Fierce & Fabulous (Sassy Boyz) (13 page)

Chapter Twenty

Ansel couldn’t believe he’d done it. He’d actually agreed not to fuck anyone but Fitch, after two dates and one night together. His heart beat a mile a minute. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He just kept remembering why he’d called Fitch again. Why he’d taken the step toward some kind of future. He wanted...something else. Something new. And maybe that put his heart at risk, but when Fitch looked at him like that, it made him think unicorns were real and they pooped rainbows.

He just hoped that in the end he wasn’t so broken he couldn’t be repaired.

Then Fitch kissed him again and he didn’t have to hope. He’d sacrifice a hell of a lot to savor this feeling. The guy tasted like heaven. Determined to stop worrying about the future, he reached around and grabbed Fitch’s ass with one hand and snaked his other up to play with the hair at his nape. Fitch closed the small gap between them and pressed him tight against the refrigerator.

“I want you so bad,” Fitch grunted into his ear before closing his teeth on the lobe.

Ansel’s cock jumped and his hips flexed. “You have me,” he said. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” And wasn’t that a revelation? Because he meant every fucking word.

He shut his brain down. It was better for both of them if his body led the way tonight.

Fitch thrust his tongue into his mouth again with a deep, hungry groan. A big palm moved to his throat, a thumb pressed softly against his heavy pulse. It was a gentle hold, non-threatening, comforting.

“Do you mean it?” Fitch asked, barely a finger’s width between them, his hot breath panting against Ansel’s wet lips.

Where was all his sass? With anyone else he’d make some smart-ass remark to cool things down, lighten the mood. But he wanted Fitch to know he took this seriously. This wasn’t just another hookup. He’d come to terms with the power of their attraction since listening to the messages. Deep down he’d known since the first moment they’d laid eyes on each other. There had been instant recognition there, instant fear. He was tired of running away. If he was going to run in his goddamn heels, he wanted to run
toward
something, something amazing.

“Yes.” He didn’t know if he was capable of following through on the promise, but in that moment he belonged to Fitch.

Fitch’s fingers flexed imperceptibly on his throat. “This is gonna sound crazy. And if you don’t want to, it’s fine. But ever since I saw this one video online, I can’t get it out of my mind.”

What kinky thing Fitch was going to ask of him? But before he could think of anything, Fitch said, “I want to eat your hole.”

Christ.

Ansel trembled as he held Fitch’s gaze. That wasn’t something people did with casual hookups. He wet his lips trying to find the right words. He was grimy from the club. Even though he’d done his prep before work, he hadn’t planned on getting rimmed.

“Shower first,” he said.

Fitch’s lips curled into a devilish smile and he pressed a quick kiss to Ansel’s parted lips. “Really? Have you done it before? What’s it like?”

“No. It’s always been one of those fantasies you never really believe will come true.”

Fitch’s eyes softened. “I’ll try to make it worth the wait. I’ve been doing my research, I think I know what to do.”

Ansel leaned forward and said against Fitch’s lips, “I have no doubt.”

The bathroom was too cramped so Fitch waited in the hall until Ansel was undressed and under the hot spray. Then, inch by devastating inch, Fitch revealed his hard, hairy body. The tan lines around his collar and biceps were new, but the rest was just as Ansel remembered. He gripped his cock with a soapy fist and let his eyes roam.

“Angel, do what you need to do before I climb in there with you and break the shower.” Fitch leaned against the sink, legs spread, thick cock hard against his stomach, hands gripping the edge of the counter.

How was Ansel supposed to concentrate with such a distraction so close?

He squeezed some body wash into his sponge and started washing away the sticky sweat and club smoke. He spent extra time cleaning his privates and did his best to ignore Fitch’s grunts and groans. He was facing the tiled wall of the shower when he lifted his leg to the edge of the tub and used his fingers to rub the soap through his crease. He needed to be super clean. He didn’t want anything to ruin his chances.

He was twisting one lathered finger inside when Fitch’s hand slid down his spine.

“Let me.” Fitch massaged one cheek, petting, coaxing.

Ansel steadied himself with both hands on the tile wall and closed his eyes. Standing in the tub put his ass at Fitch’s chest level. There was nothing to hide him from inspection. He was spread open, exposed like he’d never allowed himself to be with anyone else. Tremors rocked his body. Only his dancer’s balance kept him from collapsing when Fitch pressed a sudsy finger to his hole.

“Mmm, yes.” His ass fluttered around Fitch’s digit.

“Damn, that’s hot.” There was a tinge of surprise in Fitch’s voice.

More. He needed more. He pressed back, moving his hips trying to force Fitch deeper.

“Easy, Angel.” One burning palm gripped his ass while Fitch stretched him. It was torture. It was a fucking tease. It was awesome.

“I’m clean enough. Fuck.”

Fitch chuckled and went back to the sink while Ansel rinsed, and then turned off the water.

“I’ve missed your cursing.”

Ansel smirked over his shoulder as he ran the towel over his chest. “I hope that’s not the only thing you missed.”

“I can think of a few other things.” Fitch locked his eyes on Ansel’s ass.

Just to make the guy smile, he wiggled his hips before turning. It worked and the grin splitting Fitch’s face was reward enough.

* * *

The bed was neatly made up this time and the clutter was gone. His dancer must have cleaned up for him. The idea made Fitch smile as Ansel closed and locked his door. He dropped his pile of clothes in the corner while Ansel flipped on a small lamp on the dresser and started combing his hair.

Fitch moved to stand behind, his cock nestled in the terrycloth-covered crease. “I thought you were in a hurry?”

Ansel tipped his head to expose his neck as he ran the comb through his wet hair. “I have to do this now or I’ll never untangle the mess once it’s dry.”

Fitch kissed up the long column of his throat.

“It would go faster if you didn’t distract me.” Ansel’s voice was breathy and it made his cock throb.

“Can’t help it. When you’re close I need to touch you, otherwise I go insane.”

“Fuck it.” Ansel tossed the comb on the dresser and turned in his arms.

Fitch grinned right before Ansel brought their mouths together. It was a wild mating, desperate, intense. Not like any other kiss they’d shared. Ansel tugged on his hair, grazed his bottom lip with his teeth, and made the hottest noises. Their bodies collided, each of them gripping, clutching, wanting to be closer. But the towel was in the way. Fitch ended the kiss with a frustrated groan and pulled off the offending material.

“Get on the bed,” he said.

Ansel blinked those amazing lashes flirtatiously. “I like it when you get bossy.”

“I know, Angel.” He smacked Ansel’s ass. “On your back, I like seeing your face.”

Ansel arranged himself in the middle of the queen-size mattress, knees bent, legs open like a goddamn offering. And Fitch’s mouth actually watered. He’d never done this before, but he was dying to try. During the past two weeks, he’d watched a ton of gay porn. As research.

It was time to put his new knowledge to good use.

As he approached, Fitch tried to slow his jackhammering heart. He wanted to do this right, make it so good Ansel would never forget. He maneuvered into position between Ansel’s legs and pressed a kiss to his shaking thigh.

“I’ve been tested,” Ansel said, his voice tiny and brittle.

Fitch paused and looked up to meet his wide green eyes.

“Just in case you were wondering, you know.” Ansel wet his bottom lip before it disappeared behind teeth.

What did it say about him that he hadn’t even thought about the risks he was taking? What did it say about his desire?

“I haven’t been tested.”

A wrinkle formed between two blond brows. “It’s okay, as long as we’re careful.”

He smoothed his palms down both of Ansel’s thighs. The skin was so smooth and luxurious, it was like petting polished porcelain.

“We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” He was so close to Ansel’s cock now he knew his breath must be fanning the moist tip.

Ansel expelled a pained laugh and lifted his hips. “Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

No, not sex, but intimacy sure seemed to make the guy squirm. What was more intimate than having a lover’s tongue in your ass? If Ansel wasn’t going to mention it, he wouldn’t either. He would, however, take his time.

He wanted Ansel wild, desperate, willing to do anything for just another moment. Deep down, that was how he’d been feeling since the night they’d met. Completely off balance.

Choosing not to reply, he settled lower on his stomach. Ansel’s cock was long and slender, his balls were high and tight and completely hairless. Fitch didn’t want to know how much effort it took to stay that way. Though he appreciated it as he sucked on the taut sack.

Ansel gasped and lifted both knees to his chest. Fucking perfect. Fitch swirled his tongue around the treat in his mouth while his own desire skyrocketed. He’d never imagined balls could be so delicious. He was tempted to stay right there for the rest of the night. If Ansel tasted this good here, how much stronger would his flavor be a little further south?

With a loud pop, he removed his mouth from Ansel’s sack and lifted his beautiful ass higher off the bed so he could bury his face between two firm cheeks. With the first lick across the sensitive star, Ansel began a keening moan. He was bent in half, his knees touching the mattress on either side of his chest, spread wide open with his cock leaking all over his abs.

Fitch thrust against the soft comforter for friction but didn’t close his eyes. He had a perfect view when Ansel’s face transformed into a mask of amazement. The blush that colored his face, the wonder flashing in those stunned green eyes, the way he couldn’t seem to keep still—it was all so charming, Fitch lost a piece of his heart. He knew the instant it broke away and fell into Ansel’s unknowing hands.

And he didn’t give a shit.

No matter what happened later, he’d always remember the awe on his Angel’s face.

Chapter Twenty-One

Fitch spent endless minutes licking, teasing, feasting. The sounds he forced out of his dancer were mind-blowing and he hadn’t even breached the hole yet. Still, he’d only tasted a hint of Ansel’s flavor and he wanted more. He stiffened his tongue to a point and flicked it fast over the tight star until it fluttered. A little steady pressure and it blossomed, letting him in.

Ansel fisted the sheets as his body rocked up to meet the invasion. The steady, breathless curses were music to Fitch’s ears.

So damn good.

He licked in as far as he could, swirled around, then fucked Ansel with his tongue.

“Oh my God.” Ansel panted, his head tipped back, the tendons in his neck stretched taut.

It was perfect, just what he wanted, complete and utter surrender. Ansel wasn’t thinking about anything but the way Fitch made him quake. Fitch reached around a muscular thigh to grip his lover’s cock, fisting him in time with his tongue lashes.

Ansel’s voice reached epic heights and his strong grip clutched at the back of Fitch’s head, holding him in place.

“Oh Christ. Fuck. Don’t stop, damn it. Oh God. Fuck.” It went on and on. Ansel’s fingers dug into his skin and his hips whipped up with amazing strength.

Fitch didn’t stop. He didn’t slow. He kept up the punishing pace until Ansel froze. His noises stopped. He didn’t even breathe for one heartbeat. Then he exploded.

His roar echoed off the ceiling, his cock pulsed, and jets of semen covered his pale torso.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Fitch pressed one final kiss to Ansel’s thigh before crawling up. He kissed his lover’s come-covered belly, then his beautiful flat chest. He kissed Ansel’s throat, his chin, his flushed cheek. Fitch looked into his lover’s face. Finally, he kissed his lips.

Ansel only moved enough to drape an arm over his shoulders and kiss him back.

When they separated, Ansel still hadn’t caught his breath. “Where did you learn how to do that?” His voice was rough and croaky.

He chuckled. “I’m not touching that one.”

Ansel punched his side, but it was an odd angle and without real intent so he barely felt it, which made him chuckle harder.

“I can’t move,” Ansel said.

Fitch lifted himself up. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna do all the work. All you need to do is take it. Now, where’d you hide the lube?”

Ansel looked up from hooded eyes and pointed to the side table. “Everything is in there.”

He patted Ansel’s side as he moved to gather the supplies. “Can you flip over or do you need me to do it for you?”

“Fuck off.” Ansel flashed a crooked smile and shook his head. “I think someone is getting a little too full of himself.”

Ansel rolled over, rose to his knees, and nested his face on the pillows. Presenting his hole as if he were one of the porn stars Fitch had been watching all week. When Ansel noticed him staring, he winked.

“You really are a sassy one, aren’t you? Perfect name for your group, especially if the rest of them are like you.”

“Honey, I’m the queen of sass. Ain’t no one like me.” For emphasis he wiggled his ass.

“I’d certainly have to agree with that, Angel. You are one of a kind. A goddamn star.” He landed a light smack to Ansel’s beautiful behind.

“Fuck.” Ansel buried his face in the cushions.

“You look good in this position.” He lubed his fingers and began to massage Ansel’s passage.

Ansel grunted. “I look good in every position.” It was muffled because he was still hiding his face.

Fitch grinned, grabbed a handful of ass with his clean hand, and squeezed. “Can’t argue with that.”

Ansel was already relaxed so Fitch’s index finger was sucked right in. It was glorious, watching a piece of himself move inside his dancer. Last time, he hadn’t been able to watch. This time, he was going to memorize every moment. He pushed in as far as he could and rotated his wrist like a corkscrew. It wasn’t hard to locate the prostate, not when Ansel hissed and shoved his ass back for more.

“You like that?”

Ansel didn’t reply, he just buried his face deeper in the pillows and thrust his hips. Confirmation wasn’t necessary, but he wanted to hear it anyway. He loved hearing Ansel’s voice. He crooked his finger just enough to rub the gland and then he retreated. Ansel whined, punched the bunched-up fabric near his head, and then tilted his face so he could glare over his shoulder.

“Remember last time when I called you sadistic?”

Fitch bent and kissed Ansel’s spine even as his finger found the spot inside his lover’s rectum again. He rubbed it.

“Yes, God.” Ansel reached around to grab Fitch’s arm, undulating his body in a wicked dance while Fitch teased every knob of his spine. “More, please.”

With a growl, Fitch grazed his teeth over Ansel’s skin. He pulled out to add more lube, then he worked two fingers inside. Ansel’s body was a fire and touching it set him aflame. His pulse had gone from quick to so impossible, he saw fireworks. Still, he urged Ansel to open further. He used his hand and fingers as a tease for the real thing. For endless minutes, he thrust and twisted and scissored until Ansel was begging incoherently, his fingernails digging hard enough to break the skin on Fitch’s arm.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Ansel sang.

“Soon, Angel. Soon.”

“God, Fitch. Please.” It was the hitch in his lover’s throat that pushed him into action. His hand shook when he grabbed the condom packet. He tore it open without finesse and rolled it on just as awkwardly.

“Okay,” he said.

As soon as Fitch plunged in, they both sighed. Fitch wrapped himself around the other man and breathed. Ansel clenched his ass and the shock wave rippled down Fitch’s cock to his balls then ricocheted up his spine. Groaning, he ground himself deeper into his lover. He held him tight to his chest as he moved his hips in little circles.

“Goddamn, Angel. You feel so good.” He clutched at his dancer’s body, buried his face in his shoulder, and urged them both to climb higher and higher.

Ansel’s only reply was a panting, heated moan.

It was the timeless give and take of a lust that had the power to rip worlds apart. They moved together again and again until Fitch’s skin was slick with sweat and Ansel glowed. If he could have made the minutes slow he would have, but too soon he was clenching his teeth to keep the peak at bay. He needed Ansel with him when he let go. For some reason, it felt necessary that they reach the end together.

“Not gonna last.” His balls got high and hard, his cock swelled.

Fighting the pleasure, he reached around and fisted Ansel’s half-erect cock.

“Yes, fast and hard.”

Fitch tightened his grip and quickened his strokes until Ansel was trembling in his arms and groaning into the sheets.

“That’s it, Angel, I need you to come with me.”

“Yeah. Fuck, Fitch.”

They moved together with increasing speed. Their skin slapped, their huffed breaths mixed. Before long, they were both shouting their release into the darkness.

* * *

Ansel stirred to consciousness when the warm wet cloth wiped his ass. He was disoriented until he opened his eyes and saw his lover’s content face looking down at him.

“I got you,” Fitch whispered in that deep sexy voice.

His pulse fluttered. “What happened?”

Fitch’s grin was incorrigible. “I fucked you into oblivion.”

“You wish.”

Fitch pressed a kiss to his temple, chuckling. Ansel would’ve fought the tender care, but he couldn’t be bothered. Every muscle in his body had forgotten how to move.

He didn’t remember a time when he’d been showered with so much adoration. He was a spotlight whore, he loved attention, but it had always been shallow. What Fitch gave was a whole different animal. It felt good. He closed his eyes again and let himself enjoy being cared for.

“Are you always so attentive after sex?” he asked. “I bet the girls eat that up like candy.” Good, just the right amount of callousness.

“I try,” Fitch answered with a final swipe between his legs. He dropped the cloth to the side of the bed and curled around him.

Fitch was a giver. Everything he’d witnessed so far about the man proved it. But who took care of Fitch? It seemed like he was always doing stuff for everyone else, being the designated driver for his sister, taking care of the business for his dad, watching over his mom, and even showering Ansel with affection. For the first time since they met, Ansel wanted to do something for Fitch. Something special. He just didn’t know what.

“You don’t have to do it for me. I’m not a damsel. I won’t get offended if you fuck and run.” He peeked at Fitch’s face to see his reaction.

One brow lifted, Fitch asked, “Is that what usually happens?”

Ansel tried to shrug, but he still had trouble communicating with his muscles. “Pretty much.”

Fitch shifted closer. “Not my style.”

He could so easily get sucked in by Fitch’s sincerity. He rarely met people as true and honest. Those he found became permanent fixtures in his life. Ange, the boys, Ray—they were all good, caring people. It had hurt so much to lose Ray. He didn’t know if he could handle losing any of the others. And Fitch? There was no chance what they’d started would last. But he couldn’t stop himself from burrowing deeper into the promises held in those deep brown eyes.

He was such a fucking fool.

Gathering as much strength as he could, he rolled away. A lame attempt at distance with the even lamer excuse of checking the time.

“How long was I out?” It was already four in the morning. The sun would be up soon and even though it was Easter Sunday, he had to work.

“Don’t worry. I’ll leave soon.” Fitch hooked his middle and pulled him back against his hard body.

God, he was warm. Ansel sighed and snuggled into the comforting heat. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure,” Fitch said as he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

“I’m not trying to kick you out, but I do have to work in, like, five hours.”

“It’s okay. I promised to go to church again with the folks so I’ll need to leave soon.”

Fitch’s cock was nestled against his ass, hard and insistent. Ansel pushed back against it. “It doesn’t feel like you’re in any hurry.”

Fitch moaned. “I told you. I have no control over it. Whenever you’re close, my body goes mad.” He underlined his words by thrusting his dick into Ansel’s crease.

Ansel rolled to straddle Fitch. “We don’t have time.”

“It’s so hot when you do that.”

He smirked and shook his head. “I don’t think you’d like it if I really topped you.”

With hooded eyes, Fitch asked, “You top too?”

Ansel tilted his head. Was that interest he saw? Wow. In his experience the really straight ones avoided bottoming like it was the most terrifying thing in the world.

“Not very often. Most guys look at me and assume I’m a bottom.”

Fitch’s brow furrowed. “I guess I’m guilty of that. I didn’t even think about it.” He looked past Ansel like he was deep in thought.

“Don’t worry, I like bottoming. I like bottoming for you a whole hell of a lot.” He stroked Fitch’s still-hard shaft to add weight to his claim. The distraction worked. Fitch regained focus and sat up to surround Ansel with his arms. They played leisurely even though both of their bodies were primed and desperate.

“When can I see you again?” Fitch asked when they broke apart.

“I don’t know. I’m working double shifts at the shop all week to cover for a coworker. As it is, I’ll be missing three rehearsals.”

“And I’m busy with this remodel project. I wouldn’t be able to get back into the city during the week anyway.” Fitch nibbled his ear.

“Saturday night again?”

“If I call, will you answer this time?” Fitch stopped his assault on his neck and looked into his eyes.

He had to swallow the giant lump of guilt at the worry he saw there. “I’ll answer. And if I can’t, I’ll call back.”

“Okay.”

Fitch got dressed in silence and this time Ansel walked his lover to the door. Their goodbye kiss was full of promise. It made him consider all kinds of crazy, stupid things. Things he’d given up a long fucking time ago. Happy endings and peace-on-earth type of shit that just didn’t happen for people like him.

Nothing in his life had proved him wrong yet.

But for the four hours after Fitch left, Ansel slept without dreaming, without worries.

He slept like he’d never slept before.