Fakers (Licking Thicket 1)

“Mal,” he breathed.

He smelled like fancy cologne and woodsmoke, Fireball shots and clean summer sweat. I wanted to inhale him. I wanted to consume him. I wanted to strip him down and put my hands and mouth over every inch of his naked body.

“Please.” His voice was thready and desperate in a way that went straight to my dick.

I thought about the last time I’d been under high school bleachers. Three big muscular assholes had shoved me down into a puddle of soda and mashed-up hotdogs that had spilled from a nearby trash can. They’d shouted and called me names while beating the shit out of me for daring to believe one of their teammates actually wanted to be with me.

I’d been caught staring at Carson Smith one afternoon while walking home past the practice field. When he’d come up to me the following day to flirt with me, I’d been shocked. As a horny teenager, I’d been completely unable to turn down his quiet offer to meet me under the bleachers after the game for a blow job. His dark creamy skin was going to feel amazing under my fingers, and I’d wondered how his pink tongue would taste against mine.

But when I’d made my way there, he and several of his teammates had started laughing, screaming slurs at me and dragging me under the deep shadows of the bleachers. No permanent damage had been done, thanks to one of their girlfriends shrieking at them to cut it the fuck out, but it had still left me angry and full of bitter memories and resentment. High school had sucked for a gay kid who couldn’t pass for straight even if he had overalls and a John Deere ball cap on.

After that, I’d pretty much given up on fully trusting people who offered me anything I truly wanted.

But here, now? Jesus. It was like finally being able to exorcise those demons by sucking face with the motherfucking captain of the football team and watching him lose control. My hands shook with a combination of need and nerves. There was always a voice in the back of my head wondering if this would be another moment where I’d discover I’d been duped.

So maybe I was being stupidly immature, but I reveled in the fantasy as he stood there panting and begging for me. My dick was so hard it almost hurt, and I pressed it against his hip as I stood up on my toes to tease him.

“I’m going to go down on my knees for you,” I said in a low voice right into his ear. “Going to suck your dick right here where anyone could catch us. Anyone at all could walk up and discover Mr. Perfect under the bleachers fucking another man’s face.”

Brooks’s entire body shuddered, and his hands came down on my hips, pulling us tighter together. I felt the long, hard ridge of his erection against me, and I reached down to press the heel of my hand down the hard length. The groan that came out of him spurred me to shift until our cocks were grinding against each other.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Brooks said before squeezing his eyes closed and leaning his head back. His hands shook as he moved them up to my shoulders. I leaned in and kissed his neck, inhaling the summer scent of him and noticing the faint scritch of his beard on my skin.

I fumbled for the button of his fly before ripping his shorts open and reaching inside. Suddenly, Brooks’s brain kicked into gear and he reached for my jeans, shoving at them wildly until they were halfway down my thighs, taking my briefs down with them.

He grumbled something at me before reaching up to grip my jaw in one hand so he could look me in the eye. “Can’t fucking stand not kissing your mouth.” And then he was.

Our mouths fused together in a hot, wet kiss as his hands moved down to pull our cocks together and stroke. All I could do was grab onto the front of his shirt and try not to fall down. His hands felt strong and sure. His tongue tasted cinnamony and sweet. The slide of our hot cocks together took my breath away until I was humping into his hand frantically.

“So good,” he murmured against my lips. “So fucking good. Just let me…” He kissed me again and squeezed us together tighter until I was arching up into him in desperate hopes of coming. So much for my plan to suck him off—I couldn’t even pull away from him enough to kneel down.

I needed him now. I needed to feel him come with me. I wanted him to have the best damned orgasm he’d ever felt so that he remembered this incredible moment here with me. It was everything I thought I’d always wanted, except it was light-years beyond anything I’d ever imagined because it was with him.