Barred Desires (The Deepest Desires 1)

“Luca, did you order the car?”

Branson and I decided to catch an Uber to the airport. It would cost a fortune to park one of our cars there for two weeks.

“Yeah, Dan in a Toyota Prius will be here in a few minutes.”

I’m bringing the rest of my luggage downstairs and see Branson messing around on his phone. I can’t help but stare.

He looks so good.

He always does.

He’s wearing ripped skinny jeans, a white band tee with his leather jacket, and all black Converse. His hair is styled in an effortless way, with curly ringlets sitting in a perfect mess on his head.

Without a care in the world, I walk up to him, kissing him softly. He groans at the contact and wraps his hand around my neck, pulling me flush against him. His tongue seeks entrance that I grant him immediately, and now it’s my turn to groan at the feel of his tongue ring exploring my mouth.

Thankfully, Courtney hasn’t been in contact since the incident yesterday. And both Bran and I have decided to move past it.

We regretfully pull apart when we can hear one of the bedroom doors opening. Normally, we wouldn’t kiss or embrace like this when anyone’s home, but I couldn’t help it.

Weston pops into the living room, smiling widely when he sees us. “You guys heading out?”

“Yeah, our Uber driver should be here any minute. You heading out soon too?” He’s taking the Amtrak to his parents’ house instead of flying.

“Yeah, probably in like thirty minutes. Cash is driving me to the train station.”

“Right on, let’s meet up over break while we’re there,” Branson suggests.

“Ah, our ride is here, Bran. See ya later, Weston. We really should meet up over break.”

“Alright, guys. Have a safe flight!”

* * *

The next fewhours pass quickly. The airport is busier than normal, but that’s expected, with it being so close to Christmas. We’re boarding the plane now, and Dad got us first-class seats, which is funny to me because it’s only an hour-long flight. We would have done perfectly fine in coach.

Branson gets the window seat, and me, the aisle. Taking my AirPods out, I hand him one, putting the other in my ear. My playlist starts on shuffle as we’re taking off. We both zone out, listening to the songs that play. When Hold You ‘Til We’re Old by Jamie Miller comes on, Branson reaches over and takes my hand in his. My whole arm tingles against his skin, and I have to chew on the inside of my cheek to try not smile like an idiot.

We’ve never held hands, and I like it. We still need to sit down and talk about all of this during our trip. To clarify what we are, what we want. We need to be on the same page, and I’m desperately hoping we are. These feelings are coming fast, whether I like it or not.

I’m the most nervous about our parents. Even though we aren’t blood related, we still grew up together. They may not understand. I try not to get ahead of myself, because he might not even feel the same way. However, with the way his hand is clasped in mine, and with his thumb rubbing gentle circles on me, I can’t help but think that he may share my feelings.

Resting my head on his shoulder for the remainder of the flight, I close my eyes and let myself feel the music. His soft touches on my hand are starting to stir a burning desire low in my belly, along with a tingling throughout my body. How can such a simple, innocent gesture pull such a reaction from me? I’m like a pubescent boy around him.

Thankfully, the plane lands and we’re able to get off before the row next to us can catch my raging boner. Getting off the plane does nothing to calm my blood, though; it feels like a live wire is running through my veins.

Seeing a private family bathroom, I pull on his arm, redirecting us in there. Shutting and locking the door, I fist his shirt and slam his lips to mine. My tongue spears his mouth, and I moan shamelessly at the contact. He faintly tastes like the Coke we drank on the plane, and his fresh, manly scent invades my nostrils.

I break our kiss, running my hands down his chest and dropping to my knees, then begin to work his belt open. I have never felt this raw, animalistic need to consume someone like I do with him.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?”

“You. Need you now.”

“My mom’s probably waiting for us,” he teases, biting his lip. From the bulge in his pants and the way he already has his hands fisted in my hair, I can tell he wants this as much as I do.

That knowledge sets my blood on fire.

“I’ll be quick, it’s okay,” I murmur, throwing him a devilish smirk.

Freeing his hard cock from his jeans, he’s already leaking pre-cum for me. I greedily lick it up, loving the way his piercing feels on my tongue.

Between the tongue ring and the cock piercing, he’s really trying to kill me.

I take him in my mouth as far back as I can before gagging. Hollowing my cheeks, I begin to suck, bobbing my head up and down his shaft with undeniable hunger.

I never knew I could like having a dick in my mouth, but I fucking love it.

His left hand tightens his grip in my hair, while pistoning his hips to meet my mouth. “Fuck, baby, that’s it. Take this cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.” His words drive me crazy, and I moan with my lips wrapped tightly around his length.

Reaching one arm up underneath his shirt, finding his nipple and tweaking it between my fingers, I use my other hand to reach down and take my throbbing length out of my pants.

Thank fuck I wore sweats today.

My cock is rock hard, and the second my palm wraps around it, I could come. Working myself savagely, he continues to fuck my face with filthy intent. His breathing is harsh and the noises coming from him, despite trying to be quiet, are sexy as hell.

Dropping his head forward and moaning in a way that causes my nuts to draw up, he thrusts all the way in and holds me there for several seconds. Breathing through my nose to keep myself from gagging, I can’t help the tears that fall down my cheeks.

I gaze up at his face, with my throat full of him, reveling in the look in his eyes. He’s staring down at me with his jaw slack, eyes glazed over, his soft curls hanging in his eyes. Watching him lose control is staggering, and being the reason behind it is downright empowering. He swipes his thumb over my cheek, gathering a fallen tear, and brings it up, sucking it into his mouth.

I’m on cloud nine, so close to coming, and I can tell he is too.

Grabbing his balls with my free hand, I roll them, squeezing firmly, while continuing to work him deep in my throat.

With my eyes still on him, his cock thickens slightly in my mouth before he explodes down my throat, letting out a guttural groan. His release detonates my own, and I’m coming all over the floor below me.

He drops his head forward, resting on the bathroom door behind me, catching his breath.

Taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him, he lets out a small laugh. “I can’t believe we did that in an airport bathroom.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to do it on the plane, but I managed to contain myself.” I chuckle while tucking myself back into my pants.

He adjusts himself in his jeans while I get paper towels to clean up my mess on the floor. As soon as I’m done, he brings his lips to mine in a gentle but passionate kiss. He groans when he tastes himself on my tongue, gripping my throat the way he always does when we kiss.

I can only hope this is a preview of how our Christmas vacation is going to go. I could get used to this.