Читать книгу Gathered Up - Annabeth Albert - Страница 16

Chapter 7

Dear friends, I find I am obsessed with blue and brown combinations lately. And not just any blue—a crisp ocean blue, more turquoise than pastel. The brown is a deep, tweedy nut brown, shot through with reds and caramel hints. Thus was born my newest project on the needles…—Evren’s Yarnings

We kissed in the car. We kissed on my front step as I walked him out after we deposited the kids in their beds. We snuck a quick kiss in the back hallway of People’s Cup after Knit Night. We were the kings of sneaky looks and weighted pauses and lightning-fast kisses in this…friendship that neither of us paused to redefine as something else. We were friends. Now we were friends who kissed, which clearly was outside the boundaries Ev had set for us, but I wasn’t about to remind him of that. He still didn’t date casually or date bisexuals; I still didn’t have time for serious. But kissing? Everyone had time for a bit of kissing.

What we lacked was time for more than kissing.

“I don’t have to be in until two tomorrow,” I said to Ev on the phone one night. “Weird short shift. But it’s Knit Night, so I’ll see you there right?”

“Of course. Violet and Mira and the triplets would come after me if I didn’t show.” He’d picked up on my nicknames for a number of the knitters, which was cute. Similarly, I occasionally found myself doing his habit of phrasing statements as questions. We were rubbing off on each other. But not the kind of rubbing I really wanted.

“Yeah, they would. All the ladies want to adopt you.”

Ev made a dismissive noise. He didn’t believe me that he had a huge fan club—attendance numbers were up at Knit Night and despite what Ev thought, he was the primary reason. And with Knit Night getting even more popular, a trickle-over effect had started with knitters showing up in clumps on other nights of the week and coming by to grab their morning coffee from us. Business was up for the first time since Chris left, and that had Randy doling out more hours to me and me grateful to Knit Night for a whole variety of reasons.

“But why not come here for lunch?” he asked. “I will take my lunch break and cook for you. Mira is having a good week—it’s a rest week from chemo, and she will be downstairs in the shop. I have moved a rocking chair there for her to sit and knit while Adele works the counter. Mira is too social to spend all day with the TV. She takes her energy from others—”

“Back up. You mean we could be alone? Like alone-alone?” A hot spark chased its way up my spine.

“I do believe that is what I said, yes. My bedroom, it is over the stockrooms. Very private,” he continued conversationally. “But tell me, are you a screamer? Because we may have to entice you to be quiet…”

I swallowed hard. I loved the little bit of kinky, pushy edge Ev showed from time to time. “I can be quiet. Give me something to bite if I’m not. I’m not crazy about being gagged.”

“Something to bite? Oh, Brady, we may need more than a lunch hour.”

“Tell me about it.”

Ev met me at the back entrance of Iplik, where we snuck upstairs like a couple of teenagers. He was older than me, twenty-eight to my twenty-three, but I liked how much more settled he was in his skin than most guys my age. Still, for all our comparable maturity, we laughed and pushed at each other on the stairs.

I could have entered through the front of the store—I knew Ev had told Mira where he’d be and she was nothing if not supportive of Ev’s and my friendship, but something about having a secret lunch date had me kissing him before we even reached the top of the stairs.

“Why do I feel like we’re getting away with something?” Ev mused as he broke away from the kiss to open the door.

“Because we are.” I chased him into the apartment, trying to capture him for another kiss. Actually, to be more accurate, I wanted him to capture me. Push me up against the wall…However, to my dismay, he led me to the kitchen.

“I want to show you what I made for lunch—”

“Ev. Really? There’s food?” I groaned. “I thought—”

“Dolma, köfte, and cacik. I thought you would like to try.”

“I would.” I was trying desperately to be a good sport and not be disappointed that I wasn’t getting intimately acquainted with his bed.

“Ah! See?” He opened the refrigerator to reveal a neat row of glass jars. “For you to take. After. And here is a lunch sack for you.” He picked up a small knitted cotton tote from the counter.

“You made this?” I fingered the thick spongy yarn. Blocks of blue and brown formed the sort of mosaic pattern I was starting to associate with Ev’s signature look.

“Yes. The blue reminded me of your eyes.”

Pile of goo, party of one. He noticed little things about me, like when I changed my earrings out or whether my hair was back or up on a given day. “You mean it’s for me? Not just to borrow?”

“Of course it is for you. Who else did I make a takeaway lunch for?” Ev bristled a bit. “But it is for after. Don’t forget to grab it if you are…pressed for time.”

“After.” I leaned against the counter, content to let him orchestrate this show. “And I’m going to be pressed for time?”

“Very.” And then he was finally on me, pressing me against the cabinets with a hard kiss. He tasted like strong coffee and sugar and a whole lot of pent-up lust. Breathing hard, he pulled away to tug me down a side hall I hadn’t seen before. “Someday I’m going to do very improper things to you in that kitchen.”

“Promises, Ev, promises. Show me this room with a door.”

“And a lock.” He raised one dark eyebrow as he opened a doorway. “After you.”

The bedroom was a very Ev space—lots of browns and grays held together with unexpected splashes of color like a teal pillow and a terracotta knit throw draped over the chair in the corner. A full-size bed sat against one wall, and I didn’t care that it wasn’t bigger. We didn’t need a lot of room because I planned for us to be mashed together soon enough. It was higher than normal beds, with drawers under it for extra storage and a thick wooden headboard and footboard.

Because time was of the essence, I toed off my shoes and started to pull off my shirt, but Ev made that disapproving noise of his again.

“Oh, right. Clothing on.” I laughed at him. “I forgot. You are a man of particular tastes.”

“Yes, yes, I am. And right now, my favorite flavor is you.”

Ev kissed me like we had all the time in the world, which was strangely relaxing. He slid his lips over mine with whisper-soft precision—light but expertly angled for maximum tease. I exhaled around the kisses, the rush-rush of my everyday life falling away. We stood next to the bed, but it seemed less urgent now, like it would wait patiently for Ev’s fantasy to unspool. I’d had a lot of kisses over the years from both genders, but Ev was the first to kiss me like I was precious, worth savoring. Ev kissed like I mattered.

His eyes were closed as his tongue finally slipped inside and dominated my mouth, but I felt more seen than I had in years. Every time I tried to start grinding, Ev’s hands stilled my hips. He nuzzled my beard, kissed my ears, licked my neck, blessed my eyebrows and nose with feathery kisses, and still no grinding.

“Please. Ev.” My voice was already lower and needier than usual.

Ignoring my pleas, he expertly fended off my own roving hands as he let down my hair, briefly burying his face in it like he wanted to memorize my shampoo. Pushing the neck of my shirt down, he sucked along my collarbone.

“Killing me here, Ev.” My voice sounded shaky even to my own ears. “I need your skin.”

“You said you like me taking over?”

“Yes—” My answer was edging close to a whine.

“And overwhelmed? Are you not sufficiently overwhelmed?” His voice washed over me, stronger and more erotic than any rope.

“Well—” I started, but he cut me off, tumbling us onto the bed, him on top. “Yes. That. Push me into the bed.”

“You like being held down?” He peered down at me, body already moving to pin me in place before his mouth attacked me again.

“Love it.” I arched against him, just to test the hold he had on me. Delightfully, he pushed me down hard with his pelvis. Not grinding, but his cock was a thick, solid weight against my own, anchoring me.

Ev took my hands and placed them on the headboard. “Good. Now I’m going to have some fun.”

“Awesome. Use me.” I stretched against him. I needed this, and every cell hummed with awareness.

Ev moved my shirt again to kiss my neck and collarbones. “Keep holding on.”

Then he pushed up the sleeves to kiss and lick at each wrist in turn, kissing each bit of skin he uncovered. I wore two bracelets on my left wrist that the twins had made, and Ev gently moved those aside to lick at my pulse point. It was a simple cotton long-sleeved shirt, but I resolved to wear something with buttons next time we did this.

“Should I be wearing a cardigan for this?” I laughed, trying to distract myself from the very real possibility of coming in my pants at some point.

“Shh.” Ev moved so that he could lick my waist, uncovering a narrow strip of skin, and my next laugh died in my throat. He raised the shirt millimeters at a time, and when his lips finally found one of my pierced nipples, I almost shot on the spot.

“Ev. Seriously. I didn’t bring spare pants.”

“You have very little self-control.” He made a little chiding noise that went straight to my dick before he went back to teasing my nipples with little licks and flicks. I’d gotten them pierced on a whim when I was nineteen, but Ev played them like a finely tuned instrument and made my impulse seem like genius.

And I wasn’t kidding—my balls tightened and I had to start making complicated drinks in my head to keep from exploding. Eventually, mercifully, Ev returned to my waistband and unzipped me, but his microscopic removal technique had me cursing softly and clutching the headboard hard. He kissed everywhere but my aching dick—tops of my thighs, all around my patch of hair, over the arch of my hip bone—until finally my pants were around my lower thighs and my shirt was around my neck. He sat back on his heels, surveying his work like he was very pleased with himself for trapping me with my own clothes and driving me out of my mind.

Then, wordlessly and in one smooth motion, he swallowed my dick down. I arched up, but his strong forearms locked me in place.

“Wait. Want to get you off, too,” I panted. My body was used to very efficient orgasms—five-minute shower specials. On very rare occasions, though, I got a chance to practice edging, and Ev made me feel both like I’d been edging for hours and like I was on the express train to quick and dirty. His nimble tongue danced through whatever restraint I had.

Ev lifted his head long enough to say, “You are.”

“Want to touch you.” I groaned, but my hands didn’t leave the headboard.

My cock still in his mouth, Ev grinned up at me wickedly. He let it slide out of his mouth with a loud plop, a lewd sound that made my balls tighten up. “I have fantasized about this for weeks. You at my mercy. Touching and tasting you until I’ve had my fill. Next time, I will allow you to touch. But right now, I am going to live out my fantasy, thank you very much.”

“When you put it that way…”

“There is much I want to do to you, but if you don’t be quiet…” he trailed off ominously.

“Shutting up now.”

He gave a dark laugh before swallowing me down again. He didn’t deep throat, but that was okay—his dexterous hands teased the base of my shaft and my balls, working in concert with his generous mouth to make me pant and moan. Remembering what Ev had said about noise, I turned my head to bite one of Ev’s fluffy pillows.

“Yes. Bite the pillow. Such a beautiful picture,” Ev praised in between more sucks and licks. I wasn’t touching him and we weren’t even all the way naked yet, but I still felt closer to him than I had anyone in years.

“Fuck, Ev…gonna…” The bastard slowed it down, keeping me riding the edge for what felt like decades, until without warning, he tightened his grip, fingers just this side of too rough on my balls, and that was it. I buried a scream in the pillow as I came. He swallowed greedily around my cock, and the sensation was enough to milk out a few more spurts. The orgasm made my whole body shudder and my hands dropped away from the headboard.

“So beautiful.” Ev sat up, kneeling next to me. He wiped his face delicately with a towel at the foot of the bed.

“You planned ahead.” I laughed. I patted my chest and shoved a pillow behind my head. I wasn’t moving, but I needed his cock. “Your turn now.”

Ev considered my offer like it was a choice of entrees, head tilting to one side. “In my…fantasy, I shot on your stomach. Because you are good with being made a mess.”

Hot as the image of Ev jerking off was, I was desperate to taste him. “Fuck. That’s hot. Let me suck you until you’re close, then you can make all the mess you want on me.”

I liked his curious bundle of quirks—hating wet mess and stuff on his hands but wanting to paint me with his cum. The unwrapping me bit by bit had been kinky and sweet and dirty all at the same time. My cock stirred at the memory, waking up a bit more as Ev unzipped and unveiled a thick, uncut cock with a plump head.

“Fuck. Ev, you’re delicious. Get up here.”

Straddling my chest, he fed me his cock with the same slow deliberateness he’d explored my body, first giving me only the heavy head. My hands bracketed his hips, but there was no question who was driving this show. In my fairly limited experience, some cock-heads were perfectly round, while others were ovals, but Ev’s had an interesting elongated angle to it, giving it an almost elegant flair before the thick crown and ridge of foreskin.

He kept a hand on his dick, controlling how much I could suck, and that bit of bossiness got my motor humming again big-time. It also motivated me to do my best work with my lips and tongue, teasing and dancing over his tip, lapping up the copious pre-cum from his slit. The salty tang of pre-cum had always turned me on, and I loved guys like Ev, who made lots for me to lick up and tease out. Finally, he slid his hand back a bit and gave me more to play with. I groaned as the thick length of him slid over my tongue. He was wide enough that I had to do some oral gymnastics to keep my teeth at bay, but not so long as to tax my ability to take all he wanted to give me.

He found a rhythm of slowly fucking my mouth in long, fluid strokes punctuated by soft curses. If I hadn’t come minutes earlier, his husky whispers combined with the taste of his cock might have been enough to tip me over. He didn’t speed up, but his breathing hitched, and I could tell by the tension in his thighs that he was getting closer. He started going deeper, little jerks of his hips now, not pulling all the way back. My eyes watered and my throat stung and the sensations washed over me in a perfect wave as my focus narrowed to only him and his cock fucking my mouth, him owning me so thoroughly that I needed him for my next breath.

“Siktir.” Ev moaned the word. I didn’t have to speak Turkish to know he was almost there. I loosened my grip on his hips so he could slide backward, jerking himself with a surprisingly loose grip over my bare stomach. Less than five strokes and he was covering me with thick ropes of cum that pooled on my belly.

“My imagination is clearly not good enough,” Ev panted, staring at his handiwork for a long moment. Eyes locked on his, I dragged a finger through the puddle, then brought it to my mouth, licked it clean.

“Dirty man.” Ev laughed approvingly as he fumbled for the towel, first gently dabbing at his dick, then cleaning me up with a tender thoroughness before collapsing next to me.

“Mine either.” I touched his face, pulling him closer. He smiled at me for a long moment, and I had a feeling he was trying to decide if he was okay with tasting himself on my lips. Just when I was about to roll away, he surprised me by capturing my mouth in a soft kiss. We made out like that for several long minutes, trading little kisses and touches.

“Oh, Brady, I want—”

Beep. Beep. Beep. The alarm clock on Ev’s nightstand beeped angrily. I glanced at the time and winced. “Fuck. I’m going to be late!”

“Hence the alarm.” Ev sat up and rubbed his face. I scrambled to rearrange my clothes and get my shoes on. “Don’t forget your lunch!”

As I hurried down the stairs, lunch tote in hand, I realized Ev had never finished his thought. All the possibilities made my stomach flop around. Over at the People’s Cup, I got my hands washed and my apron on with two minutes to spare. I had to simply hope that what Ev wanted was what I wanted, and that for once in our lives, we might actually get it.