“Wait. We… I need to…” Edison huffed, sounding desperate. Bishop knew the feeling and he didn’t want to wait, he didn’t want to stop. It couldn’t end right now. “I’m gonna…”
“Yes,” Bishop answered, thrusting against the hard cabinet while he pulled Edison’s body flush against him. He flicked his thumb over Edison’s hard nipple and the man almost jumped off the counter.
“Oh! Shoot… Bishop—” Edison released him and slammed his hand down over his dick, covering the wet spot that’d grown since they’d started kissing. Bishop hoped Edison wasn’t embarrassed. They were both leaking like faucets.
Bishop eased his grip. Edison’s eyes were hooded, his bright hazel pupils smokier than usual, reflecting his desire, his yearning to be taken. “You feel so damn good, don’t make me stop right now,” Bishop whispered, rubbing his hand up and down Edison’s arm where he continued to bear down on his dick. “Has it been a while for you too?”
Edison chuckled but there was no humor behind it. He attempted to turn his head but Bishop didn’t let him. He could tell he was nervous by the way his fingers twitched on the back of Bishop’s neck and his eyes began to roam everywhere but directly at him. “Um.”
“Hey,” Bishop said, caressing his cheek. “It’s all good. It’s been a real long time for me.”
“I…” Edison chewed his bottom lip then sighed a long, slow breath. “I probably got you beat in that aspect.”
What? Bishop looked Edison in his eyes when he confessed with complete seriousness, “I never slept with anyone in prison. Never. Not once, not even a blowjob. I was so put off… unattracted to the guys in there that it honestly wasn’t that hard. And, I haven’t been with a man since I came home. So…”
Edison nodded; his gaze still shifty. “That is a long time.”
“Tell me about it.” Bishop smirked.
Edison didn’t smile as he kept up the worried expression. Bishop continued to rub Edison and the way he leaned into the touch told Bishop that the last thing he wanted was for him to stop, but there was still something bothering him. Bishop hoped Edison wasn’t doubting his attraction for him anymore because there was no faking what he was feeling.
“I still may have you beat… by quite a bit,” Edison mumbled.
“That’s okay. It’s not a competition, handsome.” Bishop was already liking that Edison may have been in the same boat that he was. There was nothing wrong with going celibate for a while to get your shit together. If that was the case for Edison, then it was just one more thing for Bishop to admire about him.
“Good. Because I’d lose, big time.” Edison rolled his eyes. The mood was cooling, and Bishop didn’t know what’d just happened or what he’d done to make the man in his arms go from sizzling hot to freezing cold. Perhaps he’d lost his mojo.
“What are you saying? Like ten years?” Bishop frowned, trying to understand. Either way, it didn’t matter. He was good at picking up people’s undertones and the hidden messages behind their mannerisms, but he was one hundred percent confused.
“Ugh… More like twenty-six and half… years,” Edison said as he dropped his other hand to join the one still covering his fading erection. “I was gonna try to wing it, ya know. But… I don’t think I would’ve pulled it off too well.”
Bishop cocked his head to the side as if he couldn’t’ve heard what he thought he’d heard. Or that Edison could be saying what he was saying… He removed his hands from Edison’s waist and took a few steps back, watching him to see if he’d smirk or wink… or something. Because there was no way that Bishop had fucked up this terribly.
“Wow.” Edison huffed and ungracefully climbed off the counter. He turned his back and hurried to straighten his clothes. “I just wanted to be honest with you, like you’ve been with me.”
Bishop’s tongue felt thick in his mouth and his hands itched to touch Edison but he didn’t. He continued to put distance between them while his mind raced. What had he fucking done? Edison was a damn virgin… how had he not known that? Bishop groaned and pressed his fist to his forehead when he thought of the way he’d thrown Edison on his fucking countertop like a filet and started devouring him, all under the premise that he was giving Edison what he wanted. No. Bishop was being impatient and he’d moved too fast. He hadn’t planned on sleeping over or nothing, but he’d wanted to get off, he wouldn’t lie. He’d been rounding second base and was ready to hit third hard just before Edison blared timeout.
“I’m sorry,” Bishop croaked. He sounded as if he smoked cigars. He shook his head, trying to clear the lingering lust that was still making him fight his urges. What Edison had just admitted to him only made him that much sexier, more fascinating and so, so desirable that it made him groan as he turned away to gather his things. His dick was trying to stab through the rough material of his jeans, but he ignored it, this being the ultimate test of his willpower.