Capítulo 2: Chapter 2
He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to focus on anything but curling red hair and a tight ass, and for all of about one second, it worked. But it made so much more sense just to go with the thoughts and give up trying. Happily defeated, Arik reached for his cock without waiting for his creative mind to stir it into stiffening.
Arik’s mind placed a patch of hair, the same fiery tone, trimmed and defined above a rock hard, agitated dick that wept in anticipatory delight. He imagined his mouth on it, his fingers seeking the oddity of velvet softness over steel, his palm against balls tightened and twitching. Vanillin skin, coated in sweat—pink lips parted and pleading. Writhing. Long, slim thighs trembling in need and fingers burying in his hair.
Movement increased, and the rhythmic sound of sheets being brushed by arm and elbow harmonized with breath being forced rushed and jagged from Arik’s throat, until sensation seized his belly and every muscle in his body tensed. He felt the heated splashes paint his torso, but his mind saw them on chin and lip, and mesmerized him with images of salacious drips falling from the tips of red curls.
The orgasm should have made Arik sleep. It usually worked. Yet demonic litanies kept encouraging him to rise, to seek out the four digits on the tastefully decorated doorways until he could claim the man he’d never met but, somehow, could not get out of his head.
However, for all the pondering Arik was doing over Blaze’s words, he could not see the justification in believing there was any reality to them. After all, Blaze had to have been teasing. Hot men did not just approach Arik for sex. It wasn’t that he was unattractive because even Arik knew that wasn’t the case. He worked hard at looking good.
Still…
A hotel elevator wasn’t a bar. Random young men did not just pause, mid-floor, and offer favors to men they didn’t know.
Did they?
With an aggravated sigh, Arik threw off the blankets and rose. He needed a drink. Maybe some scotch, if he could find some ice. After all, if jerking off wasn’t going to put his mind at ease, if meditating and quiet thought refused to help, then fine. He’d drink himself unconscious.
Arik didn’t bother with slippers. He didn’t stop to change out of his Adidas pants. He merely slipped on a zippered hoodie, grabbed the card to his room, and, after a quick poke of head into hallway to ensure the way was clear, he headed down the corridor to find an ice machine.
He almost shrieked when ten seconds later a door to the right opened with a definitive click. A smug smile and hungry eyes met his own deer-in-the-headlights stare. “I almost thought you weren’t going to show,” Blaze said.
* * * *
“Ridiculous,” Arik’s mind kept telling him. Un-fucking-believably ridiculous. And yet…so goddamn interesting it wasn’t even fathomable. Leaning against the wall of a space so similar to his own, his cock as hard as it had been mere hours ago, and attached at the mouth to a man that tasted better than Arik’s imaginings could have ever guessed, the entire event seemed surreal
Blaze felt good. He felt awesome, in fact. The chest and arms that Arik had stalked through clothing looked infinitely better in moonlight. The lips he’d shot his load on in fantasy tasted so superior in reality that Arik was beginning to question his own ability to visualize. It had been too long. Way, way too long since Arik had held another man against him.
Arik squeezed flesh still encased in denim, used that squeeze to drag Blaze closer and let go of a low moan when two hard cocks pressed between two seeking bodies. Hips rolled, Blaze’s or his own, Arik couldn’t even say which, and friction caused sparks to fly through Arik’s blood like knots exploding in a campfire.
“Bed,” Blaze growled. “Now!” And Arik reacted without pause, bending knee, grasping thighs and picked Blaze up from the floor in a swift, easy move. A startled gasp, a misplaced grab on slipping hoodie, and Blaze was deposited gracelessly on the mattress. An arm flew east, a nightstand rocked, a cell phone and clock went spinning like scuttling beetles. A drinking glass tottered, daring to question gravity, before succumbing and shattering on the floor below.
Destruction was lost in the throes of want. Blaze yanked clothing while Arik fumbled to assist. Every new patch of revealed skin taunted, every piece of sloughed clothing chuckled a sigh as it passed through air to find ground, and when Blaze finally lay back, propped on elbows, one knee up and eyes wild with hunger, Arik let his own pants slide to his ankles.
Regalos
-- Regalo
recibido Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder