Us Mary Calmes June 2011
It was after six when he finally walked through the front door of his loft. When I turned, I saw him shaking rain off his trench coat before hanging it up on one of the wooden pegs. "Hey," I smiled at my boyfriend Davis Boone as I turned from where I was staring out the window at the lights of downtown San Francisco. "You're late." "I called," he said, his voice husky. "You didn't pick up." "I probably didn't hear it." My mouth had gone dry. Something about the way he was looking at me... He crossed the room, reached out and put a hand on the back of my neck. "You look nice." I told him. He was standing there in a black suit with a charcoal gray dress shirt underneath the jacket, open at the collar, showing a hint of the white T-shirt underneath. His tie was nowhere in sight. "I look like I do every day after work," he said, staring at my mouth. "Yeah, but I don't normally see you," I told him, trying to calm down. I had the strongest urge to grab him and kiss him, then throw him down and make love to him right there on his living room floor. It was like I hadn't seen him in days instead of just nine short hours. We had flown in from Chicago two nights before because I was finally able to travel and the long-distance love of my life had insisted that I come home with him for the two weeks of recuperation time that my captain had made me take. Being shot and thrown into Lake Michigan, left for dead, had made people worry. Davis had been a basket case, especially since I hadn't been the one to call him. He got the news from my mother that her son, the homicide detective, was fighting for his life in the hospital. I had woken up to find him hovering over my bed looking worse than I had ever seen him. Even when his parents threw him out of the house and out of their lives for being gay, he hadn't looked quite so bad, quite so pale. "I'm okay, baby," I had told him, reaching for his hand. He had clutched mine so tight, his beautiful blue eyes swimming with tears. "As soon as they let you out of here," he sucked in his breath, "you're coming home with me, Cam. Swear it." "Oh, I promise," I smiled as my eyes fluttered closed. "Sounds like heaven." "Cam?" His voice brought me back to the present. "You okay?" he asked, studying me. I just stared into those magnificent cobalt eyes of his. "I missed you today. I'm so sorry I had to go in."
"Life of a litigator," I teased him. "There was no way around it, but I'm all yours now for the next nine days." I leaned forward and kissed him, breathing him in, pushing my tongue inside his mouth as he parted his lips and let me. Something about him submitting to me was always so sexy. I groaned deep in my throat, put my hands flat on his chest, pressed against him, and kissed deeper. He made a noise in the back of his throat and I felt myself get hard. It was time to stop since we were supposed to be going out, so I tried to pull back. "No-no," he breathed against my mouth, hands on my face to keep me there, but I had to step back to catch my breath. He crossed his arms, leaned against the wall and looked at me. "What's with you?" I asked him, swallowing hard. I saw his jaw muscles tense as he shook his head just barely. "Tell me." "You," he said like I should go first. "I just wanna put my mouth all over you," I said honestly. "Okay," he smiled at me, his dimples appearing like magic, his eyes firing. I tried to smile but I was suddenly aware that it was raining again. Water snaked down the window glass and that, combined with the lights and the darkness, soothed me. It had been a cold gray day, my favorite--the kind of day best spent in bed under the covers watching movies. Had Davis been able to stay home with me that would have been heaven. But as it was, I hadn't stepped foot out of his loft. I was still working on getting stronger, still recuperating from the shooting that had nearly taken my life. I realized how much I didn't want to go to dinner with his well-meaning friends; home with Davis was where I wanted to stay. "Cam?" I turned to him. "Tell me what's wrong with you?" He shrugged, "Same old story. Nothing's changed." "Like what?" "Like I love it when you visit and it kills me just a little when you leave." I nodded. "Then maybe we should think about me moving here." He froze in place and I had to smile. His eyes widened before he cleared his throat. "Really?" "Yes, really." "Cameron Mancini, are you screwing with me?"
"No," I chuckled. "Jesus, Cam, I've wanted you here since we agreed to start this thing three months ago." I had known the man forever, since we were kids. We had finally both been in the same place at the same time--heart, mind and soul--and had decided to take the plunge and chance turning a rock-solid friendship into love. "I hated that you were so far away when I got shot," I confessed. "Yeah, I wasn't all that excited about it myself." "So we should maybe discuss the logistics of me moving here and figure out a timeline." "Oh, yes, please," he beamed at me. The way he was looking at me played hell with my concentration and the feeling was back from earlier that I wanted to attack him. "Just move here, move in with me, live with me," he said, leaning in, his mouth hovering over mine. "I would be the happiest man alive." "Yeah?" I smiled. "Yeah, I want you with me more than anything." I put my hand on the back of his neck and pulled him to me. I licked his lips before I kissed them, ran my tongue inside his mouth, and then pushed in deeper. He tasted so good. "Come to bed," he said gruffly, his mouth on my neck, kissing, sucking. His hands under my T-shirt on my skin were so warm. "Not yet," I said and sank to my knees in front of him, my hands on his belt buckle. "Oh, God," he moaned and braced himself on the counter, gripping it for support. I smiled when I heard him catch his breath, thrilled that I could cause that reaction before I took the long hard length of him down the back of my throat. "Jesus, you're gifted." I smiled around his cock. "Oh please, Cam." I sucked and laved, bathed and licked. When he came apart under the twin assault of mouth and hands, bucking against me, coming hard, I swallowed it all down, holding him through shuddering aftershocks. "Cam." My name came out of him breathlessly and I liked the sultry sound. "I wish I could do the caveman thing and throw you over my back and carry you off to bed." "It's not necessary." He smiled, his eyes glazed and heavy-lidded. "Just lead, I'll follow. I always follow."
I turned and walked toward the other side of his loft where behind a wall of glass, his bed waited. When I stopped and turned, he was right there. "What do you want?" he asked. "I want you naked on the bed." Wicked, wicked smile as he started shedding clothes very fast, not giving a damn about how expensive his suit was, wanting only to comply with my wishes. As I went to his nightstand and retrieved the lube, I heard his breath catch. "You missed me," I said, stating a fact. "Oh, yes." Minutes later, as I had one hand on his hip, anchoring him down and the other on the small of his back as I slowly entered him, he told me again that yes... I had been missed. I loved feeling the muscles in his back working, loved watching the thick, hard length of me slide into his silky hole. And the way he writhed under me, the way the muscles in his firm round ass gripped me, made it hard not to come before I even started stroking in and out of his hot, wet, tight channel. "I'm gonna come again," he whimpered. "Baby, please." I thrust hard and deep, my body out of control as I filled him with my release. "Oh, yes," he purred contentedly. I collapsed on top of him and he laughed as he was pinned to the bed. "Shit, I'm sorry, I've got no stamina." "Do you hear me complaining?" I smiled into his thick blond hair. "Kiss me," he begged. I eased out gently so I could roll him over on to his back and take possession of his mouth. The kissing was endless; I couldn't seem to stop, even though the inside of my mouth and my tongue felt raw, and my lips felt swollen and bruised from kissing. We finally parted because our dinner date was looming and we both had to shower. "What're you doing?" I asked, then chuckled when I realized what he was doing. Instead of getting ready when he got out of the shower, he had stretched his long golden body out on the bed and was lying there, looking up at me, eyes unfocused as if he was under a spell. "We're gonna be late." I smiled at him, admiring the lines of him. "You like looking at me." "Yes." Everybody loved to look at him--the man was gorgeous after all. "You like touching me, too.
"No good can come of this," I assured him, pulling on my pale blue cotton dress shirt and fixing the collar before I started buttoning it up. "Come kiss me some more." He taunted me, rubbing his stomach slowly, seductively, his eyes heavy lidded, his lips with the hint of a smile. "You know you want to." His voice was full of gravel. "No," I grunted, turning toward the bathroom because I needed to shave. "It's too much. Everybody always said it was." He was up off the bed and in front of me so fast. "What?" I smiled at him, seeing that he was aroused again. What the hell was I going to say to his friends? Sorry, we didn't make it to dinner because we got caught up fucking and couldn't seem to stop? "Nothing." "No. What'd you say?" I sighed. "I love to kiss. Making out gets me all hot, but most guys don't wanna spend that much time lettin' me. I worry that it's taking too long sometimes, so I stop before I'm ready to, ya know?" He nodded, reached out and put his hands on my face. "You can kiss me as long as you like. Just thinking about your tongue in my mouth gets me hard." It didn't get much better than that. I leaned in and kissed him, trying to make it fast and light so I wouldn't get excited again, but his lips fit mine so perfectly and he made those noises in the back of his throat that drove me crazy. When he trembled, I ended up pushing him down on the bed all over again. I took my time because I wanted to and it felt like there was only us in the world, me and him, together while it rained outside. I couldn't remember ever being so content. We never made it to dinner.