The Brotherhood 11: Nothing Like Experience Page 5

  Something like excitement mixed with mischief sparkled in those big blues. “Thank you,” Chance whispered before grasping the waistband of Allen’s jockeys and pulling them down. Allen’s traitorous body moved up to give Chance more room to play.

  A glance in the rearview mirror told Allen that Spot was asleep, thank God. He didn’t think he could have handled an audience, even one who’d never be able to go up on a witness stand. “Bad idea,” Allen managed. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop.” Chance was sliding his hand inside, reaching for Allen’s stiff cock.

  “I won’t stop,” Chance said in that sweet, small voice. Allen found the back of Chance’s neck and began pushing the man’s head down toward his lap, which turned out to be where Chance had been going in the first place. Chance gave a little sigh of pleasure as he pulled Allen’s shorts down far enough to let Allen’s erection spring out, thick and red and somehow out of place but at the same time exactly where it needed to be.

  Chance stroked the length with one finger. “So pretty,” he observed in what sounded like awe. “It’s been too long. Months and months and months.”

  Allen offered up a strangled sound.

  Chance laughed lightly. “This’ll feel good.”

  Damn right it will. Get on with the sucking. Allen gave Chance’s head another push, knowing that anything he said out loud would be a mix of babbling and things he’d really regret later.

  Chance breathed over the head of Allen’s cock, the cool air directing itself in a stream up and down Allen’s length. Allen felt his shaft throb, so eager that he was jerking, his prick bobbing up and down. Chance’s mouth descended, ready to take that first taste.

  Allen jerked himself back to reality. “Wait,” he managed over breathing that was suddenly coming in thick and heavy gasps. “Condom.”

  Chance sighed. Easily as if he wasn’t stuck in the front seat of a car, leaning over the gearshift with his weight balanced ever so precariously, he reached into his back pocket. Thanking all the saints and the Holy Mother, Allen relaxed when he saw Chance come out with a foil square. “Hold still,” Chance directed, somehow managing to open the packet one-handed and thumb out the square of latex within.

  Neat trick, Allen thought hazily. Gotta find out how he does-- Fuck! Chance had slipped the condom on Allen’s cock and was sliding it down, the light touch of his fingers nearly driving Allen out of his mind.

  God, he was ready to go off like a teenager. If Chance didn’t quit playing around, this would be over before it started. Allen tried to convey this without words and ended up with an embarrassing little whine.

  Luckily, it got his point across.

  Chance pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Allen’s latex-encased cock. “I can still smell you through this,” he whispered. “You’re wonderful.”

  Allen’s hand tightened on the back of Chance’s neck.

  Slowly, almost seemingly rapturously, Chance lowered his mouth, taking Allen’s cock inside. He couldn’t go too far, but he was able to wrap his hand around the base and squeeze while his lips and tongue worked unbelievable magic. Entering that hot, wet, tight cavern was the closest thing to heaven that Allen expected to experience for another thirty-seven years.

  Allen closed his eyes and leaned his head back but kept his hand where it was, working Chance’s neck as the young man skillfully bobbed up and down. He didn’t know how it was possible to forget how good a blow job could be -- either that, or Chance made everyone who’d come before seem like a complete and total amateur.

  He groaned as Chance worked his way down with tongue and teeth, ever so lightly with the teeth and hard with the tongue. He drew back up, the suction enough to make Allen start praying both that this would go on forever and that the unbearable tightening in his balls would find release.

  Looking down again, Allen could just see Chance’s gaze flicker up at him, so eager to please but so obviously loving this, that with a flip in his stomach and an almost painful spasm in his balls, Allen came, loosing a strangled shout as he jerked out thick shots of semen. He gripped Chance’s head fiercely as his own hips bucked, not giving the young man a chance to let go -- not that Chance seemed eager to draw off in the first place.

  When he’d finished and felt like there wasn’t a single bone left in his body, Allen somehow managed to pry his hand free of Chance’s neck. His fingers felt rusty and squeaky, like they’d locked into place and didn’t want to let go. He stared at the top of Chance’s head, completely lost as to what to say. From the wet spot on Chance’s jeans, he’d enjoyed this, too. Had he been humping and grinding? Allen couldn’t remember, but he suspected that Chance had.

  Chance drew off the condom and tied a knot in the end. He glanced around and found a small trash bag on the passenger side floor, slipping his burden inside. Then he looked up at Allen’s face, his eyes wide and shiny, his mouth stretched wide in an almost-innocent smile.

  Allen gazed back at Chance, and knew for sure, as if he hadn’t already come to this conclusion, he was in deep, deep trouble.

  Chapter Four

  Moving fluidly from one position to the next, Chance raised up and pressed his lips to Allen’s, drawing in Allen’s ragged breaths as if they were the stuff of life. His warm, rough hand wriggled underneath Allen’s shirt and slipped up onto Allen’s stomach, pushing ever so slightly. Allen couldn’t help moving into the touch or kissing back, tangling his fingers in that wonderful hair and holding Chance steady against him.

  Chance was the kind of man you could kiss all night long; sweet rosebud lips were so soft beneath Allen’s, opening up at the slightest pressure from Allen’s tongue. He let himself be taken over without a hint of a fight, even moaning and wiggling eagerly when Allen began to move inside his mouth, twining their tongues together. The younger man tasted of mint, probably peppermint. The last young guy Allen had seen -- that dad-blasted Joey -- had been a smoker. Allen appreciated the contrast.

  Hell, he appreciated Chance. What he’d like to do with that nubile, willing body--

  Put on the brakes again, he thought with a jerk. This is all going way too fast.

  Allen pulled away and leaned back, releasing Chance’s head. “My God,” he managed, his breathing still a little rough. “What was that all about?”

  Chance smiled coyly and snuggled down just as if they were in bed together. His fingers drifted over Allen’s stomach in butterfly teases before he drew it back to rest on Allen’s thigh again. “I told you,” he said. “I like you, Dr. Michaels.”

  “Whew.” Allen jiggled his leg a little to see if Chance would move that hand. Nope; it stayed put. “Okay, after what we just did, I think you can call me Allen.”

  “Allen,” Chance echoed, licking his slightly swollen lips. “You’re amazing... Allen.” The way he said the name made it into an aural caress. Allen gazed at the young god, amazed by the situation he found himself in. Chance was a guy you could get way too fond of. Take advantage of. Allen didn’t want to be that kind of guy.

  “Chance, slow down, okay?” He cleared his throat and forced himself to say as kindly as he could, “I think you’re making a mistake.” Even in the gathering dusk and fog, Allen could see those incredible eyes widen. One finger came up to twine in that hair. Allen found himself missing the hand on his leg and mentally kicked himself for being an idiot several times over.

  “You’re not upset, are you? I came on too strong, didn’t I? It was bad, wasn’t it?” Chance made a self-recriminating face.

  “Are you kidding?” Allen couldn’t stop himself from a surprised laugh. “In case you couldn’t tell, the yelling and screaming, not to mention coming -- all of those were clues that I enjoyed myself.” He wanted to reach over and touch the sticky spot on Chance’s jeans, but aborted the movement before it started.

  Chance frowned slowly. “Then what’s wrong?”

  Ah, God, Chance came across as so naive; he shouted pure and inexperienced with every breath he took. Except when he was sucking cock. Then you c
ould fit him with the devil’s horns and hand him a pitchfork.

  Allen sighed. When I get into hot water, I don’t just dip one toe in, do I? Hell, no, I go all the way into the deep end with a cannonball splash.

  “Chance... nothing’s wrong. Well, actually--” Time for the ugly truth. “I’m too old for you, and you’re too young for me. I’m not a kid, Chance, and I’ve kind of made it a policy not to date younger men.”

  “But you do like men.” Chance perked up.

  “Let’s go back to my earlier comment with regard to having a good time.”

  Chance chuckled, almost a giggle. “I’m not that young; I’m legal, don’t worry. And I’ll be twenty-three soon, in case you’re curious.”

  “I’m thirty-seven.” Allen let out a long breath. “That’s fifteen years between us, Chance, pretty much what I’d figured when I first saw you. I may be kind of a goofball and not act my years, but there’s too much of an age difference here. It’s not right.”

  That earned him a frown. “Why not? We both enjoyed ourselves. And you’re a great guy.”

  Allen resisted the urge to bang his head against the steering wheel. Give up, a resigned piece of his mind told him. You’re not winning this argument. You might as well sign an oath in blood. Chance already has you wound around his finger, just like that hair.

  Cock-whipped, another part of his head jeered.

  Thanks for your support, Allen fired back. Then he wondered, briefly, if arguing with oneself could be considered schizophrenic. But with Chance looking at him, silently pleading for either absolution or approval -- possibly both -- Allen got back on track pretty fast and chose his words with care.

  “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you. I’m sure you’re all grown up, Chance -- hell, are you ever grown up -- but there are things you might not understand yet.”

  “Oh, I know what you’re talking about.” Chance undulated in his seat again. This time, Allen could see a teasing smile start on those far-too-kissable lips. “I know just about everything you can do in bed.” The smile was definite now. “And out of bed, too.”

  “You know, you really have to stop doing that.”

  Frown. “Doing what?”

  “Turning me on. It’s not working in my favor.”

  Deeper frown. “You don’t like getting excited?”

  Allen lifted his hand and ran it over his face, knocking his glasses slightly askew. He fixed them and went on. “Believe me when I tell you that I enjoy it just as much as the next guy. But, again, we face a problem here. If I was maybe fifteen years younger, I’d be able to get it right back up and you’d get what you wanted. But it just doesn’t work that way with me anymore.” He tried to be gentle. “This was fun, Chance, but you need someone your own age. And I need--” He swallowed. “I need to be with a person who understands what it’s like to be almost forty years old. Can you accept that?”

  Chance shook his head, firm and decisive. “Nope.”

  Well, isn’t this just ducky. Allen tugged at his tie, stalling. He glanced around them, taking in the details of the gravel road surrounded by the slightly rising hills. Amazing that no one else had come along while they were, er, occupied, or even afterward. A brief shiver ran down his spine. Awfully isolated, this road.

  He entertained the brief thought of Chance being a psycho killer but abandoned that. Spot wouldn’t be such a sweetheart if his owner didn’t treat him kindly, if he wasn’t a good man. And Silence of the Lambs aside, Allen had a pretty good idea about how pets and owners reflected one another.

  Allen chuckled at the idea of Chance lowering lotion in a basket. The things he thought about...

  Chance giggled again, the sound sweet and musical. “So you agree.”

  Uh-oh. Allen had a sneaking suspicion he’d missed out on something important and freeze-framed the moment. Had Chance been talking while he was lost in thought? “Agree to what?” he asked carefully.

  “That you’ll come home with me.” The younger man slid forward gracefully, dodging the gearshift, and kissed Allen lightly on the lips. His tongue flickered along the side of Allen’s mouth, just a taste, then pulled back. “For tonight.”

  “I agreed to this?” Allen blurted. “Chance, didn’t you hear anything I said?”

  “I heard you. I just figured I’d try a little harder to get you to see things my way.” Chance withdrew, but laid his hand on Allen’s thigh again, dancing his fingers up and down. “Oh.” He did up Allen’s zipper, leaving them both blushing and feeling strangely awkward for a moment.

  Then Chance leaned his head against the seat rest and looked at Allen, really looked at him, and suddenly seemed decades older. “I’m not stupid, Allen. I know I’m young, but I’ve seen a lot and done a bunch of things. And I’m not asking for forever. Just tonight.”

  Allen’s traitorous hand covered Chance’s, squeezing just a bit. He watched his fingers move with a sense of resignation and, oddly, elation. “I know men like you, Chance. It’s never ‘just tonight.’ It’ll be ‘tomorrow night’ pretty soon, and the night after that... until, suddenly, I’m in love with a guy who decides he wants someone his own age. This can’t end well.”

  “How do you know for sure?” Chance demanded. “I’m not like the men you’ve met before, Allen. I’m different, special.” He winced a little for an unknown reason, but Allen was too busy trying to keep up to really worry about it just then. “I’m my own man.”

  “You’re just a kid,” Allen said softly, stroking that oddly rough, perfectly shaped hand.

  “I’m not.” Chance tilted his head to a slightly sharper angle. “Someone hurt you before, didn’t they? Someone young like me.”

  “I don’t really think that dragging up the past will--”

  “It matters when it affects what you do with me.” Chance looked offended. “I mean, it’s none of my business, I get that. Honest, I do. But, Allen, I really do like you. A lot. I don’t want whoever did you wrong to get in the way of us.” He turned his hand so that his fingers and Allen’s easily laced together. “I want what’s happening here to be about you and me, not the past. So come stay with me. Maybe just for tonight, maybe for a lot of nights. I don’t know.”

  Allen regarded Chance, taking in the perfect Cupid’s face, the mussed blond waves, and the hard young body beneath. “Are you always this determined to get your own way?”

  “Only when it’s something I really want. And I want you.” The other man seemed so fervent that Allen could hardly stand it. Chance growled a little, sexy as hell and just a tiny bit dangerous -- enough to excite. He shifted his head as if he wanted to tug at his hair. “Please? Just tonight?”

  Allen gave in, gave up, went the whole nine yards, just as he’d more or less known he would when this discussion had started. He literally and metaphorically held up his hands, Chance’s entwined hand going along with his for the ride. “Okay. Okay, you hear? You win. You’re the most delectable man I’ve ever seen, and I know I’d be a moron to turn down your offer. But, yeah, you’re right, someone did hurt me. Hurt me and took away a lot of the things that were dear to me, like trust.” Using caution, he untangled his fingers from Chance’s. “So you’ve got to understand that I have enough baggage for a trip to Italy -- but I am coming. Are we clear?”

  Chance’s eyes seemed to sparkle in the near dark. “As long as you come,” he said, his voice slipping into a slightly husky range. “And you will. Again and again and again.”

  “And we’re back on me being thirty-seven.”

  “It won’t matter.” Chance looked earnest, Allen couldn’t help but compare him to a puppy, tail wagging frantically, desperate to play with the big, older dogs. “It’ll be like you’re my age. Just trust me, okay?”

  “I think you’re getting your hopes built up too high. But fine. Just don’t expect me to be gracious about things when I let you down.”

  Chance shook his head firmly. “You won’t. Swear. Pinky-swear, if you want.”

  “My God,
what are you, two instead of twenty-two?”

  More light laughter. “So that was going too far.” Chance suddenly took on a sly aspect. “But I got you to smile.”

  Allen realized in surprise that he was grinning, broadly enough that his cheeks ached a little. “You’re something else, you know that?”

  “Yep,” Chance agreed, apparently content. “Start the car up again. My place isn’t far now. Just two more lefts and we’re there.”

  Allen had to ask. “You’re sure? One hundred percent certain that you want to be with me?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “Child,” Allen teased. All the same, he moved the car into “drive” and put his hands on the wheel, his foot carefully on the accelerator. “You’re going to have to warn me when the turns are coming. I can’t see a thing in this fog.”

  Chance squeezed Allen’s knee. His hand was so warm. “I promise, but you have to swear that you’ll kiss me as soon as we’re inside.”

  Allen nodded. In for a penny... well, he’d told himself that one before. They’d be doing a lot more than kissing.

  He’d bet his bottom dollar on that.

  * * * * *

  I would have been a very rich man if I’d wagered more, Allen thought as he pulled into the final left, a space that just seemed like more road to him but which Chance swore was his driveway. Damned fog was too thick to see more than five feet in front of a person, much less the house that Chance claimed was there.

  No sooner had he shut the driver’s side door than Chance was smothering him with love like an eager young puppy. Lips, there were lips everywhere, kissing him all over in searing hot brands. Allen tried to keep up, admitting to himself how eager he was for that mouth against his own.

  Chance finally held still long enough for a real good old-fashioned smooch, winding his arms around Allen’s neck. They clung together for long moments and then, with a final flick of his tongue, Chance withdrew. He grabbed Allen’s hand. “Come on,” he said with a happy little laugh. “I want you to see my place.” He whistled for Spot. “Here, boy.”