Page 41 of AJ’s Fire

“Only if …” he started to protest, and I put a halt to the overthinking for both of us by grabbing his dick and plunging it into my mouth.

Josh had tried to tell me, more than once, how much of a turn-on it was to be on the other end of a blow job, Vance agreeing in his quiet way, but I’d shrugged them off, never really giving it much thought before Thanksgiving.

I was for fucking sure thinking about it as I held Jackson firmly in one hand and pumped my head up and down quickly, a licking, slurping mess. I angled my head to watch him, and the move had him arching and moaning. He lowered himself quickly and looked at me as if the thrust had been too much. I still had him in hand, and it helped to regulate our movements, so I kept it up, tilting my head his way and looking him in the eye as I sucked up and down his dick. I could feel him leaking inside of me, sense his body thrumming underneath me, and I could see it in his eyes, the lust and the passion and something else too.

My best friend. I could see my best friend, the man I trusted, the man I wanted to spend every minute with. And we had spent almost every minute together over the past five years, except for moments like the one we found ourselves in that snowy night.

The realization hit me, like the hot blast of a four-alarm fire. Jackson Dorso was all I wanted. All I’d ever wanted since practically the moment we’d met. My heart called out, and I was about to pull off, to confess everything, but when I let go of him with a pop, the sound hit us both. He let out an “Ungh,” and the reverberations from it, coming from deep in his chest, felt like they’d launched themselves through my own chest and traveled to my arousal. I could feel it stiffening even more. Tightening in that way that produced so much pleasure it felt a little bit like pain.

“Uh-huh,” I agreed before I was right back on him, my hand and mouth meeting time and time again, my other hand finding my dick and following the rhythm.

I kept my head tilted to look at him, and he propped up on his elbows. “Need to see you,” he huffed out desperately, and I twisted myself around so he could watch me work myself over.

He leaned in, and I thought he was going to reach for me, but instead he shot up straight and pushed me off of him. “Baby, no! Gonna come.” My hand was still tight on him, and he wrapped his around it long enough to pump himself once, twice, then he was coming again, both of us watching as spurt after spurt shot up, landing on his chest.

He stared in wonder as cum rolled down our intertwined hands. Then he looked from his dick to mine and reached for it.

I pressed the center of his chest until he was lying back down on the pillows.

“You didn’t have to push me off,” I said as I raised his hand to my mouth. “I wanted to try to swallow,” I breathed on his filthy hand before licking up the stream of cum. He moaned again and arched back, those abs, that fucking chiseled, defined, sweaty fireman’s chest on more than display, presented to me, offered up for me to worship.

I straddled his waist and ran my hands over his chest. He was lightly hairy all over, and I loved the coarse feel of it on my calloused hands. I loved more how he arched up again and moaned into it.

“Do you want a taste, cariño?” He watched me, eyelids drooping, his face exhausted yet sated as I slid further up his body. He didn’t speak, he simply opened his mouth and tilted back. I began to jack myself off, so close to his face I tapped his lower lip a few times, his tongue peeking out and chasing it, desperate for it.

When I was with women, I focused so much on not losing too much control, never wanting to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing; never wanting to go too far and certainly never wanting to spill my feelings to a hookup from a bar. With Jackson, I found myself babbling truths that I needed him to hear, needed him to know. “I can’t wait, Jax. I can’t fucking wait to do everything with you. Whatever you want, for as long as you want. However you want. Do you understand me, Jackson?” I looked down to find him chasing after my dick with his mouth, and oh my fucking God, I had never seen anything so desperately sexy. I came on the spot, declaring, “I’m yours,” as cum splatted Jackson’s chin, his cheek, and holy fuck, his tongue.

His bottom lip dragged up my tip as he closed his mouth and swallowed my offering. I stayed perched where I was, on my knees above him, my spent dick still close to his mouth, his face and chest still a mess. He was flushed, his hair damp and every which way, his lips cherry red and swollen. I imagined I looked the same as we both took in deep breaths.

He hoisted himself up to a seated position, and I tried to move off him, but he put a hand on one thigh to hold me in place. Once he was propped up on pillows and sitting underneath me, he bent his knees, and with a gentle push of that hand on my leg, encouraged me to sit back.

I pulled my legs out from under me and did just that, resting my big frame on his thick, strong thighs. I could feel the scratch of hair on my back and his softening dick nestled in my ass. I was bigger and taller than Jackson and should have felt ridiculous perched on top of him like that.

He moved in close, almost hesitantly, and wrapped his muscled arms around me, burying his head in my neck. I put my weight on him completely and wrapped my arms and legs around him. There was absolutely nothing ridiculous about it.

Eventually, he started to cry softly, tears pooling on my shoulder.

“Jax?”

“I won’t hold you to it, AJ,” he muttered into the crook of my neck.

“Jax?” He remained quiet as he continued to soak my shoulder where he had tucked himself in like he was hiding from me. And I just let him. A gust of wind brought swirling snow to the second-floor window as if I’d asked it to confirm that we shouldn’t think about leaving the cabin any time soon.

Eventually, Jackson shuddered out a breath. “Cariño?” I implored, the word feeling natural and right on my tongue. “Let’s get cleaned up. Then we’ll talk, okay? Whatever this is, we’ll talk it through.”

He looked at me with those puppy-dog eyes and nodded. “And then it’s whatever you want,” I assured him. “Since we’re not due at the station until tomorrow evening, and it’s really coming down out there, I say we shower up, then go finish that platter of food you bought.”

Those hazel eyes stayed locked on mine as he nodded pathetically and pushed away from me. I hadn’t noticed how tightly I still had him wrapped up, like I never wanted to let him go. Like I wanted to convey my every feeling through touch. He stood in front of me, a sweaty, sticky mess, and I wanted to reach out for him, to kiss him senseless again and maybe even go for round three. I felt like a fucking teenager.

“I’ll use the master. There should be towels … Well, you know where the towels are, in that closet by the guest bath.” He pointed out the bedroom door and started to turn. I bounded off the bed and allowed my instincts to take over, yanking him by the arm until he was turned around and facing me. I wrapped him in my arms and kissed him soundly.

“Together,” I muttered into his mouth before pulling back slightly so I could be inspired by those eyes. “Don’t you dare take off to your grandparents’ room. I’m not ready to let you go yet. Not ready to not be touching you.” I kept hold of his hand as I turned, and he followed behind me. “We shower together,” I declared, feeling very caveman. It was another instinct I would never have felt comfortable showing to anyone but my best friend.

He stopped for the towels, and I entered the bathroom and started the shower. It was a fairly standard tub-and-shower combo, and as I stood with my hand under the stream to test the water temperature, I heard him approach, but he didn’t join me, so I had to turn to find him standing in the door frame, taking me in.

“I don’t want this dream to end, AJ, but …”

“But what, Jax? Why does there have to be a but? You and I have always gotten along. We’d always rather be with each other than with anyone else. Now we’ve found something else we like to do together. Why does there have to be a but?” I asked again, holding out my hand for him.