Learning-to-Feel (11 page)

Trent grabbed the waist of my jeans, popping the button. "Is that so?"

I palmed his cock through his jeans and nodded. He pushed me down on the bed, took my jeans off for me, undressed himself and climbed onto the bed. "I’m drunk," I told him, though I was pretty sure he already knew that. "And I want to taste your come."

"Jesus," he mumbled. "You can’t say things like that to me."

Which of course made me say more things exactly like that. "I want you in my mouth. I need to taste you."

He didn’t need much encouragement. He moved really fast and, I wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next think I knew, his beautiful face was gone and I had his dick in my face. And then I realized my dick was warm and wet
.
He was sucking on me, and I was staring at his very erect and very swollen cock.

I’d never needed to taste something so bad in my life.

So I took him into my mouth, as much as I could, and I hummed my contentment. Trent moaned around my cock, sending shivers through me, and I bucked in response.

Then his cock was no longer in my mouth, and he was gone. "Hey, where'd you go?" I asked, licking my lips, and he chuckled.

Then he was back again
. I
grabbed his hips this time, so he couldn’t escape, and devoured his erection. He groaned outloud, "Oh, fuck," as I worked him over. "I had to get the lube," he told me. Then I heard the lid click on the bottle, and his hands were massaging my balls and the base of my cock while he licked at the head.

His fingers, slick with lube, were massaging everywhere, and when he pressed against my anus, I welcomed it. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was because I’d wanted it, and he wouldn't give it to me…but I moaned in encouragement.

And he did it. Slowly, just a little, he slid his finger in my ass.

I tightened my hold on his hips and took more of his length into my mouth, more than I’d ever taken. I wanted him to know I liked what he was doing, so I sucked him harder. I licked along his shaft, and I tasted him on the back of my tongue.

He pulled his mouth off my cock. "Oh fuck, Nathan! Baby," he cried out, "just like that." And he was fucking me with his finger harder and deeper, as he nuzzled his nose into my pubic bone. "Jesus…" he moaned
.
Knowing I was pleasuring him turned me on, and I worked his cock harder.

"You're gonna make me come," he told me, his voice barely a groan. He was still fingering my ass and pumping my cock with his hand, while his mouth licked and lapped at me. It was sensation overload.

"You want me to come in your mouth?" he grunted, and I groaned and nodded and sucked him harder.

His rock-hard length swelled in my mouth, and his balls tightened in my hand. I wanted him to come. I wanted to taste him, drink him. He thrust once, and his cock lurched as he exploded down my throat.

He roared, and his whole body flexed as his come spurted, hot and thick. And I savored him - he was sweet, salty and musky. His cock was at the back of my throat, I had no choice but to swallow. And I liked it. I lapped at him, sucking him clean, and he growled.

I couldn’t help it, and it was probably not the reaction he was after, but I chuckled.

"Something funny?" his voice croaked.

"I swallowed," I told him proudly.

He barked a short laugh. "You blew my fucking mind."

I realized his finger was gone from my ass, and he shuffled out of my arms, only to push me onto my back and kneel between my legs. He poured more lube on his fingers, and then drizzled it directly onto my shaft.

He wrapped one hand around my dick and massaged my balls with his other. He sucked on the head, licking me, distracting me from the finger pressing into my ass.

My back arched off the bed, and he pressed deeper inside me. He pumped and sucked my cock while he finger fucked my ass.

"You like my finger in your ass?" he asked, and I moaned.

"You're so tight," he told me, and I whimpered.

"I want to be inside your ass when you come," he ground out, and I lost it. My pleasure built in waves, and I imagined it was his cock that was fucking me. I could picture his hips against mine, thrusting into me, his dick pulsing, my ass clenching.

"Fuck me, Trent," I groaned through gritted teeth. "Fuck me."

He pushed in a second finger and sucked my cock so hard, the pleasure consumed me. My orgasm came from the depths of my belly and spilled into his mouth, and he kept fucking my ass with his hand while he sucked me.

When he pulled his fingers out of me, I was completely spent. The room spun as Trent fell against me. He chuckled and hummed against my chest as my arms wrapped around him.

Even as a sated, alcohol-induced sleep claimed me, I knew three things. One, I wanted this moment to last forever. Two, this wasn't just physical for me - I wasn’t sure it ever was.

And three, I was drunk
. And
I was going to be fucking sick tomorrow.

CHAPTER 12

My expectations didn’t disappoint me. My head fucking hurt.

I recalled the nightclub from last night, dancing, running into someone who knew me, and the green drinks Trent gave me. I rolled over to hit him or curse at him, but he wasn’t there.

Throwing my feet over the side of my bed and sitting up seemed like a good idea…until I did it. The room tilted, my head pounded and nausea ran down my spine and twisted my stomach.

Fuck. Who the hell's idea was it to drink?

I never drink.

And being hung over rudely reminded me why.

I stumbled to my dresser and founding some boxer briefs, put them on and went downstairs. Trent's there, being all bright and bubbly with Bentley. I sneered at them both, and Trent chuckled.

I considered sneering again but decided trying not to dry heave in the kitchen sink was a much better idea.

"Jeez, you only had three drinks," Trent said with a laugh.

My stomach rolled at the mention of it. "Don’t talk about it."

"You missed Bentley's breakfast," he teased. "He wasn’t impressed."

"Could I care tomorrow?" I asked and leaned my head down on the kitchen counter.

Trent walked into the kitchen and stood beside me. "You need a greasy burger and a Coke," he told me.

I shook my head and mumbled into the marble countertop, "I need water, vitamin B and electrolytes."

"God, it must suck being a doctor," he griped. "You need a shower, half a pound of saturated fat and sodium, and a hit of caffeine and sugar." I groaned, and he laughed. "Trust me," he adds.

I looked at him, all showered and dressed and sunshine.

"Go!" he ordered. "Upstairs. Shower."

I pouted like a petulant child, but did what I was told. The shower was a reprieve, and I felt better after brushing my teeth. I didn’t bother shaving. I just got dressed and went back downstairs. Trent and Bentley were waiting, and we headed straight outside.

The sun was half obscured by clouds but was still fucking offensive. Trent dragged me past Mrs. Lin's, and he walked into a diner. I sat in the park with Bentley and cursed at the sun while Trent ordered our breakfast.

A double bacon burger and a Coke. Ugh. He swore it would fix me, and so I humored him by eating it.

It was disgusting and really, really good.

I ate about half and fed the rest to a grateful Bentley. Trent shook his head at me. I opened the soda and took a mouthful and pretended to offer the can to the dog. Trent pushed my shoulder, "I draw the line at giving him Coca-Cola."

I laughed and leaned my head back and closed my eyes to the sunshine.

"Feel better?" Trent asked.

"I can feel my arteries hardening," I told him. "And I’m pretty sure after that drink I’m now pre-diabetic."

"Gee, over react much?" he asked with a laugh. "But you do feel better, I can tell," he said with a smug smile.

I told him to shut up, and he smiled. We sat and watched Bentley roam around the small park, sniffing and exploring. Trent and I didn’t talk, but every so often, I'd steal a glance in his direction. He'd be looking at me, and he'd smile.

We'd been back at my apartment for about twenty minutes when my urge to kiss him got the better of me. We were in the living room, Bentley was napping on the floor, and I just decided to do it. Trent was on the sofa and had asked me what was on the agenda this afternoon. I walked over and straddled him, and his eyes widened as he looked up to me.

"You, are on my agenda this afternoon," I told him before I kissed him.

He chuckled, then sighed into my kiss and his hands rested on my hips. It was an unusual position for me to be in, for a guy to be in, being the one who straddles, but before I could think too much more of it, there was a knock at my door.

"If we ignore them, they might go away," I mumbled against his lips, and he smiled.

But then there was a jangle of keys, and I heard a familiar, "Nathan?"

"It’s my mom," I said, climbing off him. I started toward the front door as my mother let herself in, just as Bentley decided to greet our visitor.

I grabbed his collar just as my mom walked down the hall. She stopped when she saw me, not expecting to find me wrestling with a dog. "Hi, Mom," I said. "Just give me a sec."

Trent quickly grabbed Bentley, and I laughed as my mom watched on bemused. Though she seemed oblivious to Trent, she was watching me.

I was smiling back at her, and she put the bags in her hands down on the kitchen bench so she could hug me.

It was then I noticed Trent. He was holding onto his dog, but he looked a little uncomfortable, or even nervous.

"I called out…" Mom said as an explanation for letting herself in.

"I was upstairs," I lied, and it was then that she looked to Trent.

I quickly made introductions, sparing the specifics. "Mom, this is Trent. Trent this is my mom, Julia, and this is Bentley."

"Nice to meet you," he said. "Sorry 'bout my dog. He gets a little excited."

"That’s perfectly fine, Dear," she told him, giving him the standard- issue Julia Tierney motherly smile. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by and see if you wanted to join me for lunch?"

"We already ate," I told her.

"Oh," she said, still looking at me weirdly. "But you're still coming for dinner?"

"Yes," I reassured her. "That’s the plan."

"And you, Trent?" she asked him, "You're coming, too?"

"Um," he said hesitantly, and he looked a little lost, not sure what to say.

"Don’t be silly," Mom said quickly. "You're more than welcome." She then turned her attention to Bentley, "Brendan would love to meet you," she said as she petted his head.

"Mom…" I said, trying to downplay her insistence that Trent joins us.

When she looked at me curiously, I knew she was about to say something embarrassing. "You look good, Nathan."

I rolled my eyes.

"You do!" she exclaimed. "You look like you've actually slept. The country life agrees with you, I can tell."

"Thanks Mom, that’s not humiliating at all."

My mother was oblivious to my sarcasm, and Trent chuckled.

"Well, I best get going," mom said. "I'll see
both
you boys at about four." She eyed Trent, daring him to argue, smiled and breezed out as quickly as she’d come.

Trent was still staring at the door, and he blinked. I was quick to apologize. "Excuse my mom, she’s a little…insistent. You don’t have to go…I don’t expect you to want to spend the evening with my family."

"Will she have me court marshaled if I’m not there?" he asked, and I laughed. "And why would Brendan love to meet Bentley?"

"My brother's a vet."

"Huh," he nodded. "A doctor and a vet? What does your sister do?"

"Alana? She’s in design school," I explained. "She’s more like Mom. Brendan and I are like dad. What about your family?"

He was quiet for a moment before he answered. "My parents died in a car accident when I was sixteen."

"Oh, shit," I replied, shocked. "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay, Nathan. It was eleven years ago," he told me. "I lived with my Uncle Peter and Aunt Carolyn until I finished high school. I used my inheritance money to pay for art school and hit the road after graduation." He looked at me and gave me a small smile. "And that is the Trent Jamieson story."

I wanted to ask him personal questions, but I didn’t think that was what someone who's not supposed to care would do. So I didn’t. "And you've been getting inspiration from the American countryside ever since?"

"Inspiration?"

"Yeah, for your paintings," I explained. "Like in Belfast."

He shrugged and nodded, but said, "The art museum last night was so good. You have no idea…"

"I think I do," I told him, and I stood in front of him. "Your face was priceless."

He looked into my eyes, really,
really
looked into my eyes. His voice was quiet, "No one has ever done anything like that for me before."

My hand cupped his jaw. "Well someone should have," I told him, and I kissed his lips sweetly. He looked away, I think I’d made him uncomfortable... and I was reminded that this,
whatever-the-hell-it-is,
was just physical. So taking the seriousness down a notch, I looked at my watch. "Well, we have three hours before my mother has us both court marshaled…and I want a nap."

"A nap?" he laughed. "What are you, three? Or eighty-three?"

"Shut up," I told him, glad that he was now smiling. "Your hangover remedy is starting to wear off, and I’m tired because you made me drink and dance last night."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Me? Well the drinking, yes. But as for the dancing, I seem to recall you managing quite well on your own."

I smiled at him. "Hey, it’s not my fault you're sexy when you dance. You know I wouldn't stand a chance."

He laughed again. "
You
are sexy when you dance. Didn't you see how all those men looked at you? They couldn't take their eyes off you."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "Now I know you're bullshitting. I’m going upstairs to have my
grandpa
nap, if you want to join me…?"