Page 16

Fifteen

Isaac

T here is a pizza box on the hotel bed between us as Jensen and I stuff our faces and wash it down with a six-pack of beer.

I’m still reeling from the interaction when we first got into the room. It’s become increasingly clear that if Jensen says jump, I say how high. Which would be a red flag if I didn’t know deep in my heart that he means it when he says he’ll take care of me.

Am I being naive to judge him so quickly? Probably.

But my gut is telling me I’m safe with him.

He smirks at me over the pizza. Lifting the bottle to his lips, his eyes stay glued to mine. I desperately want to stay the night, but I’m not going to just invite myself if he’s not ready for that.

And oddly enough, I don’t want to stay for sex. In fact, I think I want to wait a while before we take that step. I haven’t had this much fun with foreplay since I was a teenager.

The making out. Groping. Yearning. It’s all too good to rush it.

“I don’t want to be too forward…” he says before taking another pull off the longneck.

“You gave me a hand job backstage surrounded by crew. I think we’re past too forward.”

He chuckles, and I can’t get enough of his smile. It’s crooked and warm, lighting up his eyes with delicate wrinkles sprouting at the edges.

I’ve never really been into older guys before, but Jensen is the exception.

“Well, in that case,” he says, looking almost bashful. “I would love it if you spent the night.”

I bite my bottom lip to keep from grinning. What is happening to me?

“I’d love to,” I reply.

“But I’ll warn you now,” he says, leaning back with a smile. “I’m a cuddler.”

“I think I can handle that.”

His foot nudges my leg. The energy in the room changes. He takes another drink, finishing his beer but never taking his eyes off me. Then, he sets the bottle on the nightstand, followed by the pizza box.

Then it’s just us and a bed.

“Come here,” he says in a cool, quiet command. With nothing between us, I crawl toward the head of the bed. When I reach him, I lean forward to press my lips to his. He kisses me tenderly at first and then wraps his hand around my neck to pull me closer.

Before I know it, I’m climbing onto his lap. Straddling his hips, I kiss him without anything but clothes between us. The room is silent except for the sound of our subtle moans and lips smacking.

He moves his hands under my shirt and up my back. His touch feels phenomenal.

As he slides my shirt over my head, his mouth finds my chest. When he pulls my nipple between his teeth, I let out a hissing sound and grind my hips against him.

More, I chant in my mind.

I tug at his shirt as he flicks my right nipple with his tongue. I’m desperate for the feel of his body against mine. He leans forward to allow me room to take his shirt over his head. Then, our chests are pressed together as we kiss again.

My hips grind again and again. With his fingers in my belt loops, he guides my movement, pulling me closer and harder.

Out of nowhere, he flips me onto my back, following behind and settling his body between my legs. From this angle, he grinds me into the mattress, matching up the stiff lengths of our arousal, seeking friction together.

“Pants off,” I mumble against his mouth.

As I’m working to undo his pants, he’s working on mine. We are frantic and fumbling, desperate to touch each other. I want all of him.

He shimmies my pants down first, taking my underwear with them. I’m naked on the bed in front of him, reaching to remove the rest of his clothes, too. He stands from the bed to remove his pants but is only gone a second.

The moment he’s fully naked, he drapes his body back over mine, and the sensation of warm skin on warm skin is incredible. Everything with Jensen feels like I’m experiencing it for the first time. It all feels so different than it does with other people, which frightens me a little. Normally, I’m just looking to get off, but with him, I want to experience it all—because, for the first time, I’m not experiencing it alone. And if that’s true, then I might be careening headfirst into a real relationship. God, I pray I don’t mess it up.

When he kisses me again, our dicks are aligned, and he ruts against me slowly, drawing a desperate moan from my mouth.

“You feel so good,” he murmurs.

“Just keep doing that,” I reply.

His mouth is fused to mine as he moves, grinding cock against cock. Sweet, delicious friction fills my senses, and I feel myself coursing straight for my climax.

We stop kissing as Jensen lifts onto his hands, meeting my gaze as he continues to move. The combination of his dark-brown eyes and his smooth, hard cock rubbing against mine is enough to send me over the edge.

The sounds I’m making aren’t quite moans. They’re more like whimpering cries, and judging by the euphoria on his face, he likes it. It feels amazing and I don’t want it to stop, but it’s not quite enough pressure or friction to make me come. And for once, that’s okay. I could stay like this forever. Caught up in a wave of passion with him.

There’s nothing outside this door. No fans or careers or families or pressure. It’s just us.

Jensen kisses me again, this time trailing his lips down my jaw to my neck, and I cling to him for dear life. I wish I could live here in this moment forever.

At any moment, I expect him to ask to fuck me, and at this point, I would let him. I did want to wait. But I’m so caught up in him that I’ll say yes if he asks.

But he doesn’t. He seems just as content as me to explore this passion just outside of full-blown sex.

Reaching down, he wraps a hand around us both together and strokes.

“Unh,” I groan. “Harder.”

Jensen leans back onto his knees and gazes down at my rigid cock. Then he dives down to wrap his mouth around it, taking me by surprise as I let out a needy cry.

“Fuck!”

He moans around my shaft in response, coating it with saliva. He’s teasing me on purpose, taking me for a ride without letting it end. I’m tortured by the sensation.

After a few moments, when my dick is good and wet, he kneels again, lining them up and stroking them together.

“Oh God, I’m gonna come,” I mumble, throwing my head back. Everything feels so good. The warmth of his hand. The weight of his balls against mine. The pressure from when he squeezes the head on every upstroke.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” he says and jacks our dicks together.

“Please make me come,” I beg. “I’m ready.”

His stroking picks up speed. My legs are writhing with Jensen between them. I’m gripping tight to his other arm, waiting for the climax to pummel into me.

And when it does, I let out a strangled, drawn-out noise as I dig my head into the mattress. He makes a similar sound, and I feel him jolt and shudder against me.

A moment later, warm, wet spurts of cum land on my chest. There’s even some near my neck and collarbone.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, and I can only imagine it’s in appreciation of the mess on my body.

When my orgasm releases me from its grip, I glance down at the mess to see our cum mixed on my skin. There is some pooled in my belly button and mingled in my chest hair. It’s a hot fucking sight.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles as he sits upright. “I need to commit this image to memory forever.”

I laugh as my hands fall to the sides. I am wholly spent and sated.

“Go ahead,” I say, letting him stare at me, covered in sex.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter in my life.”

“That can’t be true,” I reply.

He drapes his body back over mine, squeezing the mess between us. Then he kisses my lips and looks into my eyes. “Theo, you are by far the hottest thing to me, and I think you always will be.”

My smile relaxes as I gaze back up at him, overcome by the intensity of his words and his tone. Words like always and forever normally make me panic and bolt, but hearing Jensen say them has me feeling almost…hopeful. It’s only been a week, and there’s no telling what the future holds for us, but for once, I’m not actually terrified of it.

Which might actually be the scariest thing of all.

Jensen opens the door for the large white tile shower for me, and I step in under the hot spray. As he steps in behind me, I sense him watching me with interest.

There’s a gravitational pull between us because I’m almost immediately falling into his arms the moment we both meet under the water. Pressing my cheek to his shoulder, I try to breathe and focus for a moment.

It’s a while before either of us moves or speaks.

“What are you thinking?” he whispers.

“How crazy this is,” I reply without lifting my head.

“What exactly is crazy about it?”

“The fact that I’ve only known you for a week, but it feels like longer.”

“It does,” he mumbles against the side of my head.

“Are we moving too fast?” I ask.

He chuckles. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

“I don’t mean the sex part,” I reply. “I mean…”

Pulling away, I only glance into his eyes for a moment before getting self-conscious. Maybe it’s just me who feels this way. I don’t want to say something stupid. It’s embarrassing.

“What is it?” he pushes.

“I just mean that…I don’t normally get this close to the guys I’m with. The sex is what normally happens fast, but the relationship…that’s what’s freaking me out.”

“Do you want to slow down?” he asks.

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Are you afraid that I’m going to break your heart?” he asks, and I have to let out a heavy breath. Relationship talk is not my favorite. Feelings and fears and all that shit is not for me. It’s much easier to find a guy I find hot, have my fun with him, and say goodbye forever. The heart has nothing to do with it.

Staring at the ceiling, I let out a huff of frustration. “Yes, I am.”

Jensen wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me toward him. Then, with his fingers on my chin, he forces me to look at him.

“I won’t.”

“It’s okay if you do. It’ll give me more songs to write.”

He doesn’t laugh. “That’s not funny.”

“I know it’s not, but I cover up fear with humor. You should know that about me.”

“You cover a lot up with humor,” he replies. Then, after a moment, he adds, “But you don’t need to hide anything from me.”

Suddenly, it hits me that I’ve been keeping a secret from him this whole time and if we’re going to talk about trust and relationships, I should probably come out with this.

“My name’s not Theo.”

Okay, maybe I should have worked my way into it instead of just blurting it out because he’s staring at me as if I’ve grown a dick on my forehead.

“What?”

“There was never a good time to tell you, so I’m telling you now.” I wince as I wait for his reaction. Is this a big deal? Will he storm out in anger?

“So…” he asks.

“So what?”

“What the fuck is your name?”

“Oh,” I mutter with a chuckle. “It’s…uh, Isaac.”

“Isaac.”

“Yeah,” I reply, hoping he’s not about to leave. “Theo is a stage name. I didn’t want to use my real one, so it was easier to just make one up, but you know you can still call me Theo if you want?—”

“No, I want to call you by your name. I hope you know I’m not here because you’re a star or a celebrity. I don’t care about that. I’m here for you .”

His mouth curves with a crooked smile as he runs a hand down the side of my face. Then he leans in and presses his lips to mine. “Isaac.”

Hearing him say it feels like cracking open the last layer of my heart and letting him all the way in. Now, there is nothing between us. No secrets. No boundaries. Jensen has full access to my heart, and I pray he keeps his word and doesn’t break it.