A Second Harvest (19 page)

He’d just brushed the warm, rigid bulge with the palm of his hand when David hissed and pulled away from the kiss. He grabbed Christie’s hand. Which, fair enough, Christie hadn’t been about to stop touching.

“We’re on the
train
,” David whispered in a wrecked voice, as if Christie had somehow forgotten.

Christie chuckled. “You don’t say. You know they have really big bathrooms on these Amtraks.”

He reached out his fingers again for nirvana, but David held his wrist and moved over to the far side of his seat. His expression was fierce. “I want you in a
bed
, Christie Landon. This is important to me.”

Part of his insistence, Christie knew, was a plea for mercy. Because if Christie pushed, tempted, touched, he could have David, right there on the train. And God, Christie wanted that. But it would be incredibly selfish.

It was not only
their
first time, he reminded himself, but David’s first time with a man, or with anyone other than his late wife. And he deserved all the care, attention to detail, and romance Christie could bring to it. Or at least a damned bed.

Christie took a few breaths, trying to fight his urge for
here
,
now
,
more
, and drew away his hands. He sat back in his seat and looked at the ceiling. “You’re going to kill me. Literally. I have no blood left in my brain. Possibly the opposite of a stroke could happen. Would that be fainting? Yes, I might faint.”

“We’ll be home soon. You can’t possibly want this more than I do.”

Christie turned his head to argue the point, but then he took a good look at David. He was staring out the window at the dark, arms folded hard over his chest, and there was a sheen of dampness on his brow. He was flushed and tense and looked like a loud noise would have him plastered on the ceiling.

Yeah, he was dying for it too.

Christie stood up. “Right. I’m going to go get us both a cup of coffee in the café car because I want you wide, wide awake later. Possibly all night.” With a smirk he moved down the aisle. They both could use a little space.

FOR THE
rest of the train ride, David said very little and tried to hold on tight to what he was feeling. He didn’t care about consequences, didn’t care about religion or philosophy or his late father or what the Bible said. The only thing he cared about was the hunger that had opened up inside him, a glorious hunger that was like a deep, primal maw. It was more absolute and undeniable
than anything he’d ever felt in his life.

That kind of need was precious. He didn’t want to lose it before they got somewhere he could do something about it. But occasionally a thread of an actual thought would run through his brain. He was about to be with
a man
. Christie wanted him. They wanted each other. Christie was real, flesh and blood, with a real cock, which David would be able to touch, suck, rub…. It was a sharp, glittering reality and was blade-edged with need and worked through with faint, lingering traces of nerves.

When they finally pulled into the train station, he and Christie hurried off the train and got into David’s truck. He drove the short distance to Christie’s house, clasping Christie’s hand firmly on the console between their seats. They didn’t discuss where or when, but David needed it to be Christie’s house, at least tonight. He didn’t want to open the doors to memory that would be unavoidable in his own bedroom.

They pulled into the driveway and David turned off the truck. He looked at Christie, hoping to God for an invitation.

Christie bit at his bottom lip. “Do you need to get back to the farm to take care of the animals? You could come back later, if you want.”

“The animals are fine. Earl knew to feed and water them.”

“Thank God! Come in, then.” They got out of the truck, and Christie opened the front door of his house with a key. The door barely shut behind them before Christie turned and was in David’s arms.

They kissed awkwardly, both of them trying to struggle out of their coats at the same time. On some level David heard Christie’s shoes hit the floor, but he could only focus on the heat of the kiss. And then Christie was pressing him against the door, tangling his denim-clad legs with David’s.

David’s hands found Christie’s back and he slipped them under the waistband of his jeans. It was loose, as if he’d already unbuttoned them. He slid his palms down, under the elastic band of what felt like boxers, smoothing over the bare skin of Christie’s flank. His ass was small and firmly rounded. David dragged his fingers down until he felt the lightly furred muscles of Christie’s thighs, the lovely curve where legs met buttocks. He caressed that curve.

With Christie’s tongue in his mouth, their erections grinding together, and his hands cupping Christie’s ass, it was almost perfect. It was almost enough. But David’s jeans were binding, and his hard flesh pressed painfully against his zipper as Christie thrust against him.

He pushed off the door. “Bedroom,” he murmured against Christie’s mouth. He stepped them backward, even as his hands were working on their own agenda. He pushed Christie’s pants and briefs off his hips. They made it as far as the hallway when he felt the top of Christie’s bare thighs and the slap of his freed erection. He couldn’t resist moving his hand around to
feel
and, dear God, the shaft was hot and rigid in his hand. His fingertips encountered the soft, smooth sac underneath, and
oh
.

His knees threatened to give out right there. He wanted to sink down, wherever they were, and see, smell,
taste
. But Christie had a destination in mind. He broke their kiss and pulled David insistently the rest of the way to the bedroom. His pants were around his thighs, so he shuffled adorably. It should have been amusing, but with Christie’s shirttails playing peekaboo with his erection, it was sexy as all get-out.

Christie’s cock was on the big side, as large as it looked in the photograph with the blue pajamas. Maybe it looked especially large because his hips were so slight. It was red and fully erect. The rounded purple head peeked from between his shirttails. David couldn’t keep his eyes off it.

When they reached the bed, Christie let go of David’s hands to kick off his pants, pull the socks off his feet, and his shirt over his head. David watched the reveal and hoped he wasn’t going to hyperventilate.

Christie truly desired him. His eyes were dark blue with huge pupils. His fair skin was flushed pink on his cheeks and chest. And he looked
so hard
. His tip was wet and glistening with precome.

“Can I undress you?” Christie asked, his voice lower than usual.

Only then did David realize he should have been stripping too. Half dazed, he reached with trembling fingers for the buttons of his shirt, but Christie pushed his hands gently aside. He unbuttoned David’s blue shirt from the top down, resisting when David leaned in for a kiss, as if to say:
Not yet. I don’t want to have to stop again.

Christie pushed the shirt from his shoulders, squeezing the muscles there. Then he slid those hands to David’s waist, teasing the dark hair under his navel with his thumbs, opening his belt, and slipping cool fingers under the waistband to pop the button.

For the second time, David’s knees felt weak. He closed his eyes to try to regain some composure. He felt like he was burning up and shaking with chills at the same time. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t a teenager. But everything about this felt different, new, overwhelming. He’d wanted it so bad for so long, even longer than he’d admitted to himself. He never expected this to happen, certainly not with a man who was as beautiful as Christie, not with a man he loved.

He felt Christie gently unzip and pull down his pants, skimming his artists’ hands over David’s hip bones. Something warm and wet nudged his cock. His eyes flew open to find Christie on his knees. He kissed David’s tip and let it trail wetly along his cheek. Christie looked up at him, his blue eyes lit with a dangerous spark.

“Okay?” Christie asked. He gave the head of David’s cock a little lick.

“Oh dear Lord.” David leaned down, reaching for the nightstand before he fell over. “Yeah. Yes. I—just let me get on the bed.”

He kicked off his shoes and pants in a furious rush and half fell, half sat on the edge of the bed. Because dear Lord, if Christie was going to do
that
.

He leaned back on his hands as Christie shuffled toward him on his knees playfully. His thighs fell open and Christie moved between them, all tight chest and pink glowing skin.

David breathed hard through his nose, grasped the bedspread beneath his fingers. “You don’t have to,” he whispered as Christie steadied the base of his cock, pointing it toward his mouth.

“Oh, there’s
nothing
I want more,” Christie said wickedly. Then he proved that he meant it.

The word “worship”
came to mind, along with “perfect,” and “incredible,” and “oh good heavens.” Christie licked David’s shaft teasingly, then rolled his balls in one hand and sucked them. David had never even dared imagine
that
. It both tickled and caused an electric pulse to run up his cock and tighten it, like a drawstring. Christie ran the tip of his tongue under the head and suckled the tip like a lollipop. All the time he looked like he was savoring a great meal, completely lost in the sensual art of it. He only looked up at David’s eyes now and then, his gaze muted, like he was in another world.

When he took David in to the root and started drawing on him in a rhythm, David couldn’t watch anymore. He flopped onto his back with a loud groan.
Another minute. I’ll let him go on another minute.
He didn’t want to come yet.
Now? Ever?
But it felt so damn good. It was the best thing he’d ever felt in his life, the friction teasing and yet enough to ramp him up fast. Christie’s sucks and pulls drew him tighter and tighter until it felt like he might contract into a blissful nothing. His body reacted like he was twenty, his cock twitching and throbbing. He felt himself release a pulse of precome into Christie’s mouth.

Christie moaned as if he loved the taste. He rubbed the broad flat of his tongue firmly up and down the underside of David’s cock. Its smooth-rough surface took him to the edge of an impending explosion in seconds.

“Stop!” he sat up and pushed Christie back.

Christie looked up at him with a smirk. “Close?”

David nodded. “Not yet. I—c’mere.”

He took Christie’s arms and pulled him up on onto the bed, scooting back himself until Christie was lying fully on top of him. They kissed deeply, and he ran his hands up and down Christie’s body, from his shoulder blades to his thighs and everywhere he could reach. Christie was vocal, soft moans vibrating in his throat. Soon enough David felt compelled to roll them over and get on top. He covered Christie and linked their hands, pulling Christie’s arms over his head.

He paused to look down into Christie’s eyes.

His lover.
He felt too much. His chest was so tight he almost worried he was having a heart attack.

Christie stared up at him and put one calf over the back of David’s leg, raised his hips a little. “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, looking almost shy.

Yes. No.
Lord, David did want to do that. He wanted everything. He nodded, unable to say it out loud.

“Me too. I’ve thought about it. Fantasized. Let me up for just a second.”

David rolled off Christie so he could reach the bedside table. He brought out a bottle of lube and a condom. David swallowed and took the condom, put it on. His hands trembled.

“We need to open me up first. Bet they didn’t show you that in the porn.”

David shook his head. His brain cleared a little with the break in contact even though his erection still throbbed, painfully hard.

Christie opened the cap on the lube. “Give me your hand.”

David held out his palm, and Christie put a dab of lube in it, spread a line up his middle finger. “Start with one. It’s been a while since I bottomed.” He lay down on his back and spread his legs.

The sight of him like that reminded David of the photograph Christie sent him. He had to close his eyes for a moment to control his surge of lust, back it off so he didn’t come before he could even get inside. Breathing out, he opened his eyes and found Christie had pulled back one thigh, revealing a pink furl. David reached out to touch it lightly, allowing the lube to run over it.

Christie hissed in a breath and pulled his leg up higher, tilted his hips. Did that really feel good? It apparently did. As David rubbed there and then slowly pushed inside, Christie’s breath grew ragged and his erection redder. A line of clear fluid eased from the head to pool on his belly. Christie’s eyes were locked on David’s face. He was so open and vulnerable. If he could be that trusting, David could too. He stared back, looking away only long enough to add another finger and watch, with fascination, as Christie’s tight body accepted them, drew him in. He felt the muscles relax as he thrust, able to go a little deeper every time. It was just like Christie said; David was opening him up. Only the opening was happening in David too, in some organ just below his heart, maybe where his daydreams lived.

“Want you now,” Christie said, his voice fierce. He pulled on David’s arm, making him withdraw his fingers.

Hell yes.
He wanted to be inside Christie now, felt like maybe he always had been inside Christie and never understood it. He moved over Christie’s body, his arms holding him up. Christie wrapped his calves around David’s hips, and he moved his hand down to guide David into place. And then David’s instinct took over, and he was pressing in,
breaching
.

It was tight and hot, slick and soft all at the same time. There was friction, resistance, and Christie’s rim squeezed tight at the base of David’s cock. But Christie urged him forward with his heels, and David pushed all the way in until he couldn’t go any farther. He ground in place to make sure, taking in the sensation of Christie’s smooth balls against his pubic bone, and loving it. He had to stop for a moment to keep from ending it too soon. He collapsed onto Christie’s chest, put his face into his neck, and breathed deep, sucked the skin there.