Bad Boyfriend (17 page)

Eli flicked a finger against Quinn’s ear. “Are these on? He offered the blowjob.”

“But not at the house.”

“Get off me, Quinn. I swear you two fucking deserve each other.”

“Wait. I’m trying to follow this.”

It burst out of Eli, no calculation, no aim. He slammed the heels of his hands on Quinn’s shoulders. Breath whooshed out of their chests as Eli twisted and rolled and dumped them onto the floor. He glared down into Quinn’s surprised face. How could anyone be this stupid? Eli hated being right all the time. The hottest sex in the world wasn’t worth dealing with how blind this guy was. And Eli still opened his mouth to explain it to him.

“What can’t you follow? He fucked around on you. He left you. For a woman. He killed your dog. Now he fucks around on his wife and shoves it in your face because the whole damned family’s got you by the balls. And I don’t know why I give a flying fuck, but I can’t watch it anymore. Now get out of my life.” Eli rolled off, panting.

Quinn sat up. “Christ, what an arrogant little shit you are.” He loomed over him, jaw hard, lips thin. “If you weren’t in the middle of a tantrum, maybe you could understand how much crap just came flying at my head.”

“Just now? Quinn, that baby didn’t spring out of thin air. It’s been a year.”

“Shut up for a second. If that’s possible. Maybe what I was trying to follow was how I could have lived with him for ten years and not seen him. Maybe what I was trying to understand was why a guy who claimed to be straight except for me is chasing dick all of a sudden.” Quinn’s hands shot out to capture Eli’s face. His grip was solid, voice a harsh whisper. “But none of that fucking matters because I can’t stop being pissed about you going to Grand Central when I want you for myself.”

Chapter Eleven

“Like as your boyfriend?” Eli tried to swallow his shock, but his throat stuck on the adrenaline-hard slam of his heart. Quinn wasn’t lying, wasn’t trying to charm his way out of the knee Eli had been planning to relocate his sac with. Quinn was by turns adorably vulnerable and a sexy top, but he couldn’t quite pull off charm.

“That’s flattering.” Eli pasted on a smile, then leaned back so that Quinn came with him. “I know I’m awesome in bed, but you met me what? Three days ago?”

“Five. Which is why you should go on a date with me.”

“A date. Like straight people.”

“You’re saying we can’t date because straight people do?”

That wasn’t what he’d meant. Eli wasn’t completely heterophobic, but there were just so many examples of straight assholes to choose from. Like his own egg and sperm donors. His sister. Kellan’s dad. Marcy.

Still, Kellan and Nate did stuff together all the time that wasn’t fucking. And they had that Date Night thing that Eli usually heard as
leave us alone so we can stare into each other’s eyes for a while before we fuck like bunnies.

“So dinner and a movie?” Eli said.

Quinn shook his head. “We can’t talk during a movie.” He ran a finger over Eli’s lips. “And I think watching you eat might get us back to horizontal too soon.”

“I like horizontal.”

“I do too.” Quinn kissed him, long and deep, but it was the stroke of Quinn’s hips that had Eli in a more receptive frame of mind. “But horizontal is not the main point of a date.”

“It can be there at the end though. You’re going to put out, right?”

“Is that a yes?”

When I want you for myself
. Of course the only guy who’d ever asked had to be unavailable. If Eli ever did get a real boyfriend, it might not be a bad idea to have tried out the dating thing, although it seemed stupid. They clicked in bed, what else was there to know? Obviously, it wasn’t going to be some big love thing. Even if Quinn wasn’t hung up on his ex, he’d never looked at Eli the way Kellan and Nate looked at each other. Most of what Eli got from Quinn was a reluctant amusement, like he couldn’t believe he was putting up with Eli’s bullshit, but the sex made up for it. That was the same way Eli felt about Quinn and his family crap, so they were even.

“Depends. What are we going to do?” Eli tried to suggest something now by lifting his legs up around Quinn’s hips.

“Get to know each other.”

“I don’t get why that should matter. Even if we lived together it doesn’t mean we have to like the same stuff on our pizza.”

Quinn was giving him that smile, the it’s-a-good-thing-you’re-so-fuckable look. It should have earned him a nipple pinch, but Eli’s stomach got the same melting warmth it did after a long, sweet come. Being fuckable was something Eli aspired to every second of the day.

“All right,” Eli said. “Where are we going?”

“Can it be a surprise?”

“Like you dragging me to a Catholic church? I need to know what to wear.”

Quinn stared down for a minute, like he was running through a dozen dating scenarios in his mind, trying to fit Eli into one.

“Bowling,” Quinn said at last.

“Bowling? Rented shoes and hanging with old ladies named Verna and Flo? That should take sex out of the equation all right.”

“Is that a yes?” Quinn asked again, this time with the smile he always used with Eli. There was something mischievous about it now. Like he was up to no good and wanted Eli to join him. Maybe there was a place that did naked bowling. Then Eli thought of someone named Verna naked and shuddered.

“Who pays?”

“Me, since I asked.”

Eli slung his arms around Quinn’s neck. The spot where the tie had rubbed Eli’s wrists tingled as he touched Quinn’s skin. “Convince me. Show me how you’ll put out.”

Quinn did.

He put Eli on his side and went into him from behind, short strokes that rubbed in the best possible way. Explosions of hot pleasure inside and the thick shaft delivering all the friction he could take.

It tore away Eli’s breath, but he managed to gasp, “Harder. More.”

Quinn’s hips kept up that stutter while his hands roved over Eli’s body, lips and tongue and teeth on his neck. Eli squirmed when Quinn’s hand evaded the thrust of Eli’s dick toward it. Instead, fingers rolled over and tugged on his balls, nails scraped the inside of his thighs, and then God, the pressure on the skin between. Pressure to make everything draw up tight and sweet as heat gathered in the tip of Eli’s cock and spilled a tingle of warmth over the head.

“Wanna come.” But when Eli reached for his dick, Quinn slapped his hand away.

“And I want you to wait.” Quinn went back to rubbing under Eli’s balls, but then shifted to a grip pulling Eli’s ass open wider, a hard deep thrust forcing release closer even while Quinn kept him from getting there.

“Please.”

Quinn had to know what that extra stretch was doing to him, the aching pleasure of it. Fuck yeah, he knew, because he sent a flicking finger hard against the tight skin between balls and ass, a spike of pain so sweet Eli jumped and reached back to find anything to hold onto, any way to coax Quinn into letting him go.

“Gonna be better if you wait.”

It was so damned good right now, perfect even, and then Quinn eased off and went back to nailing Eli’s gland with a rolling thrust of his hips, a build-build-build of pressure and nowhere for it to go.

When Eli reached for his cock again, Quinn captured his hands more securely than the tie. Soft humid kisses on his neck, under his ear, and Eli was frantic. Too full, too much. He slammed his hips back against Quinn, forcing the friction faster, sharper. Quinn kept Eli’s hands trapped in one of his and slid the free hand around Eli’s thigh to pin him close, slow them down to nothing but that aching, perfect thrust.

Every game Eli had played, tied spread-eagle, a hand or paddle bruising his ass, a flogger stinging into his crack, nothing had ever forced surrender on him like this deep, gentle fuck from Quinn. Eli had thought he liked to give up control, take a break for awhile and let a man push sensation onto his body. This was different.

Terrifying.

Because this was what it was like to really lose control. To let Quinn inside, to let him make Eli feel so much more than the amazing sensations of bodies together.

And inside that surrender was safety. Quinn around him, voice in his ear whispering, “I’ve got you. Let me make you feel good, honey.”

Eli stopped trying to pull their hands down to his dick and wiped the sweat off his face on his shoulder. Quinn didn’t let him go though, but used the hand on Eli’s thigh to guide them. Deep thrusts that made Eli’s belly loose, quick jerks against his gland that made his belly tighten as he tried to hold on to the dizzying pleasure.

His body was under Quinn’s control but his mind spit out one last try. “Please let me come.” The release was there, full and hot, flooding his balls, his ass. Still nowhere to go.

Quinn’s only answer was a soft kiss under his ear that became a sharp, shivering bite.

Eli gave in.

Let Quinn move his body, move through him and in him, like water rushing, wearing down every barrier, washing it all away. Eli couldn’t tell where one wave ended and another one started as heat rolled up his cock, but when Quinn finally wrapped a hand around Eli’s shaft, hard desperate friction, those little waves of pleasure turned into a waterfall, throwing him over and slamming him under.

Somehow his hands got free, and he clutched on to any part of Quinn his searching fingers could find. Hair, skin, muscle, bone. Because the come bursting out of his balls was going to wash him away if he didn’t hang on. Quinn was right there with him, whispering hoarse
yeah,
fuck yeah, honey
’s in Eli’s ear.

Eli’s heart kept on pounding. Eli had had sex before. Lots of sex. Kinky sex. That hadn’t just been sex. If he were in someone else’s bed, he’d sneak off to try to figure out if that made him happy or scared to death. But that escape wasn’t possible.

Quinn made a snorting gasp and collapsed against his back. Eli had never been more appreciative of whatever chemical it was in a guy’s brain that made him want to flop over and sleep after coming. Right now, the beauty of a Y chromosome saved him from having to look at Quinn, or talk to Quinn. And, as Eli’s eyelids got too heavy to lift, those chemicals kept him from lying here having to think about what had just happened.

Quinn had never been on a date in his life. In the Navy, trying to date would have been asking to get tossed out. He’d fucked guys, but that was as far as it went. Then he’d been with Peter. After that, he’d done a repeat, fucking, not dating.

It didn’t have to be complicated. He’d pick Eli up, they’d go do something, talk and see if they liked each other out of bed—and out of range of the family—and hopefully make plans for date number two.

The hopefully part was what kept Quinn squeezing the steering wheel as he obediently waited outside Eli’s apartment. There had to be another date. Because Quinn couldn’t picture going back to his life before Eli had exploded into it. Couldn’t go back to everything so peaceful and flat and boring. So this would work. Quinn would make it work.

Even now he’d listened to Eli’s insistence that Quinn not come up to the apartment, though he’d been hungry to see him for the first time in over a week.

Eli slammed the door as he came out, then tugged down his black leather motorcycle jacket. A bright flash of magenta showed underneath and his usual tight black jeans finished off the outfit. Quinn found himself smiling as Eli threw himself into the car in some kind of snit.

“What made me think it would be easier to have girls for roommates?”

“Are they still pissed about last week?” When Quinn had called to set up a time and day, Eli had complained about sitting through a house meeting where they discussed an appropriate noise level for overnight guests and that some warning about finding a man in the bathroom at four in the morning would be appreciated. Like knocking wouldn’t have been better. Like they didn’t already live with a man.
It’s like they don’t think I have a dick
, Eli had complained.

“Not they,” Eli countered. “She. Sam was probably listening and jacking off, or jilling off, or whatever it is girls do. But Dana goes along with whatever Marcy says.”

No time like now to start a conversation. “So you don’t bring guys home very often?”

“Try never. There’s barely enough space in that room for me.”

“I thought we fit.”

“Because you had your dick up my ass.”

The flood of memories had an instant effect on the fit of Quinn’s jeans. Eli’s dark hair against his skin, the way his eyes looked black and deep, the smell of his body, the sounds in his throat and the feel of him around Quinn’s body. Suddenly, taking Eli back to Quinn’s house in Mount Washington seemed like a better plan. “That was my favorite part of it.”

“So we can skip the rented shoes and Verna and go right to fucking?”

If Quinn played this right, there’d be lots and lots of fucking. He was old enough to wait. “And disappoint her? Date first, dick in ass later.”

“Killjoy.”

Despite the out-of-place Southwestern-style roofing and stucco on Sunset Lanes in Towson, the place was bright and clean and had decent Tex-Mex food—decent enough that people sometimes went there to eat even if they weren’t bowling. Best of all, a gay bowling league met tonight, so Eli might not be able to get in as many complaints about closeted suburbia.