Page 40 of Beyond the Stix

“No-thing.” I draw out the word. “Now get out of my way.”

“We’ve been pushing and pulling this whole time, and it’s going to stopnow. I want the truth. Who were you texting earlier?”

I rear back. “What the fuck does that mean? Stop what?” But I know what he’s talking about. Ever since the night at the Independent, there’s an unresolved something between us. No matter if we had sex, or that my desire to have John is far from quenched—the pull of my attraction to him is only physical. And I can control it.

The emotional part? I don’t know how to face the truth that I have feelings for John, so I keep pushing him away. But I’m too damn tired to fight about it now, but apparently, John wants to hash it out now.

So, what do I do? I shift the argument. “Why didn’t you get me a new number, like I asked?”

John’s eyes narrow. “We are working on it. And stop changing the subject.”

“We?” I yank my phone out from my pocket and thrust it at him. “Once you get me a new number, we’ll talk. Until then, you can handle all my calls. I’m fucking done.”

“No.” John crowds me further, ignoring the phone I’m holding at his chest. I stumble back until my spine hits the wall and I drop my cell.

He’s so close that his minty breath drags into my nostrils. His pupils have enlarged, even under the diffused light. He showered and I can smell his deodorant. I have to curb the sudden urge to bend slightly and shove my face into his armpit.

Is he attracted to me as much as I’m attracted to him?

I open my mouth to give him one more chance to back off, but he slams his mouth over mine. I’m a goner from that point on. Lost in the sensation of his hungry kiss. Lost in the pressure of his chest and pelvis pressing against me. Lost in the mind-blowing need this man is giving off.

“Our talk isn’t over,” he says against my mouth.

“Just fuck me already,” I counter, wrapping my arms around him. “But I want to suck you first.”

Without hesitation, John steps back, and says, “What’s stopping you?”

I drop to my knees, my face inches from his groin, and I work the front of his black slacks until I can push them down and have him stepping out of them.

I groan, idolizing the length and girth of his cock. The rush to have him in my mouth turns into a tangible craving that surely rivals a vampire’s desire for blood from his victims.

“You want this?” John questions as he’s holding his stiff shaft in his hand.

He doesn’t stroke it, just holds his dick down by the root, the tip inches from my mouth. I so want to swipe my tongue along his slick head, and taste the precum that is pooling at the tip.

A smile slides across my face and I utter, “Mine.” I trace the veiny lines along his rigid length with my tongue until my lips wrap around the mushroom head and the slightly bitter taste of precum hits my pallet.

“You make me crazy.” John grips the hair on top of my head, pulls his cock out until just the tip is in my mouth. He pauses, like he’s asking permission for what he wants to do next.

“Don’t stop,” I say, almost demanding it.

John tightens his hold on my hair and begins to pump in and out of my mouth. Slow at first, then he increases the pace until his cockhead hits the back of my throat. I choke and gag, saliva dripping down from the corners of my mouth. But I don’t fucking care. The pure pleasure on John’s face has my dick going from hard to steel in seconds.

But just as fast, he pulls out of my mouth and hauls me off my knees. “I need to fuck you,” John bluntly says between kisses and nips across my wet lips.

“I need you to fuck me,” I counter right back with equal fervor.

“I don’t have condoms or lube.” There’s hesitancy in his passion-filled eyes.

“Lucky for you, I’m locked and loaded.” Then I take his mouth, my tongue demanding ownership.

Between our hands doing fast work, we both end up naked and groaning with want.

John pushes me toward the couch in the far corner of the room, where there are mirrors on the wall. It didn’t dawn on me earlier how odd it was to see a black leather sofa and mirrors in that corner of the live room. Then, I had just wanted to play.

But now, my sole focus is on John’s solid body and his heavy cock pressing against my equally hard rod.

John turns me around, his gentle command in my ear, “Face the wall, your knees on the cushion, hands on the back of the couch.”