my hand, and it’s all the invitation I need. “On your back,” I mutter.

Jamie rolls over so fast it makes me laugh. He props his arms behind his head, one brow cocked as he nudges his hips up, all but taunting me with his perfect dick.

“Let’s see if you’ve still got it,” he teases.

My laughter is muffled against his stomach. “You know, you’re a cocky bastard when you’re gay.”

“Guess I am.”

I slowly crawl up his body, propping my elbows on either side of his head. Our gazes lock. He parts his lips, peering up at me with hazy eyes. Swallowing, I lower my mouth to his in a soft kiss. Fuck, I taste myself on his tongue, and it’s enough to send my mind spinning. This guy…goddamn it, this guy. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Canning. The way I crave Canning.

Four years’ worth of meaningless sexual encounters flash through my head as I break the kiss and slide down his body again. All those guys I hooked up with in the past…they’re a blur. They’re faceless. Sometimes they were faceless even when I was with them. I got off, they got off, but I wasn’t fully present. I always held something back from them.

Not with Jamie. I can’t hold back with him, and never could.

“Trust me, I’ve still got it,” I whisper as my mouth descends toward his cock. And I’m going to prove it to him. Show him how much I fucking love him, because I sure as shit can’t tell him.

I take a breath. His erection is millimeters away and it’s mine. Tonight, he’s mine. I grip his shaft and give it a light squeeze. He shudders in response, watching me. Waiting.

Licking my lips, I bend down and swipe my tongue over the little slit at his tip. He teased me before, and now it’s time for some payback. I’m going to worship every inch of Jamie Canning’s cock. I’m going to torment him with my tongue until he can’t remember a time when my mouth wasn’t on his dick bringing him pleasure. I’m going to—

Jamie comes the second I wrap my lips around him.

Yup, he fucking comes, and I don’t know whether to laugh or groan as he starts to shake with release. In the end I do neither—I suck him all the way down to the base, drawing a strangled cry from his lips as I swallow the salty drops that shoot down my throat.

When he finally goes still, I raise my head with a sigh. “Really, dude? That was like two seconds. You have the stamina of a pre-teen.”

His shoulders tremble as he rolls over on his side in hysterics. “I guess you’ve still got it,” he chokes out between laughs.

Climbing up the mattress, I ease in behind him, yanking his big body toward me. He stiffens for a second, then relaxes, his taut ass nestling against my groin, his back flush to my chest.

I wrap an arm around his waist. If I’m honest, I wanted this as much as the blowjob—the right to just touch him. To lean on him, skin to skin.

But he’s silent. Too silent, probably. “Jamie,” I murmur in his ear, before planting a kiss on his shoulder. “Are you going to freak out now?”

The pause before he speaks cuts me in half. “Do you want me to?” There’s humor in his voice.

“No.” It’s my turn to pause. “Do you want me to go back to my bed?”

He snuggles even closer, plastering himself to my body like a warm blanket. “No.” He sighs in contentment. “Night, Wes.”

A lump rises in my throat. “Night, Canning.”