Bad Boyfriend (6 page)

“Come back down here. I’ll get you off.” Quinn’s deep voice rumbled between them.

Eli didn’t have any doubt about that. Quinn knew what Eli liked and wrapped it up with a hot Daddy bow.

It came as a shock to his dick, since Eli’s higher brain could usually be counted on to agree with the one between his legs, but that wasn’t what Eli wanted. Well, it wasn’t only what he wanted. He wanted the whole Quinn package with his active, forceful participation.

After shaking his head, Eli treated Quinn’s finger to a reminder of Eli’s oral skills before letting the finger rest on his lips as he spoke. “I want to wait for you, Daddy.”

Quinn’s eyes darkened, and he cupped Eli’s face.

“Quinn,” Eli corrected himself, remembering what Quinn had said at the end of the last round.

“Are you turning down a blowjob?” Quinn’s smile didn’t seem to be mocking Eli now.

“It’s not that I don’t like them.” His tone held a lot more wounded dignity than he’d intended, and he tried to erase it with a grin.

Of course Eli liked getting his dick sucked. He hadn’t met a guy who didn’t. But he liked the way Quinn had fucked him, hadn’t ever had someone push as hard as that, someone really get what Eli wanted. He doubted there was going to be a sudden shortage of blowjobs in Baltimore. But guys who topped like Quinn? Who made Eli feel safe and scared at the same time? If there were a lot of them hiding in town, Eli hadn’t been able to track any of them down.

“Because I’ve got to tell you, when my dick gets hard, I’m probably going to want to shove it up your ass again.”

Eli’s dick jumped. They both liked that idea a lot. “Okay.”

Quinn ran his hand down Eli’s ass, rubbing the still-burning skin. “Not too sore, boy?”

Eli shook his head. “You don’t have to play that game if you don’t like it.”

“Who said I didn’t like it? Want me to find that rubber?”

“No.” Damn. Maybe Eli could make a midnight run for Viagra. He tried to sneak a look over his shoulder.

“Believe me it’s trying. You are one hot piece of ass to have in my bed.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Eli grinned and stroked his fingers over the tattoos on Quinn’s solid shoulders. A Celtic cross decorated his right, a Celtic triad interlocked with leaping fish his left. “Nice ink there, sailor.”

“Because I was.”

“Oh my God. I fucked a Marine?”

Eli’s ass stung from another hard slap before he got dumped onto the mattress, Quinn holding him down. So maybe Eli’d gotten that wrong. If that’s the way Quinn reacted, Eli would be sure to keep mixing his uniforms up.

“Sailors are in the Navy.” Quinn’s mouth moved close to Eli’s ear. “If you want a Marine, I could probably fix you up.”

Eli thought for a second. “Your redheaded friend?” He wrinkled his nose. “Nah. Ginger and short.”

That earned Eli a solid bark of laughter and a quick kiss. Being right had its advantages too.

“I can’t wait to tell him you said that.”

“So is that what you do? You’re in the Navy?” Eli had never understood why gay people wanted to serve when they still got treated like shit.

“Not anymore. I kept hoping I wouldn’t have to keep lying about my life. I did my five and walked away.” Something behind Quinn’s eyes said it hadn’t been as easy as that.

Walking away before you got kicked out. Now that was something Eli could understand. But fuck if he didn’t wish he’d gone to one of those protests in D.C. last year when Nate had asked him. At least he could have felt he’d stood up for guys like Quinn. “And now?”

“I teach high school.”

“Isn’t that the same don’t-ask-don’t-tell kind of thing there?” The teachers in elementary school had never made Eli feel he was weird for being different. The teachers in high school hadn’t really been dicks, but he’d gotten their message all the same.
Tone it down. Conform. Stop sticking out, and they won’t pick on you as much.

“Not really. I don’t keep it a secret from the rest of the faculty, and who I spend time with is never going to come up in my Global History classes.”

Eli had always been out. He didn’t really know how to make it a question of what he was willing to talk about. People took one look at him and knew he was gay. Not for the first time he thought it was a lot harder to look like Quinn, stupid little ponytail and all.

“What do you do?” Quinn tucked a hand under his head and propped himself on his elbow. “That is when you aren’t making men want to fuck you on the dance floor.”

“I’m a photographer.”

Quinn looked like he didn’t know what to make of that, but Eli didn’t carry proof of his profession in his wallet.

“I’m on staff at the
Charming Rag
.” It wasn’t a total lie.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a local newspaper. It covers bands and clubs.” As much as Eli usually liked to talk—especially about himself—he was wondering when the next round had a chance of starting. Quinn’s focused interest made this feel like a job interview.

“Do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Huh?”

“Tomorrow. Saturday. Are you working or are you free from ten until around one?”

“As a photographer or a date?”

“A date. But that might be stretching it. It’s more like a family thing I have to do. I’d like company. Your company.”

Eli had never considered himself particularly modest, but Quinn asking him out—to a family event—made him feel like he ought to be wearing a lot more than his necklace. Lying on his side, he shifted a leg forward over his junk. “What kind of thing?”

“A baptism.”

Eli had a vision of Quinn standing in a kiddie pool while some guy in satin robes poured water over his head to induct him into some kind of religious cult. “Not yours?”

“No.” Quinn smiled, letting Eli feel in on the joke. “A baby’s.”

Eli arched a brow like he was considering. “What’s in it for me?”

Quinn squeezed Eli’s ass.

“Besides that.”

“What do you want?” Quinn’s eyes were steady on Eli’s face, no teasing now.

Eli had felt naked before, now he felt like he wasn’t even wearing skin. He winked, trying to get things back to the way they’d been. “I think I’ll just have you owe me.”

“I’m good for it.” Quinn’s promise made warmth hit a lot higher up than Eli’s crotch.

“All right then. But I’ll need to stop at my apartment for something to wear.”

“I think you look plenty hot in your fuck-me clothes, but okay.”

Eli put his hand on Quinn’s chest and traced down, finding a silky path that tingled his fingers, urging him lower. Hell yeah, a happy trail. When he closed his hand around Quinn’s dick, he felt the heat and rush of blood. “What were you saying about fucking me?”

Quinn made Eli ride him, and any idea Eli had about being in more control of the fuck disappeared along with Quinn’s dick into Eli’s ass. Strong hands yanked him down to meet every thrust. For the first few minutes, the sting from being stretched again so soon kept Eli from doing anything but letting Quinn fill him with hard slams and soft praise.

“That’s it, honey. Good boy. You’re taking my cock so good.”

Quinn angled Eli’s hips farther back so that the thrusts drove right against his gland, a sharp, bright build of pleasure, and Eli was doing more than taking it. He ground down, worked his ass muscles until Quinn grunted.

“Jesus, you’re a hot fuck.” Quinn held on to Eli’s hips and shifted them, tipping Eli onto his side and kneeling between his legs without missing a stroke.

Eli’s calf pressed into an inked shoulder as Quinn held him open for long, deep rolls of his hips, touching all the places inside Eli that ached for this, to let someone take it, take him.

“Harder.”

“I told you. Daddy’s driving.” Quinn’s lips barely turned up at the corner, the look in his eyes so hard and focused Eli wrenched his gaze away.

Quinn stopped moving. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

Quinn took a slow stroke.

“Fuck me. C’mon.”

“I’ve got you, honey.” Quinn reached for Eli’s cock, fingers gliding slick and sure with lube and sweat and precome.

Eli wanted the Daddy with the hard edges, thick cock and heavy hands that gave him something to work against, a sting and slap to push him over the edge. Didn’t want these perfectly angled strokes to drive him out of his mind, or the big hand that gave his dick the right kind of friction to make his balls draw up tight and good and ready to go. And shit it felt perfect, because as much as he didn’t want it, Quinn was making him take it. Making Eli come sweet and soft and shaking instead of lunging out to grab at the dizzying power before it passed him by.

“That’s it, honey. Come for me. Want to watch you come.”

Quinn forced it into him with his eyes and his touch and his dick until Eli couldn’t take anymore and he was so full sensation tore him apart, flooding his dick and ass with pleasure as it let go, hot and wet. He came forever, and it still wasn’t enough. His eyes stung, and he thought he’d gotten come in them and realized they were tears.

Quinn must not have seen them. “Beautiful. Jesus, Eli. You’re—”

Quinn turned him again, face down, and it should have been better, because this was the way he liked it, a man driving him hard into the mattress. But Quinn scooped him into his arms and held him as he drove home with his last thrusts.

“Fucking gorgeous coming for me. So goddamned sweet.” Quinn’s mouth was sloppy and open on Eli’s neck, breath louder than the words. With a grunt that sounded like Quinn had been punched, Quinn jerked fast and tight against him.

Eli’s heart raced long after Quinn settled them both back onto the bed. It throbbed in his ears and his toes, a hot urgent alarm that only pounded louder as Quinn stroked his back and whispered more praise. Eli called himself crazy and he called himself stupid, told himself to calm the fuck down right now, but nothing could convince his body he hadn’t downed three energy shots and his heart was going to slam right out of his chest.

In the deep exhalations that cooled the skin under the hair stuck to Eli’s neck, he heard the stillness of two in the morning times two orgasms catch up to Quinn.

“Something wrong?” Some force was left in Quinn’s sleepy voice, a solid promise to fix whatever was creating the tension in Eli’s body.

“No.” That was the truth. He’d just had amazing sex—twice—with an apparently nice guy who found his company pleasant enough to drag him along as a buffer against the boredom of some family event, and there was nothing wrong with any of it. “Just wired.”

“Hmm. Wake me up if you jerk off. Want to watch.”

The laugh came out despite Eli’s chest being so full of his stupid racing heart. “I will.”

Chapter Five

Quinn woke to the smell of coffee and an empty bed. He’d felt Eli get up early in the morning but had fallen back asleep before finding out if Eli came back. As fidgety as his guest had been, Quinn wouldn’t be surprised to discover Eli had taken a cab or public transportation back downtown.

But as he hitched up a pair of jeans and followed the coffee smell downstairs to his kitchen, Quinn hoped he was wrong. Not only because he had the baptism to attend, but as good as things had been with Eli last night, Quinn couldn’t shake the sensation of unfinished business.

Eli wasn’t gone. Dressed only in the black overshirt he’d worn last night, he stretched on his toes to search one of Quinn’s cabinets.

The sight sent blood pulsing to his sensitive cock, which tried to reclaim the morning wood he’d fought with as he peed, but Quinn had to curse the fact that he wasn’t twenty anymore, couldn’t simply slide up, bend Eli over the counter and give him the pounding that outfit deserved. The shirt skimmed his hips, and Eli’s pale legs made the splash of red on his ass stand out more. A few darker spots that might have been bruises spotted the crease where ass met thigh. Spots from Quinn’s fingertips.

He should have been ashamed of leaving marks on that fair skin instead of frustrated by his dick’s slow response. But he wasn’t. The sight made him proud, God help him, proud that Eli would be wearing a piece of last night for a few days. Maybe caffeine would help more than just his brain function.

“Thanks for making coffee.” He unhooked his mug from under a cabinet and poured himself a cup.

He’d wondered if Eli had heard him coming and posed like that, hoping Quinn would take advantage of the geography, but when Eli turned around, his face was wary. The eyeliner was gone, and damn if he didn’t look younger. What the hell would Claire say when she saw him?

“What time do you have to be at the thing? The baptism?”

“You live downtown?”

Eli nodded.

Quinn checked his watch. “We’ve got at least an hour.”

“I was going to make eggs.” Eli gestured at the pan on the stove and the carton on the counter.

“Or you could go back to bed. Seems like you didn’t sleep much.”

Eli’s shoulders were tense under a shrug. “There’ll be lots of time to sleep when I’m—”