Read Accidentally in Love Online
Authors: Jane Davitt,Alexa Snow
Tags: #Romance, #M/M Contemporary, #Contemporary, #Gay, #Source: Amazon
Accidentally in Love (22 page)
“Are you sure?” Tom asked again, and Cal knew his answer was probably going to be the most honest one he ever gave.
“Yes,” he said. “I’m sure.”
Cal reached back to guide Tom’s cock to where it needed to be. It wasn’t going to be a smooth glide in, not even with this much lube. Tom helped him without fuss or comment, the two of them working together, which was as arousing as foreplay in its own way. The necessary mechanics of getting his dick in someone had never been more than a means to an end before, but with Tom staring up at him, his lip caught between his teeth, Cal paid attention to everything, wanting to share it through Tom’s eyes.
God, Tom was looking at him with so much trust. Cal swallowed and sank down, letting the head of Tom’s cock breach him and riding the sharp, not unwelcome burn that quickly faded.
Tom was rigid beneath him, straining not to thrust up, his hands clutching at the sheets now, when Cal wanted them back on him.
“Touch me,” Cal said and didn’t care how desperate he sounded, because Tom had to know just how much Cal wanted him.
Tom reached for Cal, his hands running over Cal’s chest and down to his hips, light touches, pausing whenever Cal made a small sound and repeating the caress. On his knees, Cal found his thighs already screaming a protest after the run earlier. Cal began to work Tom’s cock deeper, craving the moment when he’d be filled completely. His cock was so hard that the first brush of Tom’s fingers over it made him cry out softly. Tom didn’t take his hand away.
God, he was so close, but it was too soon when he wanted to make this last as long as he could. “Tell me something. Distract me.”
“What?” Clearly this was the most stupid thing Tom had ever heard; he settled his other hand on Cal’s hip. “Distract you?”
“So I won’t come. Not yet. Tell me about…about”—Cal was searching for anything—“about your kindergarten teacher.”
Tom laughed desperately. He was trembling with the effort of holding still and letting Cal do all the work. “You want me to tell you about the little old white-haired lady who taught me my ABCs while I’m fucking you?”
“Technically, I think I’m fucking
myself
on
you
,” Cal said. “I don’t care what you tell me about, just talk.”
“I can’t think of anything but you.” Tom groaned softly as Cal lifted himself and sank down again. “Do you know what it was like, living under the same roof with you and not being able to touch you? Made me crazy.”
Cal whimpered and gasped. “That’s not…not really what I had in mind.”
“No? I shouldn’t talk about how much I wanted to do this?” Tom rubbed the edge of his thumb over Cal’s nipple and dragged his other hand up Cal’s cock to the tip. His words were slow, measured, like he was getting a feel for their effect on Cal. “How much I wanted to put my mouth on you, bend you over the dining room table, and shove my cock in your ass?”
Incapable of responding to that with anything more than another whimper, Cal gave up all pretense of waiting and started to move. He rocked back to take Tom’s dick as deep as he could and shuddered, moaning. “Move,” he begged. “Tom, fuck me.”
Tom clamped his hands around Cal’s hips, his grip firm and strong. Without a word, he arched up just as Cal ground down, sending a shock of sensation blasting through Cal. His balls were drawn up high, full, and heavy.
“Fuck, yes,” he gasped. “More. Harder.”
Tom snarled out something unintelligible and began to buck up into Cal, holding him still with a grip that was going to leave bruises shadowing Cal’s skin, not that he cared right then. They found a way to make it work within a few thrusts, Cal lifting up just enough to give Tom space to move. His neglected cock bobbed up and down, and Cal grabbed it, unable to do more than wrap his hand around it but needing it to be surrounded by something. He put his other hand on Tom’s arm, bracing himself, the shift and swell of Tom’s muscles turning him on, another layer of arousal, another stimulus driving him toward a climax that couldn’t be denied for much longer.
He wouldn’t have known what to say even if he’d had the voice to say it, which he didn’t. In his head, Cal could hear an echo of the word
yes, yes, yes
as his body coiled tighter and tighter. The intense pressure of Tom’s cock stretching and filling him, rubbing over his prostate, was driving him crazy. Just a little bit longer…
“Oh God,” Tom gasped. “I’m gonna—
God
—”
There was no way Cal could keep from coming when he felt Tom shooting inside him; Tom’s dick pulsed, and the ripples moved through Cal, shoving him violently over the edge. He gripped his own cock so tightly that it hurt and groaned loudly, shaking and throwing his head back.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Tom said encouragingly as the last few shudders ran through him. “God, you’re gorgeous like this.”
“I’m sweaty and there’s semen in my chest hair,” Cal said. It was stupid, because he knew it was possible for a man to be gorgeous post-sex. He didn’t know why he’d said it.
“Doesn’t matter.” Tom rocked his hips, and Cal’s cock gave a halfhearted throb, one last bead of fluid forming at the tip.
Cal wanted to collapse onto Tom, but that would make a bigger mess than they already were, and he didn’t want to risk turning Tom off the experience. “How was it? Was it what you expected?”
“Ask me when my brain’s not fried.” Tom stroked Cal’s hip, the caress a welcome sign that Tom wasn’t freaking, at least. “I don’t know what to do now either. Is it okay if we split up?”
For one endless moment, his own brain sluggish from pleasure, Cal thought that Tom was breaking up with him. Common sense kicked in before he could make a fool of himself begging Tom to reconsider, and he nodded. “Sure. Let me just lift up, and you hold on to the condom.”
“This bit’s messier than I expected,” Tom said thoughtfully a few seconds later, shrouding the soggy condom in a wad of tissue before tossing the whole thing at a bin in the corner, already overflowing with paper and empty chip packets. He put the tissue box on the bed. “Help yourself.”
“Sex isn’t supposed to be neat,” Cal said. “Bodily fluids all over the place is the fun part. Kind of.”
“Kind of,” Tom echoed, dabbing at his stomach. “God, how does spunk get everywhere? It’s insane the way it spreads.”
“I think that’s the point,” Cal told him. He pulled out a few tissues and wiped his chest. The hairs, darkened with moisture, flattened to his skin and stuck. Really attractive. “I mean, it’s supposed to spread out into the world in search of eggs.”
“Yuck.” Tom frowned and scrubbed at his stomach more vigorously. Cal wasn’t sure if the comment was in response to the thought of procreation or just the mess they’d created together. “Have you thought about having kids?”
“God, no,” Cal said before he could think and realize that maybe Tom wanted them. “Um. I don’t mean no, I don’t want them. Necessarily. More that I think I’m too young to even consider it.”
Getting older all the time, though
. “You?”
Tom shrugged and patted Cal’s thigh, a clear indication that it was time for him to move. Cal did, lowering himself beside Tom and tugging the pillow Tom wasn’t using over so he could rest his head on it.
“Thought about it, sure. I was getting to the point where I thought I might never have a boyfriend, let alone a family.”
Cal reached out and ran his fingertips lightly along Tom’s arm. “You’d be a good dad.”
“You think? I didn’t exactly have a great role model.”
“That’s why. You know what
not
to do.”
“Huh.” Tom mulled that over for a moment and shrugged. “Well, it’s really not making my to-do list anytime soon.”
Thank God
seemed rude, so Cal settled for a noncommittal smile. Usually, he’d be trying to remember where he left his pants around now. For a change, even the thought of getting out of bed didn’t appeal. He wanted to stay beside Tom, breathing in their mingled scents, musky and sweaty, yes, but they were both too well-scrubbed underneath it for that to be an issue.
“Kiss me?” he said, surprising himself.
Tom gave him a puzzled look. “You don’t have to ask. If you kiss me, I’ll kiss you back.”
“I know. I just wanted to make sure that you wanted to. Not everyone likes sticking around after sex for, uh, cuddling.” Explaining it made him sound like an idiot, but he stumbled through somehow.
“Do
you
?” Tom shook his head, a strand of hair falling down over his face. He blew it away with an impatient puff. “Forget that, of course you do, or you wouldn’t have asked. Sure. Come here.”
Cal already was most of the way there, so he willingly snuggled closer, curious about how it’d feel after sex, not before, when his motivations had changed. Tom’s skin was warm, damp from their exertions in places, tasting salty against Cal’s lips when he kissed Tom’s shoulder.
“You don’t have anything you have to do today, do you?” he asked.
“Other than hang out with you? No.” Tom sighed happily and turned his head to press lips to Cal’s forehead. “Okay, this is good. We should just do this. I don’t know about you, but I think I could use a nap.”
“I’m not tired. Happy to stay here, though.”
Tom turned the small TV on—apparently he kept his remote control tucked under the mattress too—and flicked through the channels for a while until he found a movie Cal had seen half a dozen times, though never all the way through. “I think I saw this before,” Tom said. “It’s got that guy.”
Cal knew exactly who he was referring to and didn’t know the actor’s name either. “Yeah. It’s good.”
They watched TV for a while before Tom dozed off. Cal could tell by the even, slow breathing, and a wave of warmth came over him, leaving him with such a sense of well-being that he found himself drifting off to sleep too. He half slept for a while, woke, and snuggled up to Tom, half slept again. It didn’t feel like he’d been sleeping very long, yet suddenly he was awake, the room dark except for the flickering of the TV.
“Hey,” Tom said, his voice a rumble in Cal’s ear because Cal was lying with his head on Tom’s chest. “I was wondering if you were going to just sleep through until the morning.”
“What time is it?” Cal was still drowsy. However, he was becoming aware of a few physical needs that were enough to stop him drifting off again. He really needed to pee, and his stomach was complaining vociferously too.
“About nine thirty. Want to wake up?”
“I want to eat,” Cal said.
“Me too, so I ordered in pizza. It’ll be arriving in about ten minutes, so one of us has to get dressed.”
“Both of us do.” Cal bit gently at Tom’s nipple just because it was there. He didn’t need to be hungry to think that it looked appetizing. “If you stay naked and drip sauce on you, I might lose control and pounce. I’m starving.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want
that
.” Tom pushed Cal off him and onto the bed, depositing a quick kiss on Cal’s nose as if to make up for the unceremonious dumping. “Save cannibalism for our second date.”
“Okay, what part of today was our first date?” Cal asked. “And what happened to my underwear? Oh, never mind. Here it is.” It was tangled together with his pants.
Tom was pulling another of his wrinkled, too-big Tshirts over his head. “I don’t know. The whole thing?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Cal cautiously sniffed the shirt he’d been wearing earlier, shrugged, and put it on. “So is tomorrow our second date?”
“You mean the whole thing?”
“Yeah.”
“Yes? I mean, unless you have other plans.”
Cal shook his head. “Nope.”
“Well, I guess we have plans together,” Tom said. He blinked. “Wow. Okay, that’s…”
“New,” Cal said.
New and improved.
Tom settled himself on the long couch in Cal’s room and glanced over at Cal. He was still fiddling with a complex camera, all zoom lenses and buttons, in a serious matte black. A real camera. Tom owned one, a point-and-snap digital one, four years old and a bright lime green with flowers on it. The color hadn’t been his choice. It’d been on sale, and he’d needed something to take a few photos for a project. It was in a cupboard somewhere, already out-of-date and pixel-challenged, not that he cared about that.
If it’d been a while since he’d taken a photograph, it was years since he’d been the subject of one. He supposed he was in the background of a few taken at parties, but the last formal one, focused solely on him, had been for the yearbook in high school, and he’d looked like he always looked, despite his mother’s best efforts to tidy him up. He’d gone to school that day feeling like a ten-year-old, his hair ruthlessly brushed flat, his clothes chosen for him the night before.
It was a small consolation that by the time his photograph had been taken, his hair, longer back then, had reasserted itself and was a wild tangle.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said. “I’m not photogenic. Not at all.” He fiddled with the top button on his shirt, the new one that Cal had given him for his birthday, and tried to look laid-back, casually relaxed, as if he had his photograph taken often. He’d practiced a few looks in the mirror when he was brushing his teeth and had ended up spraying the glass with toothpaste foam in an attempt to pull off a
Zoolanderesque
Blue Steel.
“Are you kidding me? You’re totally photogenic.” Cal moved over to the windows and adjusted the shades so that more sunshine spread across the room. “There. That’s better.”
He came closer and tilted his head to one side, looking at Tom thoughtfully.
“Maybe I should have given you a drink. Do you think that would help? Help you relax, I mean. The pictures will come out better if you’re not tense and selfconscious.”
None of that did the slightest toward helping Tom relax, of course. Instead, it made him more tense knowing that his worry about this session was so obvious. “Um, sure. If you think it’s a good idea. Just don’t get me plastered.”
“One drink,” Cal promised. He went downstairs and came back in a minute with a glass of what looked like apple juice. Tom found out, upon sipping from it, that it was whisky.
“Whoa. Strong.”
“That’s the point.”
Tom shifted on the couch, slouching a little bit as he drank more, the burn working its way down his esophagus.
“Oh! Like that,” Cal said, his voice intense. “Don’t move. Stay just like that.” He picked up his camera and disappeared behind it, leaving Tom alone in the room again, his boyfriend gone and a stranger in his place.
It was so awkward, being the center of attention like this. Tom found he was grateful for the drink, not just for the mellow feeling it spread through him but also because it was a distraction to hold the glass, to sip from its edge. He did his best to look natural; it wasn’t easy.
“Beautiful,” Cal said, sounding distant, professional now. “Take a deep breath and let it out all at once.”
Feeling idiotic, Tom inhaled, the scent of the whisky burning his nose, waking up his senses. He expelled the breath in a huff and heard the faint
click
of a button being pressed.
“Just relax,” Cal said for the twentieth time. “Don’t look at me. Think about me, though, if you like. Think about what I did to you last night in the kitchen.”
Tom wasn’t aware of his expression changing, but it must have. Cal gave a pleased grunt, and there were more of the faint
clicks
. He tried to control his wayward thoughts.
A blush wouldn’t show—Cal had said that these photographs were going to be black-and-white—but he wanted to get past that stage. So Cal had stopped washing dishes after rinsing out three mugs, spun around, and kissed Tom into a daze of longing; it didn’t mean that he had to blush about it, even if the kisses had moved from his mouth to his neck, the hard, sucking bites against his skin making him go weak at the knees. It’d been Cal who’d ended up kneeling on the floor, though, and it wasn’t until Tom had come with a strangled cry of pleasure that he had realized he was still clutching a tea towel in one hand.
“That’s beautiful,” Cal said softly. “You look so intense, yet unfocused too, as if you’re looking at something only you can see. Mystery man.”
Tom spoiled the moment by grinning, amused at the idea. “I’m really not.” Belatedly, he straightened his face, trying to recreate his expression. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Cal sounded smug. “I got that laugh
and
you’re relaxed now. Why don’t we try some with your shirt open?”
“Huh?” Tom had agreed to let Cal photograph him partially undressed—shyness, not modesty, holding him back—but the straightforward request still startled him. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. If you don’t mind. The end goal here
was
to get some photos of you naked, right?”
Somehow, Tom had almost forgotten that. “Right.” He reached to unbutton his shirt.
“Slowly,” Cal told him. “Like you’re seducing me.”
“It doesn’t feel like you’re even here,” Tom said. “I don’t really feel sexy about seducing the camera lens.”
Cal lowered the camera, his expression surprised. “I hadn’t thought about it like that. Yeah, you’re right. I guess you have to pretend you don’t see the camera. Like there’s nothing between you and me.”
Trying to follow Cal’s instructions, Tom finished his drink and set the glass on the floor next to the sofa. Slowly, more slowly than felt natural, he started to unbutton his shirt while looking straight at Cal. There was no camera, just the two of them, and Tom wanted to show Cal that he could be sexy, seductive.
It was the easiest thing in the world, slipping a button free of the little slit meant to fit it so perfectly. Especially this shirt, which was so well made. Tom was aware that more of his skin could be seen as he undid the third button, glanced down at his chest and back up at Cal again just as the camera recorded another moment.
“Do you remember it?” Cal asked softly.
“Last night?” Tom nodded. “Oh, yeah.”
Cal licked his lips as Tom undid the next button. “Tell me what it was like for you.”
“How do you think it was?” Tom countered, digging his heels in just a little. “Regular sex has only been part of my life for twelve days, eight hours, and forty-two minutes. If you think I’m used to that fact yet, I’m not. You blew my mind along with my dick. How’s that?”
“I’ll accept the days. You’re just guessing about the rest of it,” Cal said. “And you’ve lost that incredibly erotic look, so stop talking if it bothers you and go back to remembering or planning what you want to do to me later.”
“How about I think about you fucking me?” Tom undid the last button. “Because I am. Right now. Even if it hasn’t happened yet, so I have to imagine the way I’ll be moaning out your name and writhing around on the bed begging for more.”
Okay, that had come out with an edge to it, and Cal was giving him a look with more than a little hurt in it. Tom sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that what we’re doing isn’t great, because it is. God, it really is. It’s just I feel as if I’m still in training wheels.”
“I’ve got friends who’ve never done anal ever and don’t plan to,” Cal said. “It’s not mandatory, like learning to parallel park before you get your license.”
“I know that. I might not like it either, but until I try it, I won’t know.”
Cal shrugged. “I’ll fuck you as soon as I’ve finished shooting, if you like. Right there on the couch. You’ll be naked, which will save some time. It won’t take long.”
“Now you’re pissed at me,” Tom said glumly and huddled his unbuttoned shirt around him, feeling exposed.
“You spend way too much time thinking that I’m pissed at you.” Cal put the camera down and came to sit beside him. “I’ll never be pissed at you, okay?”
“That’s stupid.”
“You’re the one being stupid.” Cal put an arm around him. “I’m not mad at you.”
“You’re trying to protect me.” Tom sighed and let himself lean against Cal because it was comforting. “When are you going to believe that you don’t have to?”
“Probably never.” Cal refused to let Tom pull away from him in response to that. “Hey, no, that’s not what I meant. I just mean I’m not going to stop wanting to take care of you. You should enjoy it. It’s not the kind of thing I do for other people.”
“Yeah, you just fuck them.” Tom stroked his hand hopefully along Cal’s bare lower arm to his wrist. “You aren’t seriously going to refuse me forever, are you?”
“No! Not forever.”
“And don’t you want to? You do, I know you do.” There was no doubt in Tom’s mind that Cal wanted to fuck him.
“Of course I do. I’d have to be insane not to want you like that.” Cal turned toward him and took Tom’s face between his hands. “I don’t want to screw this up, that’s all.”
“How can giving me something I want screw things up? It’s sex, Cal, it’s not drugs or…” Tom tried to think of something else dangerous and life-threatening and could only think about the way that Cal was going to be taking pictures of him with an erection because he was hard already, just from being this close to Cal. “It’s just sex. I’ve done it to you, and you liked it.”
“I loved it,” Cal said, his eyes closing momentarily as if he were back on Tom’s bed, Tom’s dick deep inside him, taking every inch and grinding down to get more. Tom heard himself whimper and coughed to cover it up.
“So…”
“So, I’ll do it to you,” Cal murmured, leaning in to brush his mouth over Tom’s. “Soon. I just don’t want to rush you.”
“You’re not.” Annoyance flared as it always did when Cal got too overprotective. “I don’t need you to decide when I’m ready, Cal.”
“Okay, forget that. I just don’t want to hurt you.” Cal's hands fell away. “Look, it’s my issue, not yours. It can hurt; even if I’m careful, it’ll hurt, and after you’ll be sore and kind of raw and tender.”
“You survived it,” Tom said. “I’m not stupid, I know all that. You’re going for a worst-case scenario.”
“No,” Cal said bleakly. “It could get a lot worse than that. Let’s not go there. Yes, I’d be careful, but I don’t want to do anything to you ever that hurts.”
“Pity,” Tom said. “I had this whole ‘tie me up and spank me’ fantasy planned for next Tuesday. Guess I’ll have to substitute a nice wholesome Disney movie, and hey, let’s go wild and have a light beer with our popcorn.”
“Don’t.” Cal pulled away from him, and Tom realized Cal was really upset. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, and I think I might really be an asshole, because it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
“No, you’re just wrong about it being the right thing. That’s not something you get to decide on your own. We’re in this together, remember? Cal.” Tom waited until Cal looked at him. “Don’t beat yourself up over this; it isn’t worth it. Stop denying us something that we both want, and
listen
to me when I tell you I’m not going to let up about it.”
Cal searched his eyes. “I’m listening.”
“I want this, okay? If we have to keep having this discussion, I’m going to start thinking my honesty’s in question.”
“It’s not that,” Cal began, and Tom shook his head.
“Then stop. I know what I’m doing. Believe me.”
Cal drew a shaky breath and reached for Tom’s hand. “Okay. Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m still feeling out this whole decent-human-being thing.”
“No.” Tom put as much conviction into the word as he could. “That you’ve got down, trust me. You’re just too hung up on being my guardian angel, and I don’t need one. Just a boyfriend who thinks I’m perfect and can’t keep his hands off me. Someone I can talk to, share stuff with. Now before this gets any more Hallmark, can I get naked for you and your camera?”
With another shaky breath, Cal nodded and kissed him. He stood. “Yes. Please. That would be great.” He went to pick up his camera again and turned, looking at Tom. “You really are beautiful, you know.”
“Yeah, keep telling me that,” Tom said. “Should I get rid of the shirt?” He was already confident of what the answer would be, so he shrugged it off and tossed it in Cal’s direction.
“Hey!” Cal dodged and grinned. “Okay, huh. Um, can you sort of slouch down, like—yeah, like that. Now undo the button on your jeans and leave your hand there?”
“Like this?” Tom unfastened the button and slid his thumb under the waistband of his boxers.
“Perfect.”
Tom relaxed into what he was doing, his earlier awkwardness melting away in the heat of Cal’s evident approval. Cal was back behind the camera again, and the connection between them wasn’t lost, because Cal kept talking to him, his voice a low murmur most of the time, intimate, unhurried.
Tom moved from one pose to the next, falling into natural positions that Cal’s suggestions subtly tweaked into something that Tom assumed worked better visually. It was more tiring than Tom had expected. Holding his arms above his head in a stretch, his body arched up off the couch, his jeans unzipped, riding low on his hips. That last pose was comfortable for thirty seconds, a strain after that—and Cal loved that position and had him holding it for a while.