With that, Paul leaned back and started pumping his cock in and out of Ace’s clutching hole.
He savored that motion, that insistent, electric movement gaining speed on every pass. Ace could feel every ridge and vein of the invader he welcomed so desperately. And with every thrust, Paul’s perfect cock brushed Ace’s prostate and sent white sparks bursting behind his closed eyes.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh seemed to keep time with the thumping beat of the dance floor. Ace would never again be able to hear that song without getting hard.
The only thing that marred the experience was his view – a dirty dark grey wall instead of those hypnotizing eyes.
What he would give to drink in this man’s body with his eyes, his hands, his tongue.
This one frenzied fuck in Sparks wasn’t going to be enough – not nearly enough. Even as he was stubbornly holding back on this orgasm, Ace was already planning future orgasms, ones he wanted to get started on right now. He wanted to live in this breathless, suspended moment endlessly.
He squeezed down on Paul’s cock to bring their flesh even closer together. A pained, hungry groan spilled from Paul’s mouth.
“God, you’re so hot, so fucking hot,” Paul panted, still snapping his hips against Ace’s ass. “Don’t make me come yet. Want this to last.”
“Can’t help it,” Ace grunted. “Want more. So much more. Come on, fuck me!”
Paul growled low in his throat and sped up his pounding. Ace rode on a wave of pure sensation, so close to the edge of falling over.
“Oh yeahhh, you’re gonna come, gonna come while I’m in you, gonna squeeze my cock with your ass, just like that.” Paul’s rumbling words shot straight to Ace’s balls, which rose up tight against his body. He was moments away from coming, so he reached down to take hold of his aching erection.
Paul slapped his hand away and wrapped Ace’s cock in his right hand.
“Gonna make you come so hard,” he growled. “Gonna pull this load out of you. Want to make you lose your mind.”
Ace couldn’t speak. He didn’t want to break the spell that Paul’s low voice was casting over him. He couldn’t even talk dirty back to him – hell, he could barely breathe.
Paul tugged roughly on Ace’s cock and kept up his relentless fucking.
“Come on, Ace. Do it. Now. With me.”
Ace closed his eyes tight and felt everything stop – everything but the thick spurts shooting from his dick all over the wall. He could distantly feel Paul slam into him one final time with a deep grunt and a shudder.
Reality disappeared, Sparks vanished – all he could feel was bliss, mind-erasing bliss. His breath echoed in his ears, his heated blood rushing palpably through his veins.
As his brain rebooted, Ace calmed his breathing and straightened his clothes. God, what was that? I mean, that was crazy hot, but what was that?
The heat from Paul’s body was noticeably absent, so Ace went looking for him. He wanted a phone number, a date, something. Didn’t want to lose track of this guy.
He made his way back to the bar area, keeping an eye out for Paul.
“What’s the matter, doll?” Jimmy teased. “Lose him already?”
“Did he come out this way?” Ace asked, a little breathless.
“Haven’t seen him.” Jimmy passed a drink to one of the sweaty men crowding around the bar. “Your ride must have turned into a pumpkin. I hear it happens after the ball.”
Ace didn’t respond. He didn’t want to joke about Paul. His heart suddenly felt both tight and empty. Even though he came here to get that persistent itch scratched, now that he’d done so, he felt rubbed raw.
It was official. He just wasn’t built for the back room. That had been Cameron’s milieu, and God knows it worked for plenty of men. But he clearly wasn’t able to come and go in a blink like that. He wanted more – had wanted more from the moment he’d touched that impossibly beautiful man.
And now he was gone, like a half-remembered dream and just as substantial.
Damm.
Paul McDonnell woke mid-morning on Saturday with the odd sensation that he was still drunk.
Yeah, polishing off that bottle of whiskey at home might have been a mistake, he thought.
The room swayed as his brain struggled to regain its fixed position in his head. It was going to take all day to get rid of this patient, extended hangover.
Well, that was just about the shittiest birthday of his life. Except for that one part, of course. The one part that salvaged the whole night.
It still bothered him that he had to resort to going solo to a bar just so he wouldn’t be alone on his damn birthday. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have friends. Right? It’s just that they’re all married now, not likely to ditch the wife and kids for a night out with their bachelor friend Paul.
And Paul wasn’t the type to throw himself a big birthday party – particularly not to celebrate turning thirty-six.
There’s nothing to celebrate about turning thirty-six. Alone.
But when his brother couldn’t even make it out for a drink – thanks to a mandatory dinner with his fiance’s parents – Paul refused to sit in his bland condo in Lawrence and watch the rain fall outside. So after staying lingering over dinner in Kansas City, he took himself out for his birthday.
He’d never been to Sparks before, though he of course had heard of it. Even authentically straight guys knew about Sparks. The only thing that had kept him away was its proximity to his home and work. Usually when he needed to release some tension and be himself, he headed out of town for a weekend or a vacation – somewhere he wouldn’t run the risk of bumping into a patient or a neighbor or anyone who could recognize him.
Coward, he accused himself. Thirty-six and a coward.
He silenced his inner critic with the facts. It simply wasn’t worth it to come out. Why risk the lost clients and the disappointment of his family? He’d never met anyone who could convince him to take that step. If being out meant he could get his itch scratched in Kansas City rather than hundreds of miles away, well, that just wasn’t enough of an incentive.
Still, he couldn’t be completely sorry that circumstances had led him to Sparks last night. Not after the way it turned out.
Thank God for that delicious blond. Paul felt his cock stir just recalling the feel of those curls in his fingers.
From the moment he spotted him, Paul could tell this man was different from all the other surging bodies around him. His confident gaze, the way he held his eyes – Paul could tell this guy was his equal, his match. Someone strong and solid and willing to match him move for move.
And his scent – fuck, his scent. As a chiropractor, Paul spent every day up close with people’s bodies, so he was used to encountering all kinds of odors that linger on the skin. But never before had a man’s skin rendered him stupid with hunger. Ace had intoxicated him. He couldn’t name the elements that combined to form his scent, but it added up to the perfect aphrodisiac.