More, Sloan Parker [guided reading books TXT] 📗

Richard threw his head back and laughed. “I'd hope I can have at least some control.” I stroked his cock. His eyes rolled back and he pumped his hips. “Uh... okay. Let's leave the clothes on, but let me at your dick.”

He undid my pants and lay on top of me. We rocked in swift jabs, sliding our dicks together, and came fast. We lay on the kitchen floor, breathless, our shirts lifted, our stomachs slick with our spunk, and our spent cocks lying free.

Some goddamn humping, and it was one of the best fucks of my life.

Richard reached for a kitchen towel and wiped us clean before he fell back onto the floor beside me. “Shit, never thought you'd say yes.”

“Me neither. When you first asked us to stay, I thought I'd be moving to Walter's after two days.”

He rolled onto his side and propped his head on a bent arm. “That was my fear. It only grew the more I got to know you. At first I didn't want to see you leave before you gave us a try. Then I didn't want to see you go because I didn't think I could take you walking out on us.”

I pushed him over and straddled his hips. I drove my lips, my body, my hands against him, letting him feel me, showing him I had no intention of leaving.

I swept my hands under his shirt. I'd never get over the addiction of his skin. My fingers brushed over the scarred flesh. “How'd you get this?”

A laugh rushed out of him. It was almost Matthew's giggle. It took a moment before he could form words. “Matthew asked me that the first week you were here.”

“I never said I was one for heart-to-hearts.”

He lifted a hand to my face. “I never asked you to be.” His fingers stroked my cheek. He dropped his hand and snaked it under his shirt to the edge of the scar by his nipple. “Some homophobic asswipes attacked me at a college party. One of them had a knife.”

“Oh God.” I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my fingers through the blond chest hair, over the firm pectoral muscles. His flesh jumped. Small bumps rose up. The color of his tan skin darkened. My fingertips examined the raised line of flesh.

He sucked in a sharp breath. “Luke.”

I traced the scar to his underarm and back.

“I've never liked anyone touching me there but you.”

Heat rose in my cheeks. “It was bad?”

“I was in the hospital for a week. I lost a lot of blood, and there was an infection. It was full of dirt and glass from the beer bottles. They dragged me pretty far.”

“What happened?”

“I've never hidden who I prefer to sleep with. My junior year I lived in a frat house on campus. Some of the brothers didn't like knowing a gay guy slept in the same house they did. They wanted me out, and beating the shit out of me was their best plan. I lost the fight.”

“That's hard to imagine.”

“It was me against five. I knew I'd never win. Not when I saw the knife. But I couldn't back away. I couldn't let them push me around.” He laid a hand over mine. “No one bothered me again. The rest of the fraternity respected me for fighting— for staying when it would have been easier to leave.” He moved our combined hands along the scar until my palm lay over his heart. “They sent me to a plastic surgeon, but I didn't want it fixed. I wanted the scar.”

“Why?”

“To remind me no matter where I go in life, someone could always have an issue with me. For whatever reason. Because I'm well-off. Because I'm opinionated. Because I'm gay. I can't let people get in my way or I'll never succeed; I'll never get what I want.”

“What do you want, Richard?”

“Right now? I want you to move in with me.”

“I want that too.”

We stared for several moments, watching each other's eyes, lips, and tongues. When the kiss finally came, he met me halfway, and the slow touch said more than the words we'd just exchanged. We didn't make it about anything more than being together— about saying what words couldn't.

We eventually let go, adjusted our clothes, and got off the floor.

Richard righted the chairs and took a seat. “I have to check in with Matthew when he gets home. See if he wants to talk. Maybe help him figure out what he wants to do next.”

“Yeah.”

“Will you be there with us?”

“Sure. But when the talking's done, can we fuck the shit out of him again?”

“Yeah. We're guys after all.” He winked.

I had missed that calm confidence. I didn't like being the reason he'd been upset. He deserved better. He gave Matthew and me a place to stay. He deserved the truth.

I sat across from him. “I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I don't want anyone knowing I'm living here.”

The pleased expression vanished, replaced by a creased forehead and a frown.

“I don't tell people where I'm living. Work never even has my address. I gave them Walter's.”

“Why?”

I sucked in a deep breath. “My father.” Easier to say than I expected. “I don't want him to know. I move around, never stay in one place too long, and he spends a lot of time and money to find me. His way of tormenting me.”

“Why would he want to hurt you?”

“I think he'd do anything to change me; but since he can't, he's been trying to control me, to get me to live the way he wants. I don't think he considers me a son anymore. I'm a challenge for him.” I shrugged. “I'd rather he didn't know. It's less complicated.”

“Okay. I won't tell anyone if that's what you want.”

“Thanks.”

“If you need help with anything, if there's any trouble, you'll tell me?”

I wanted to say I'd handle things on my own, but that would bother Richard. As much as I wanted