Learning-to-Feel (25 page)

He groaned, and as we started to sway to the music, he ran his hand up my chest. He pulled at my tie, loosened it, allowing my shirt to open, just a bit. I think Kat and Brendan joined us on the dance floor at some point, but I was so lost in my boy, I couldn’t be too certain.

Our hips were locked together, one of my legs was between his, one hand still on his ass and the other under his vest, on the small of his back. His hands were on my waist, my ribs and my back. Our cheeks were pressed together, so when I talked to him, he could hear.

"Trrrrreeeeent," I whispered, and I felt his cheek round off in a smile. "Have I told you how proud I am of you?"

He moaned his yes and nodded a little.

Him displaying his painting of me in the private room was the most amazing declaration. "Have I told you I love you?"

He kissed the spot near my ear and hummed.

"You're so talented," I told him. "With a paint brush, with your hands, with your mouth... "

His head fell back, and I felt his chest vibrate as he groaned.

I licked along his Adam's apple up to his ear. "And what you can do with your cock-"

His hands roughly pulled my face to his, and he kissed me, fucking hard. The rest of my words died in my throat.

He kissed me until I needed air, and then he kissed me some more.

God only knows how many songs we danced and kissed for. Kat and Brendan told us goodnight, and Brendan added, "Get a fucking room. I need to have my retina's bleached with the shit I’ve seen you two do tonight."

Trent smiled against my lips. I mumbled, "Fuck off, Brendan."

Trent continued to kiss me as our hips pressed against each other, we swayed, grinding, dry humping, and it was getting pretty fucking serious on the dance floor. We were dancing ourselves sober...

Until his lips stilled against mine and my eyes opened and found him looking at me. It was a different look in his eyes.

"Trent? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer me for a moment. He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Nathan, I want to go home."

It was a little odd, but I nodded. "Sure. Are you okay?"

His hands encased my face, and he stared into my eyes. "Nathan, I have a surprise for you," he said. His lips brushed against mine as he spoke. The tone of his voice, the secrecy... made me shiver.

Oh.

Fuck.

I didn’t like surprises. Really, I didn’t. Even though I had a feeling this one was different.

Even in the cab ride home, as much as I begged him, he wouldn't tell me. Not even a clue.

So then I tried pouting.

And even some sulking. He was so fucking stubborn.

Unlocking the door to my Boston apartment, Bentley greeted us at the door. I grumbled to Trent, "I fucking hate surprises. You know that."

"Believe me, baby, you're gonna love this one," he said with a chuckle, his eyes were bright and dancing. "I’ve had it for a little while, but wanted to surprise you with it tonight, after the Exhibition."

"Why couldn't you have given it to me when you first got it, in Belfast?" I was still grumbling, as he pulled me up the stairs and into our room.

"Because it'll be better to use with this headboard," he said, his eyes flickered to the solid wooden headboard.

"What? The headboard?"

Grinning, he pulled a brown paper wrapped rectangular box out of the dresser drawer and handed it to me. "Open."

I was curious, and a little bit scared, but I did as I was told. "A flashlight?"

"Not quite," he chuckled as he started undoing his shirt. "I’ve fantasized about this, Nathan."

I looked again at the box in my hand. It wasn’t a flash light. It was a fleshjack.

Fuck.

Literally.

I swallowed thickly and looked up at Trent. He was unbuttoning his suit pants now, grinning like the devil.

"I ordered it online," he explained, letting his pants fall to the floor. "I picked it up a couple of days ago, but thought it could wait until after the exhibition opening." He took it from me then took it out of the box. "Plus, this bed has a headboard."

I was out of my clothes before he could blink.

Trent stood before me, naked and hard, smirking. "I can’t wait to show you this. I’ve been dreaming of what this will be like."

I’d seen fleshjacks used in porn. This one was the ass model, the hole a cock slides into was shaped like a perfect ass. I throbbed at the mere thought of what he’d been fantasizing about. He must have read my face, because he stepped right up to me and his voice was husky, pure sex. "I’m going to fuck you, while you fuck this."

My entire body reacted, I shivered and convulsed, my cock twitched and my nipples hardened. Fuck. My boy knew what to say, what to do, how to make me putty in his hands.

Trent and I had done a lot of things over the last twelve months. A
lot
of things, countless different positions, a few sex toys, porn, you name it. We'd both learned things I never dreamed possible.

I'd even topped him a few times. It was unbelievable, the sensation of being inside him. And I did look forward to whenever we did it, but it wasn't what I craved.

Trent had always understood my need to bottom. Hell, he was the one who explained it to me. I'd told him I didn't know why, but it just seemed more natural to me. He said he wasn't surprised. "You look after people every day," he'd said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're always the caregiver, always making decisions that affect the lives of people. I’m not surprised you want someone else to do that for you."

And it made perfect sense.

He took the fleshjack from me, jolting my mind back to the present and threw it on the pillows.

"Kneel on the bed," he instructed. "Hold onto the headboard."

I did as instructed. My body wouldn't allow me not to. I was leaking from the slit and aching as he started to rub me down, slicking his fingers and exploring, probing, right where I wanted him to.

By the time he entered me, I was quivering in sensation, anticipation. He gripped my hips and pushed himself inside me. He groaned, low in his throat. "Fuuuuuuuuuck."

I had both hands on the headboard, my knees spread wide and he eased himself into me. It was the most perfect thing, being filled with Trent. His hands held me, his breath on the back of my neck, his dirty words in my ear and his cock so far inside me.

There was no feeling in the world to equal it.

Until he sat back on his heels, pulling me with him and told me to pick up the fleshjack. I straddled his dick, my thighs on the outside of his and my cock bobbed heavily between my legs. Using my right hand, I pressed the tip of my cock to the waiting hole.

Slowly, so slowly, I slid the fake ass over my throbbing dick. "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck."

Trent held my hips, and kept his cock buried inside me, while my body twitched in the dual sensation of fucking, while being fucked.

"Oh fuck, Trent," I ground out.

His voice was warmed liqueur. "Feel good, baby?"

"God yes, so good," I gasped, and I started to slide the fleshjack up and down, fucking it, while Trent held me still.

My hips started to buck. I couldn’t control it. My body moved without my permission, but I needed to fuck. My hips rose slightly, and Trent grunted every time his cock slid in and out of my ass.

But it wasn’t enough. I needed to fuck.

Leaning up on my knees, Trent moved with me, still buried in my ass. And then he moved. His hands held my hips, and he started to slam into me. I gripped onto the headboard with my left hand, my right hand kept me deep within the sex toy. My head fell back, and my hips fell forward, taking the pounding Trent gave me.

The base of the fleshjack was on the bed, and with every thrust of Trent's cock, I fucked it.

Trent's voice was so loud and coarse. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he grunted with each thrust of his hips. He was so far inside me, grunting and moaning. Every time he plowed into me, his hips pushed mine, thrusting my cock into the sex toy.

His knees spread mine farther apart, and the angle of his dick changed. "Oh, fuck!" I yelled. My body flexed, white heat ripped through me and my cock erupted into the fake ass. I bucked and bucked as I poured come into the fleshjack, and Trent slammed into me one final time, before he stilled over me and inside me.

I felt his heavy cock lurching, emptying into the condom. He growled and groaned, his forehead pressed into the back of my neck and his entire body was wracked with rolling waves of pleasure.

"Oh my fucking God," was all I managed to say.

Trent chuckled, and he breathed hard. We collapsed on our sides, and he pulled out of me, convulsing as he did so. We laid like that, unable to move or speak.

When Trent did finally move, he kissed my neck and told me he'd run a bath. I heard the water turn on. And a few moments later, he came back into the room, crawled up over my naked body, kissing as he went.

"Are you sore?" he asked quietly. "I was pretty rough."

"I have no feeling in my body but bliss right now," I mumbled, which made him chuckle.

He pulled me into the bathroom and into the hot bath. He slid in behind me, holding me, kissing my neck and shoulder. My head fell back onto his shoulder, and when he whispered into the side of my head that he loved me, my eyes closed and I smiled.

We stayed like that, with his arms around me, and I think I dozed off. "Hey babe, the water's getting cold."

I opened my eyes lazily, and he was grinning at me. We got out, dried off and climbed into bed naked
. He
wrapped his arms around me. "Do you feel okay?" he asked me again.

"I feel very fucking great right now," I mumbled sleepily, and I remembered the present he bought me. "I like your kind of surprises."

The last thing I remembered was the sound of his warm laughter, his arms pulling me tight and his nose in my hair.

* * * *

I closed my phone as Trent came down the stairs. "Mom wants us to call around to her house before we head home."

"Okay," he agreed with an easy shrug. We packed up our belongings and loaded Bentley into the car.

When we got to Mom and Dad's house, Kat and Brendan's car was also there. When we walked inside, my brother was the first to comment. "Nice to see you two aren't still fused together. I had nightmares about that shit."

Kat leaned over and whispered loudly, "I dreamed about it too."

Brendan's jaw dropped open again. Trent burst out laughing, and Brendan threw his soda cap at him.

"Oh boys, I’m glad you're here," Mom called out from the kitchen. "I found this recipe online and thought Bentley might like them." She brought out a plate of bone shaped cookies. "They’re a special oatmeal cookie for dogs, except for conserve glaze, I added that."

I chuckled, Trent sighed beside me and Brendan barked, "Conserve isn't good for dogs."

"I used the diabetic one," Mom defended herself. "I bought it just for him. Nathan told me how he likes the conserve on toast."

Oh, great.

Brendan stared at me. "Nathan!"

"He likes it," I mumbled.

Mom picked up a dog cookie and offered one to Bentley. "See? He loves them."

Brendan snorted. "Next thing you know, she'll be knitting him a coat and matching hat."

Mom's eyes lit up, but Trent quickly replied. "No, please don’t do that."

So Mom looked at me and asked, "Does he need a new blanket for his bed?"

Oh well, actually... I nodded, yes.

Brendan stood between us with a hand on each of our shoulders. "I’m gonna let you both in on a little secret. He’s. A. Dog."

Mom and I looked at Brendan, horrified, and Dad and Trent laughed.

Ignoring them all, I patted Bentley with both hands. "Don’t you listen to him, Buddy."

When the cookies were re-wrapped, I picked them up and was just about to tell everyone goodbye when Trent interrupted. "Um, just a sec."

I looked at him, unsure of what he was about to say.

"I'd just like to thank you all," he said, quietly. "For going last night, for supporting me. It means so much to me, that you support us," he motioned between himself and me. "For Nathan to have such a supportive family is a blessing. Julia, you especially."

I couldn’t believe he’d just said that. My Trent, who had always struggled to voice his feelings, just said
that
. I felt my smile widening as I looked at him.

Then my Mom pushed me out of the way to hug him. "Oh, my sweet boy, Trent. We're so proud of you. You don’t have to thank us
.
It’s what families do."

She kissed his cheek, and he was thankfully saved by his cell phone buzzing in his pocket.

Pulling out of my mother's hug, he read the Caller ID. "It’s Carmen," he said, and you could have heard a pin drop. He answered the call, "Trent Jamieson." His southern accent made me smile.

"Okay," he said. "Oh. Really? Are you sure?" he asked with a laugh, and we all looked on.

"Mmm," he hummed. "Oh, yes. Hell, yes. You let me know. Okay, thanks again." He disconnected the call and we all watched and waited...

"So, what’s the verdict?" I asked him. "What did Carmen say?"

"Um, there are some very interested people," he told us. "They'll deal with Carmen, but I have the final say."

"About what?" Kat asked.

"About what I sell, what I could commission, what they want me to exhibit next... "

Mom squealed, which made Bentley bark. Dad declared it was cause for celebration, called for more champagne.

"Hell the fuck no," Brendan told him. "Don’t let Nathan drink, or we'll all be in therapy. You have no idea what I witnessed last night."

Dad laughed, and I ignored them both. I couldn’t take my eyes off Trent. This blond haired man with his Southern accent and his sexy fucking dimples. The man who owned my heart, who gave me his, this fucking talented man standing before me, was going places in the art world.

And I knew one thing.

I'd be right there beside him. Or curled up on the couch with our dog, watching him paint.

EPILOGUE – THREE YEARS LATER

"Yes, Mom," I said, rolling my eyes, though the effect was lost through the phone. Jeez, I’d only left her house half an hour ago. "We will," I told her. Again. "We'll be there for lunch. Sure you don’t need us to bring anything?"