Page 104 of Sean's Sunshine
Again that sexy, half-strangled whimper. “I’d like to get kinkier,” he confessed on a mewl, “but I really need to be fucked.”
Fire roared through Jackson’s blood, and he tugged gently on the plug, glad Ellery believed in lots of lubricant, because it slid right out. Then he was poised at Ellery’s entrance, and Ellery took him on one hard push, crying out in relief as he seated.
The rest of it was a blur, a gorgeous, sexual, sensual blur, as Jackson went from zero to orgasm in the time it had taken the cats to wreck the house. His climax hit him with a rush, and he wasn’t shy about crying out and pumping into Ellery’s body, conscious that Ellery was moaning and coming and coming and coming as he did.
Ellery’s convulsions started him up again, squeezing and stroking Jackson’s cock through his ass, and in a moment, a long, slow moment, Jackson was thrusting hard and slow and powerful, and round two wason.
FUCK THEplans, Ellery decided an hour later. He wanted to go to the pickup game and watch Jackson play basketball in the thin November sunshine. He could bring his tablet and do all his ordering and organizing there, and when they got home, they could see if the guest room was still standing after letting the cats out of the shower. They had a litter box, they had food and water—Ellery was hoping the solitary confinement would chill them out.
So he and Jackson pulled up to the park where the rest of the guys played, and Ellery—walking with the faintest bit of stiffness—took his place on the bleachers. Jackson was greeted with a ration of shit for bringing his boyfriend to the game until he pointed out that Henry and Lance were playing, as were Sean and Billy.
There was some hooting and hollering, and then Jackson took one team and Henry took the other, both of them picking whoever cracked them up the most at the time they were choosing.
Ellery watched the game with interest, noting that Jackson had picked Lance, Billy, AJ, and Jael for his team, and Henry had picked Sasha, Sean, Randy, and Curtis for his own team. On the one hand, it seemed evenly matched. On Jackson’s team, AJ was a little bit timid, and Jael was a little bit uncoordinated. On Henry’s, Randy was all ears and elbows, while Sasha, one of the ex-cons, was all chest.
But that’s not what it came down to.
Ellery watched as Henry missed a shot and then made a stiff little wince of recovery as he ran and then Sean did the same thing.
And then Randy did the same thing.
Ellery’s eyes widened as he suddenly deduced something very personal about a bunch of guys hanging out sweating in tank tops and shorts as they said crude shit each other in a stunning display of smack talk.
But not once did the real smack get talked.
Finally it was over. As Ellery watched, fascinated, Jackson, Lance, and Billy ran circles around Henry’s team, giving AJ and Jael plenty of chances to play. When the game ended, all the guys gathered around the bleachers, guzzling water and continuing to talk shit.
“Hey, Ellery,” Henry called with a grin. “Your fiancé cheats. There’s no way his team beat us, you know that, right?”
Ellery gave him a prim glare. “He doesn’tcheat, Mr. Worrall. If you want your team to beat Jackson’s, Billy and Lance need you and Sean to top.”
There was a sudden shocked intake of breath as everybody stared at him in horror, apparently for saying the one obvious thing that nobody had thought to talk shit about. Ellery was about to turn red and rethink moving back to live with his mother when a raw cackle of glee broke the silence, and then another, and then another, and Jackson, Billy, and Lance all sank to the blacktop and howled.
Sean and Henry gave them a narrow-eyed glare, and then they broke too and laughed until all ten of the players were hanging off each other and laughing, and Ellery was left, mildly embarrassed, sitting on the bleachers with his tablet on his lap, wondering what the statute of limitations was on outing the sex lives of two entire basketball teams in the middle of what was apparently a bragging ritual.
Eventually the laughter subsided, but the general happy chaos followed them to Jennifer the haunted minivan, where Henry said goodbye to Lance—Lance had a shift in an hour—before Henry hopped in back.
“I’m sorry,” Ellery confessed humbly to Henry as Jackson started up the vehicle and headed to Lowe’s. “I didn’t mean to—”
Henry cackled some more. “Don’t you dare apologize. That’s the best laugh I’ve had in forever. But oh my God, Ellery, next time you’ve got a hot tip like that, could you maybe tell me in private?”
“Yes, of course,” Ellery mumbled, still embarrassed. Jackson’s hand on his knee cheered him up a little, as did Jackson’s insistence that he buy new drapes, which he and Henry spent the rest of the afternoon hanging up.
They were still talking about how to fit sixty-million different Thanksgivings into one day when Henry took Jennifer and went back to his apartment, leaving Jackson to clean up and then shower again before starting dinner.
He was busy sautéing some chicken and vegetables and steaming some rice when Ellery finished his food order and place settings and other plans and moved behind Jackson as he worked, wrapping his arms around Jackson’s waist and rubbing his cheek on his shoulder.
“Good day,” he murmured.
“Very,” Jackson said, rubbing Ellery’s knuckles with his thumb.
“Good enough to let the cats out?” Ellery asked.
Jackson turned around in his arms, grinning. “I don’t know, Counselor. If they wreck the house again, will it be your turn to top?”
Ellery chuckled, his cheeks heating, and he buried his face in Jackson’s neck. “If it is, I promise not to tell a soul,” he mumbled.
“You can tell whomever you like,” Jackson replied, nuzzling his temple. “As long as I’m not on the blacktop playing a pickup game.”
Ellery groaned into his chest, and then Jackson kissed him, kissed away the embarrassment, kissed away the awkwardness, and left only the bright, shining day that had started off badly, then gotten wonderful, and then gotten worse.
But here in Jackson’s arms, it was all wonderful. Ellery had never been bright and popular. He’d often had the ability to send common sense like a wet blanket on top of the heads of any peer group he’d ever tried to enjoy. Leave it to Jackson Rivers—and the friends he’d gathered to himself—to turn what could have been one of the most awkward moments of Ellery’s life into something fun and magic and joyful.
The cats could have their zoomies. It was worth all the torn drapes in the world.