Pup (5 page)
clove, cinnamon, and gingerwarm and rich, filled Micah’s nostrils when he stepped into Tackett’s penthouse.
Micah stepped out of his flip-flops and curled his toes in the plush carpet
beneath his feet. He skimmed a finger over the cool marble table next to the door, then stepped farther into the room.
Micah took in the masculine and rich décor of the open floor plan. The entire back wall was made of glass; he saw the New York skyline lit up like thousands of twinkling Christmas lights casting a colorful glow. Sleek leather furniture was soft beneath his touch. He stopped briefly to pet the fur throw lying across the back of a chair, the short silky hairs tickling his palm. The kitchen was sleek and modern, and he wanted to take it all in, to touch, explore, but it was the view that called to him, propelled him to the far side of the room.
“Wow! What a gorgeous view. Do you mind?” he asked, pointing to the sliding glass doors.
“Be my guest. I’ll grab us some drinks and meet you out there. What can I get for you?”
“Whatever you’re having,” Micah said absently, already stepping out onto the balcony.
On the right were a couple small potted trees: a weeping fig and a brightly colored Japanese maple. To his left, a wide chaise lounge with thick burgundy cushions spanned nearly the entire width of the balcony, leaving only enough room for an iron side table with a smoky glass top. The perfect spot for lying out to sunbathe or, better yet, sprawled out naked on a warm summer night with Tackett pounding into him. A shudder worked its way down Micah’s spine, leaving goose bumps on his flesh as he imagined it.
And then there was the view. Micah gripped the metal railing, still warm from the sun that had set hours ago. At this height, he was above the roaring noise, the constant blowing horns, angry voices, squealing of car tires. The sounds of the city were muffled, a low buzz of pleasant noise that drifted up with the wind. The thick odors of diesel and exhaust fumes, garbage, and other harsh, unpleasant scents were carried away on the breeze. He was beyond the reach of any danger that lurked at street level. From this vantage point, New York was safe and beautiful.
“Now you see why I bought this place,” Tackett said, coming up beside Micah and handing him a bottle of water.
“Thank you,” he said, accepting it. “It’s magnificent. I so could live right here.”
“Gets a little chilly in the winter.” Tackett smiled and wrapped his arm around Micah’s waist.
Tackett pushed close against Micah’s side. Like the railing, it felt as if the sun was still radiating from the man’s skin, warming Micah. “Guess I better enjoy it while I can. How long have you lived here?”
“Just a little over three years. Bought it right after I moved from Vegas.”
“Are you from Vegas?”
“No. Born and raised right here.”
“Why in the world would you move back? Warmth and sun year-round? I’d love that.”
“I thought I would too. I like heat.”
Tackett ran his hand up Micah’s back. He could feel the coolness of Tackett’s hand, from where he’d been holding the cold water bottle, through the thin material of his T-shirt, making him shiver a little. Oh yeah, he liked heat too. A lot.
“And I did for about two years,” Tackett continued. “Then I missed the change of the seasons and green. Everything in Nevada is brown.”
“I don’t know, I think I could enjoy lying naked in the hot sand and sunning year round.”
Tackett skimmed his fingers through Micah’s curls before they were grabbed in a tight fist, tugging his head back. Tackett’s gaze was hungry when he said, “Wherever you’re lying naked, it would be hot.”
Tackett’s flavor filled his mouth just as his scent filled Micah’s nose. Micah was enveloped in warmth and melted into the kiss and the muscular body. He moaned his pleasure into Tackett’s mouth, pulling a response from the man, deep and growly, that Micah felt all the way down to his toes, which curled with excitement.
What had Tackett said? What had he been about to reply?
Micah couldn’t remember, didn’t care. His focus narrowed to the taste on his tongue, the smell of Tackett’s warm, musky scent, and the man’s touch.
Tackett moved them away from the railing slowly, releasing Micah’s hair to caress his back, encouraging Micah with hands and mouth to follow. Micah did without question, not wanting to lose Tackett’s lips on his, or the hands on his flesh.
The bottle was taken from him, and then Micah was clutching Tackett’s biceps as he began to fall, landing heavily on top of Tackett’s muscular body.
“Now to prove my point and find out just how hot.” Tackett grabbed the hem of Micah’s T-shirt and yanked up, forcing him to lean back. Micah laughed at the huff of frustration that escaped Tackett when the fabric got caught around Micah’s head.
“Here, let me help.” Micah sat back and pulled the shirt over his head, throwing it behind him. He started to lean down, but Tackett stopped him by splaying his hand on Micah’s chest.
“Now the shorts.”
Micah reached for the waistband of his shorts.
“No. Stand up first. I want to watch.”
Keeping his gaze locked with Tackett’s, Micah scooted off the end of the lounge, their eyes only briefly losing sight when Tackett pulled his shirt off. The wind had picked up, cooling the night air, but Micah didn’t feel it. He was hot, as if a fire had been ignited from within, his blood rushing, spreading the warmth throughout, and settling heavily in his groin.
Micah slid his shorts to his thighs, bending at the waist, showing off his flexibility as he pushed them to his feet without bending his legs, teasing, before slowly standing up. Micah bit his lip to hide the smile that threatened when he heard Tackett suck in a harsh breath and saw his hand pressed against his crotch.
“Hands behind your back. Push your chest out.”
“What is it with you toppy men always wanting to see us on display?” Micah quipped, but even as he spoke, went ramrod straight, chest puffed up and arms taut. Micah’s hard cock was also proudly on exhibit, thrust out and bobbing.
“I can only speak for myself, but I compare it to fine dining. The presentation often determines whether I plan to snack or feast.”
Tackett’s hand began a rhythmic massage across his groin, the muscles of his forearms straining when he pressed his palm hard against his cock. God, Micah wanted that strong hand on him. Wanted to wrap his own around the fat cock, guide it to his mouth, and feel it against his tongue.
“And what—” His voice cracked, and he swallowed before trying again. “And what is your conclusion, sir?” Micah asked, eyes glued to Tackett’s hand as he continued to stroke himself.
For long moments, he was held captive by Tackett’s movements before he realized his question hadn’t been answered. “Sir?”
“Turn around. Slowly.”
Micah did as he was asked, a rush of excitement going through him as he became aware once more where they were. He couldn’t help but wonder if anyone could see him from the windows of the other buildings. He hoped they could. Would they stay to watch the show? Binoculars held to their eyes with one hand, the other wrapped around their dicks, stroking.
“Legs apart, bend at the waist, please.”
He obeyed silently, assuming the position. Micah was proud of his body. He was healthy, took good care of himself, and his strong muscles were well defined. Micah wasn’t the least bit worried; he knew his body would please Tackett. Still, it was a humiliating position, and his eyes went from one lighted window to the next, searching, to keep his mind off his discomfort.
“Very, very nice.” Tackett’s voice was tight with apparent arousal. “Turn back around and return to display position.”
For a man who claimed he didn’t want a scene and only wanted to fuck, Tackett sure was acting all demanding Dom. It worked for Micah; he found Tackett’s dominant side and authoritative voice sexy as hell. Working hard to keep his sly grin in check, Micah straightened and turned slowly around.
“Jesus,” he hissed, his mouth falling open. He gaped the instant his eyes landed on Tackett.
Tackett had pushed his shorts down, the elastic waistband below his balls, pushing them up obscenely. But it was the long, fat cock wrapped in a tight fist, flared head glistening around the slit, that had Micah panting.
Tackett’s eyes were dark with lust, a flush creeping up his chest, coloring his flesh as he continued to stroke himself. “See something you like, pup?”
“I’ve been thinking about you, imagining what you would look like naked for months. God, you are so fucking hot, so much better than I could ever have dreamed. I….” Micah’s eyes trained on Tackett’s hand, the thick, weeping, flared head distracting him. He cleared his throat. “I can’t wait to get my hands, my mouth on you. Would you like that, sir? Feel me sucking that beautiful cock into my mouth, swallowing you down to the root?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tackett shifted, spreading his legs wider.
“Yes!”
Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.
Tackett didn’t stop pulling on his cock. In fact his strokes quickened slightly, hips starting to thrust upward. The precum seeping from the slit made Micah’s mouth water and his own leaking cock throb.
“Can I? Can I come to you, drop to my knees, and offer you my mouth?”
“You’ve been teasing me for months.” Tackett gasped, arching off the chaise lounge. “Only fair I repay the favor, don’t you think?”
“No, sir.” Micah sighed. “I was being mean and very naughty. You’re seasoned, above that kind of impetuous behaviors.” Micah prayed Tackett was; he was so hard, it hurt.
“Is that what you are, Micah? An impetuous pup?”
“Yes! I’m impetuous, naughty, a tease, and so goddamn horny I’m about to fucking pop.”
Tackett laughed, and a sliver of worry began to unfurl in Micah’s gut at the evil tone of it.
Tackett wouldn’t dare….
When Tackett shoved his shorts farther down his legs, knees falling open and one hand sliding over his balls, fingers disappearing behind them, Micah knew he really would be that evil. When a husky groan passed Tackett’s lips, his body going tight, Micah whimpered, knowing exactly where at least one of those fingers had ended up.
“You’re so mean,” Micah grumbled under his breath.
“Aw, poor abused boy. I thought you loved teasing?”
Stroke. Stroke. Stroke.
“I’m a changed man. I’ve seen the error of my ways.”
Tackett laughed again, and how he could while continuing to pump hard on his cock, his other hand in sync beneath his balls, was beyond Micah. Jesus, it looked as if Tackett could tease him all night—Micah swallowed his groan— maybe for days.
“I thought you said you had a hard time focusing? You seem to be focusing quite completely on your dick….” Tackett slowed his hand, sweeping his thumb across the swollen head, smearing the wetness. “And mine.”
“Some things just kind of demand my attention. Command it even.”
“C’mere.”
Oh thank fuck
. Micah moved to the lounge, taking the offered hand.
“Straddle me.”
Another easy command to follow, although he held tight to Tackett, his muscles trembling and making Micah a little unsteady. Tackett pulled his hands free, putting both of them on Micah’s thighs and pushing him down hard.
“Fuck!” Micah cried out when his balls came in contact with Tackett’s hard cock.
“Later,” Tackett grunted, encouraging Micah to move.
Micah placed his palms against Tackett’s lightly furred chest and began slowly rolling his hips, the friction of their hard cocks pressed together bringing him to the edge quickly.
“How the hell haven’t you popped yet? Fuck, I don’t think I can hold back much longer and I haven’t even touched myself yet.”
“One of the perks of age.” His grip on Micah’s thighs tightened. “Harder.”
Clenching his jaw, Micah moved faster, snapping his hips as he tried to find purchase on the sweat-slick skin beneath his hands. He was a hair’s breadth away from cumming. The expression on Tackett’s handsome face, the hungry glow in his hazel eyes, made it all the more difficult not to. He wanted to cum. Now.
“Faster!” Tackett demanded. His grip, now on Micah’s hips, bruised.
“I….” He couldn’t bear that predatory look anymore; he’d cum, dammit. Micah threw his head back, eyes open, trying to focus on the starlit sky above. “I’m going to cum.”
“Harder, dammit!”
Micah moved faster, Tackett’s voice and hands demanding it. His need to please this man was absolute. “I…. Oh, fuck! Can’t. Can’t… I….”
“Cum for me. Let me feel it. Want to smell it.”
Even before the last word was spoken by Tackett, one more pass of their cockheads, Micah opened his mouth to shout his release. The sound caught in his throat as he let go. Even as his muscles tightened, relief flowed through him, and Micah shot his release in spasming waves.
A deep rumbling growl filled the silence around them, the muscular body beneath him becoming more tense as the wet heat increased vastly with their shared orgasms.
After the last wracking spasm gave way, Micah collapsed on top of Tackett, breathing harshly against his sweatdamp neck. “Damn, that was impressive.”
Tackett laughed, wrapping his arms around Micah’s back. “That was just the appetizer, boy. Give me a bit and I’ll be ready to feast.”
He’d died. That was the only explanation. He’d just fucking died, because Micah was pretty sure he’d just landed in heaven.
“I can’t wait to be devoured.”
