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Burn Rubber
Chapter 4 of "Where There's Heat"
Brian and Justin's POV
R/NC 17
Justin
Not to brag, but I give excellent head. I’ve been told just that by every guy
I’ve ever gone down on. It’s also one of those things you just know. Guys can’t
fake orgasms like chicks – we shoot or we don’t. Brian, wait Mr. Kinney, just
came so hard I thought he was going to pass out. Damn, I’m good.
He tastes amazing. I love going down on a guy and being pleasantly surprised by
the way he smells and tastes. Brian's a perfect example. He's clean and well
groomed but still musky with that sexy man-smell and his come tastes like
heaven – he must eat a diet designed to produce fabulous tasting come. Now that
is dedication.
Straddling this stranger’s lap, both of us in designer suits, suddenly strikes
me as funny. I pull my mouth away from his and let out a small laugh.
“What?” He asks, lips finding the soft skin behind my ear.
“I just find it amusing that two grown men just managed to turn a job interview
into a porn movie.”
He pulls his head back and meets my gaze. Amusement dances in both of our eyes.
I don’t know what it is about this man, but I’m intrigued. I don’t want to be,
but I really, really am.
“You forgot ‘gay’ – two grown gay men turned this into a porn movie. Which
shouldn't surprise anyone.”
“Why’s that?”
“We think about sex, what – every 9 seconds?”
“Mmm,” I start to moan as his teeth mark my neck but stop myself when I
remember where I am, “I’d say at least every 6.”
He starts grinding our crotches together and have to I bite my lip to stop a
cry from escaping. Goddamn, he’s hot.
Lightly, he runs his teeth over my Adam’s apple then trails his tongue back
over the same skin. I move my hips in tandem with his, creating a mind-numbing
friction.
“Sure you don’t want the job?” He huffs into my ear.
“Oh I want it, but we’re gonna fuck first.” His eyes meet mine, wild with want
and disbelief. I don't think this cocky businessman expected to meet his match
when he woke up this morning, but I’m willing to bet I can get him to fuck me
and hire me before the week is out.
Brian
Christ this kid is cocky. I’d fucking kick him out of my office if he wasn’t
giving me a lap dance. His little attitude is pretty sexy, actually. Reminds me
of another asshole I know.
“The job or the fuck – I told you, it’s one or the other.” I challenge him with
a stern ultimatum and stop my hands from roaming and my hips from pumping to
punctuate the point.
“Both,” he demands in a sex-laden tone before slipping his tongue into my mouth
again. Christ, if he weren’t such a good kisser I could have a better argument
with him.
His perfect, plush lips feel soft and wet against mine. His tongue slides in
and surveys the dark corners of my mouth, flittering over my teeth and along my
gums. His hands grip my hair and clutch my waist.
I hear the familiar slide of a zipper and then he takes my hand and maneuvers
it between us. In an instant, I have his slick, thick cock in the palm of my
hand.
“Jerk me off,” he whispers, crushing his mouth into mine again.
I slowly start to trail my fingers over the taut skin. Exploring every inch of
a new dick is one of the best feelings I know. No two are alike and each is
gorgeous in its own way. He's surprisingly well endowed for his height and
small stature, but more importantly, he’s got an incredibly thick dick. I love
a thick cock, the way it feels heavy in your hand, in your mouth, in your…
He struggles to suppress a deep moan; I press my lips closer to capture it. I
start to stroke him in earnest, setting a rhythm that has him writhing in
minutes. He tears his mouth away and sucks in deep gulps of air. “Fuck,” he
huffs, his breath moist against my cheek.
His hips start to move, quickening the pace of my handiwork. I use my free hand
to still his hips (mostly to keep him from falling off my lap). I smooth his
precum over the slit and down the shaft, stopping for a moment to weigh his
balls; heavy in my hand, they start to rise as his body stiffens. His eyes meet
mine. We stare until I look away from his trusting gaze. What is it about those
eyes? What is it about him that makes me…uneasy?
Just
as quickly as I was making plans to invite the kid back to my place, I’ve
decided he needs to leave. Now. I bite his neck and pump his cock until he’s
coming probably harder than he ever has. I block his slit and catch the waves
of pearly white come in my open palm. I watch his face go slack and his stomach
tighten as his hips thrust and his mouth falls open so the silent moans can
escape.
When he’s done I move to stand, but he stops us for a long moment with another
piercing gaze. Then he lifts my hand just before I clean it with tissue from my
desk drawer and licks his own come from each of my fingers. It makes my whole
body shiver.
He has to go. Now.
Justin
I lick my own come off his beautiful hand. Long fingers, tanned soft skin and
perfectly manicured nails. Bet those fingers would feel fabulous working over
other parts of my body.
I watch him intently as I clean his hand, working my tongue slowly over each
digit and making a visually appealing display of the whole thing. His eyes
darken and I can tell he’s already hard again. I’m still not sure about his
age, but at least I know he has the stamina to keep up with me.
When I finally release his hand, he pushes me away and immediately starts to
stand. As I watch, his eyes and demeanor change. I’ve seen this routine before.
We both got our rocks off now on you go. Fuck that. We’re going to fuck and
he’s going to hire me. I set a goal and I’m going to achieve it, whether Mr.
Kinney likes it or not. I’m fairly sure he will.
I watch him straighten his tie, tuck his shirt back in, zip up his pants and
ruffle his perfectly mussed hair. He’s sure he’s an original – how pathetic.
Overly confident, dead sexy, ridiculously horny and emotionally unavailable –
just like a million other men in this world. He’s into fucking and not into
boyfriends. Little does he know, that’s fine by me. I’ve done the boyfriend bit
and it’s good, but right now I’m out to have a little fun, and of course, find
a job. Both of which the man in front of me can offer if he’s willing.
Popping a piece of gum in his mouth, he turns towards me. “Mr. Taylor,” he says
as he heads for his office door. I retrieve my portfolio from where I dropped
it on the floor. “It’s been a pleasure.” He gives me a cool smile that suggests
I’m being dismissed. I watch the way he looks through me and not at me. He’s
been practicing this post-sex kiss-off for a long, long time. I am so on to
him.
I put my hand on the doorknob and turn to face him. I think carefully before I
speak, “You said I had to choose the job or the fuck – I did, now you have to
pay up.” He raises his eyebrows at me, challenging me to continue. “A hand job
is NOT a fuck. Pick me up in front of the West End Studios on 101st at 8
o’clock.” Before he can say a word, I’ve got the door open and I’m half way
out. All he gets the chance to do is throw a forced laugh at my back as I walk
across his assistant’s office, noting the look of horror on her face out of the
corner of my eye. Guess she must have heard the commotion – lucky woman.
Brian
Who the fuck does he think he is? Fuck that. 8 o’clock my ass. Does he think
we’re fucking dating now? Am I his goddamned New York City tour guide? Okay,
maybe he really does just want to fuck, but I’ve had him – sort of – and I’m
done. Done.
Three hours later
I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this. No one can ever say that I'm not a fair
man. A deal’s a deal and I’m simply holding up my end of it. We’ll fuck, I’ll
leave, game over. He’s staying at some hotel I’ve never heard of, but a bed’s a
bed and an ass is an ass. We’ll get off and move on.
He probably won’t expect me to come in a car – so few people drive in the city.
Well, millions of people drive in the city, but it seems like only the
disgustingly wealthy have the money to pay for parking spaces. Luckily, I’ve
done well for myself and my treat for my birthday last year was a convertible
‘Vette. It’s a fucking nice ride.
I pull up to the curb and sure enough, there he stands, looking way too hot, in
front of one of the shittiest hotels in the city. Where the fuck did he find
this dump? Mommy and daddy couldn’t afford to put his white-bread ass up at the
Plaza? Interesting…
He walks slowly from where he was standing against the wall to the door of my
car. As I watch his sure strides and the slight sway of his slim hips,
something inside me bends and burns and maybe even breaks.
I suddenly have the urge to lock the doors and pull away, leaving him in my proverbial
dust. If I just put my foot on the gas, burn a little rubber and get the fuck
out of here, I won’t ever have to see him again. No mess. No worries. No
wondering why I fucking feel like this.
No one has to ever know I felt…whatever the fuck it is I’m feeling right now.
Fuck! If only he weren't wearing that tight black tank and those low-slung,
well-cut jeans. Fuck!
My dick twitches, my heart skips and the door opens.
“Mr. Kinney,” he slides in beside me, closing the door behind him.
“Mr. Taylor,” I put the car in drive.
And we’re off…
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