Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) Page 4

  Afterward I went home, and instead of heading to my apartment, I decided to pay a visit to my downstairs neighbor. Another big mistake. For years I’ve had this sex-no-strings arrangement with my downstairs neighbor. It changes every year. As they move out, I restart with whoever moves in. Of course, sometimes it ends early when they expect more from me, and I have nothing to offer. That’s the case with Serenity. She pressured for a real relationship—boyfriend status—and we decided that our relationship had become a hassle for us both. Also, it made me realize that I’m too old to continue along this lonely path.

  To top it all off, Tristan arrived fucked up around midnight, making me wish I was an asshole that would take advantage of his drunken state. I didn’t. I had to peel him off my body while my own begged me to make an exception. He was ready to take off with me. We could’ve done pretty amazing things together, except, he wouldn’t have been doing it consciously. If I have him, he has to be a willing participant body, not so drunk on whiskey he’d forget what we had together. Sometimes I pity him. When he’s close by, I sense his sadness, his struggles. Something is eating him inside. Whatever happened to him destroyed a part of himself. Maybe it’s an ex, his family, or his own fear to be himself. He’s alone. That’s what he screamed last night. His wailing voice was a knife that sliced through me, but instead of heading back to aid him, I went to take a cold shower before I regretted my own actions.

  The drive to my apartment doesn’t take more than a half hour. I leave my Jeep in front of the penthouse for Joe to park and head inside the building. I’m tired enough to fall asleep. Maybe I will be able to squeeze a three-hour nap before my flight. That should adjust my fucked-up mood. Or not, I think as the elevator doors open and my roommate appears.

  Fuck!

  Tristan’s forehead drips with sweat and the fucking jerk isn’t wearing a shirt to cover his well-defined torso. Those fucking chiseled muscles glisten making my mouth water with the desire to lick each one of them. Yesterday he threw himself at me, and today he’s half-naked. A man can only hold himself off for so long. My dick comes to life the moment I lay my eyes on his full lips. The ones that kissed me with an intense passion and left me breathless for an entire night. Down, boy, down, I order, but he’s not having it. In fact, he wants to have him—Tristan.

  “Feeling better?” I question, stepping in.

  He glares at me then switches those piercing eyes toward the closing doors.

  “Sorry about . . . I drank too much.”

  “Really?” I say, my eyebrows raised. “I barely noticed. Want to clue me in on what happened?” He shakes his head. “Next time I might not be able to contain myself, Cooperson. You’re fucking hot. I’m not strong enough to let a guy like you slip away.”

  I’m half kidding and half serious about it. Next time he throws himself at me, I will not stop. Unless he’s too wasted, then I might shove him onto my couch and let him sleep it off.

  “You won’t?” His tone is defying, and he stops the elevator, slamming me against the glass wall. His body presses against me, his mouth lingers close to mine. My breath hitches in anticipation, my cock pulsates against his. Fuck, his body wants this as much as mine does. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

  His mouth smashes against mine. An agonizing grunt escapes me. I don’t waste a second and kiss him back. My lips move hard and fast. My tongue demands access and I plunge it inside his mouth. My hands hold on to his slim waist, pressing his body against mine. I push him toward the opposite wall grinding my pulsating dick faster against his. Fuck, I will come fast and hard if he lets me continue this assault.

  Tristan doesn’t resist. I savor the moment. Enjoy every second of it. His spicy taste makes me want to do more to him. My cock throbs begging for more. I run one hand through his hair, and his long dark strands electrify my fingers, energize them with a current that makes me want to explore him for the rest of the day. Our tongues dance together while we both touch. I nip his bottom lip and then run my mouth over his powerful jaw until I reach the end and suck his earlobe. Then lower back to his neck and onto his shoulder where I suck his tender skin, marking him. Tristan shivers against my body.

  He’s about to be mine.

  “Let me make this good for you, baby,” I offer, as I glide my hand from his head all the way down to the elastic of his gym shorts. I cross that barrier and grab his thick, throbbing dick. “Tell me how you want me to make you come. With my mouth or my hand. I can palm you as I fuck that firm ass of yours.”

  I circle the tip of his moist cock with two fingers. As they’re wet with pre-cum, I move them to his behind, and thrust them inside his precious hole. They go in easily. He closes his eyes while I move in circles. I knew it; he likes to bottom. Fuck, he’s a bottom. He’s the perfect kind of guy for me.

  My mouth waters at the thought of the kinky things I can do to this fine specimen if he lets me. The toys we can use to play around. A vibrating plug in that sweet hole while I take him with my mouth. God, my dick and my mouth water just imagining what we can do. That sole picture is taking me to the edge of the abyss where we’re about to fall—if he lets me. As I’m about to insert a third finger, he shoves me away from him.

  “Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” His raging voice matches the frigid posture.

  My body freezes at his words, and I make sure he’s sober. Maybe he’s still drunk or just plain hates me. Or likes to make me suffer. His dark eyes produce a hate-hurt wave that stares at me for a few long breaths. Tristan shakes his head and taps on the elevator board to let the doors open.

  “What is it?” I finally recover my breath. “You’ve been driving me crazy since the day I met you.”

  He huffs at me. Trying to recover that business-dark-mysterious glare. Meant to impose some kind of fear that I don’t believe at all.

  “You want me too, Tristan.” It’s an accusation.

  “Not the fucking point.” He lets out another long breath while opening the door of the penthouse. “I can’t.” He taps his temple with his index finger once. “I know it’s wrong, unnatural. Plus, I don’t want anyone to know that I like to have sex with men too. I can’t.”

  Wrong? Unnatural? Different thoughts swarm inside my mind. Who the hell told him all that shit?

  God yes, I want to fuck him so bad, my balls ache when I see him. However, I’m not planning on having any kind of physical relationship with a closeted man. Wait, a relationship . . . That’s a mouthful. I don’t have that capacity, at least I don’t think so.

  “You’re hot, Matt. And yes, I want you to fuck me hard. But I don’t let anyone touch me that easily—guys the least. For you though . . .” I arch an eyebrow, interested in what he’s telling me. He scratches the nape of his neck and scans the apartment. “How did you know? That . . . I like guys too?”

  “A gift.”

  My heart pounds and my legs are about to give up as panic runs through me. What the hell was I trying to accomplish by kissing Matthew Decker? This weekend is the worst of my entire life. First, I’m so wasted I almost undress myself and beg him to fuck me. Next, I let him finger me while kissing me inside the elevator—sober. The pent-up energy I released during my workout is now back, causing havoc inside my body.

  “What do you want, Tristan?” Matthew asks. I lift my gaze to find a set of cobalt crystals staring my way. For some fucking reason, they remind me of the rock from the bartender, and the three words “you’re not alone.” Maybe I’m not alone, and maybe he’s a good guy who will respect my limits. “Ask yourself what you really need. I’m willing to give it to you, but only if you’re sure.”

  What I want and what I need are different from what I should do, and how I should act. That’s a fucking tongue-twister, damn it. I’m twisted into knots that I can’t untangle when Matthew is around, and his presence isn’t helping me to settle down.

  “Yes, I’m pushy, but I won’t push you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Matthew takes a step closer to where I stand. M
y heart rate accelerates. I don’t know how to react, what to tell him. His shoulders relax and a grin appears before he speaks. “I can make you reach places that no man has ever taken you before.”

  He releases a full-blown laugh as if he has said the best joke of his life. I miss the punchline, but the sound brings me some relief.

  “Tell you what. Today we take it slow,” he says, as he takes my hand and pulls me toward the couch. “I’ll take care of that.” Matthew points to the tent I sport.

  Our gazes lock, his heavily lidded and lust-filled eyes only make me want him more. I want to say yes, but I fear that after I come back from the high, I’ll regret everything I said. I don’t want to lose Matthew’s friendship. In three days I’ve come to like him, to enjoy his company, and whatever crazy ideas he comes up with.

  We stand face-to-face, only inches apart from each other. I don’t say a word, but I kiss him again. His tongue is in my mouth the moment I part my lips, and I let him fuck me with it while our lower bodies grind against each other. His hands push down my gym shorts and I let out a soft moan the moment he frees my cock.

  Matthew withdraws his lips. His eyes narrow and he asks, “Are we good?” I nod. “You want me to stop?”

  “I’ll punch you if you do,” I half joke.

  As soon as I say that, he pushes me onto the couch. His mouth goes back to the task of mauling my mouth. I groan and arch my body searching for some friction, but I don’t find anything. My hand reaches my dick, and I stroke my shaft.

  “No, I’m in charge of your pleasure today.” He removes my hand.

  I interlace my fingers through his hair while he starts kissing me again, his body finally on top of mine. Our hips grinding against each other, his cock rubbing against mine. Fast. Rough. I welcome the friction though I’m about to explode.

  “Fuck. Wait,” Matthew says, releasing my body. He pushes himself off me and rushes through the place. My lungs work double time to suck in enough air, and I can’t beg him to come back. Thankfully it doesn’t take him long to return with a tube of lube. “Ready, baby?”

  I nod at him.

  Matthew flips the cap, squeezes a generous amount of lube into his hand, and opens my legs at the same time that he drops his head to take my cock inside his mouth. I push deeper inside his mouth as his finger penetrates me. I want to push my ass toward it, beg him to finish what he began in the elevator, but I can’t while I’m fucking his mouth. Damn, my entire body is begging for him to throw me from the ledge. I want to fall, I want to fly.

  “Take me,” I cry out as he pushes another finger inside me, his tongue swirling around my dick. His tongue stops the assault as his mouth sucks me and he takes me all the way down his throat. “Don’t stop, never stop.”

  He doesn’t stop, but his mouth slows its tantalizing pace. The lazy, strokes match the penetration of his fingers. He’s tormenting me from both sides. Those cobalt eyes find mine and I notice a crinkle at their edges. Fuck, he’s enjoying this. He releases my cock and his tongue licks it while reaching my balls. He licks them first, then sucks each sac while his fingers continue fucking me, and just as I’m about to fall from the edge, his mouth captures my cock again. My balls tighten as my release shoots inside his mouth with a force I’ve never felt before.

  Matthew continues sucking my cock while I’m trying to recover my breath and slow my heart rate. When he finishes, he shifts slightly and his face is now close to mine. That lazy smile appears along with his dimple.

  “Next time you feel uneasy, call me,” he says, giving me a peck on the lips.

  I struggle to catch my breath. “I . . . Yes. Can we keep it between us?” I ask, more like beg.

  His answering light smile gives me some hope. “For now, yes, I can do that. I’ll give you some time to come to terms . . .”

  Come to terms? Fuck, in the past fourteen years I haven’t come to terms with anything. An old familiar panic surges through my body. Fuck I want that thick, long cock inside me, but for how long can I keep this up?

  Shit.

  “Thank you for helping me tonight, Matt,” I say, while closing the safe with tomorrow’s deposit.

  As I turn my attention to him, his cocky gaze is fixated on me. Damn, I want him to kiss me again. Maybe fool around with him. Shit, I sound like a teenager, but the thought of being with Matt . . . My heart thunders against my ribcage and my breath hitches at the mere thought. Perhaps soon I can take a huge step—with him. One I haven’t taken since . . . since Blake.

  “Come home with me, Tristan.” He steps closer placing a soft kiss on my lips. “I want a taste of you, baby, to make you mine.”

  My eyes widen as my body freezes. “It’s been a long time, Matt. I’m not sure if . . .” Sounding stupid, I trail my words and my gaze.

  He cups my face with both hands. “You haven’t had sex lately?” I shake my head. “When was the last time?” He crooks an eyebrow.

  “Almost a year—with a woman,” I confess.

  “And a man?”

  I can’t meet his eyes, but I won’t lie to him either. “You know the shit that goes through my head, Matt.” I scratch the back of my neck. “Just once, I’ve only let one man take me. Since then I take care of it myself.”

  His hands knit through my hair. He lowers his lips touching mine. This kiss is soft, slow, and dare I say sweet. No man has ever kissed me the way he’s doing, as if baring my soul, while promising that he’ll take care of me. And with that kiss I let him take me for a late dinner, knowing that I’m safe with him.

  After dinner, I agree to come with Matt to his family home in Santa Barbara. He has the power to convince me to do pretty much anything he wants. The dark night doesn’t allow me to appreciate the home. As we enter the house through the garage door, I only set foot on the hallway that leads to a set of stairs, and the powder room.

  After washing my hands I make my way toward the illuminated foyer, but the softly played melody stops me. It comes from the second door on the right, so I walk in the direction of the music. Matt sits behind an elegant, black grand piano. His head sways, his eyes are closed, and his hands effortlessly stroke the keys. My eyes concentrate on him, his graceful movements and the music he brings to life with each note he plays, connecting with the instrument, making it his.

  “Sometimes I forget you’re a musician,” I say. His eyes open and he stops playing.

  “You play Without A Compass at your venues.” He delivers a cocky smile. “Mostly my music, not Jacob’s.” He winks.

  I roll my eyes. His ego is as big as his . . . fuck. I need to stop thinking about his dick. “It’s the same band, and I don’t play anything, my DJ does.”

  Matt rises from the piano bench and walks toward me. “Yeah, yeah, we were a band, but I composed the fun, snappy tunes.” He brushes my lips with his. “Our styles are different, and I have never written a real love song.” He shrugs. “Not that it matters. I’m happy with what I write. Maybe someday I’ll fall in love and the muse will strike me with the cheesy stuff. For now, let me take you to my room and make you mine.”

  His.

  I push a hand through my hair. How I wish that I could let myself be his. Just the thought of looking at a guy makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. Dirty. Shameful. Remorse tries to force its way inside my head, but for tonight I’ll push it away. My head is so messed up. Jesus. Thinking about another guy, touching myself when I do so, or . . . Right after the guilt and shame takes over me, I disengage. These days I hate everything about that mental process. All of it, how it makes me feel. The shame. It covers my time with Matt with a dark shadow that doesn’t let me enjoy it in full. The moments we work together at my bars, or when we watch sports or movies. The nagging voice which says that what I’m doing with him is wrong, unnatural. Because even if our previous time together has been harmless, my thoughts have not been. During our time together, I spend it lusting after him. Wishing I could touch him and do so much more than just be close by.

&n
bsp; “You’re thinking again.” Matt curses under his breath, caressing my jawline with his lips. “Bed. We need a bed to stop that big head of yours from working. Tonight we’re going to move forward, babe.”

  Forward, fuck yes. His words tilt my entire world on its axis, my heart thudding with anticipation. He takes me to the upstairs area, the second bedroom to the left. The moon coming through the window illuminates the room, and as a result his eyes sparkle.

  I realize I’m trembling. My entire body feels like it’s over-heating. We’ve reached a turning point, and our relationship will be different once we cross it. “There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing, Tristan, nothing.” He steps closer to me and I drop my head down on his shoulder. His words remind me so much of Blake’s before . . . For a few breaths I forgot, I allowed myself to cross the barriers. But after I came down from the high, the memories slammed back. Will that happen again? “I won’t force you to stay, but I will force you to enjoy every second while you’re with me, baby. I promise to take care of you.”

  And with the steely look of determination in his eyes, the last of my defenses crumble to the ground. “I need you, Matt,” I say, running a hand down his back, feeling each of his muscles under his skin. “Make me yours for now.”

  “For now?” He chuckles lightly, moving his hands between us, zipping down my pants and reaching for my cock with his big calloused hand. “Maybe I will make this last longer than usual. I want to be inside you so bad that I might have you all night long, or even until next Sunday.” My groin tightens with those words. Yes, how I wish I could stay with him that long. My thoughts disappear as I feel his hands reach my backside, squeezing it hard. “I want you so damn much that I can’t think straight any longer.”