Puzzle by Nora Phoenix

19

He should never have agreed to a shower. Ryder was already regretting it as he rolled off the bed. Showering together was way more intimate than sex, strange as it might sound. It meant looking at Branson, seeing him, and that seemed the worst idea ever. Not that Branson was bad to look at. Hell no. The guy was insanely hot, even more so naked when every one of his perfect muscles was on full display, rippling like they did now as Branson walked into the bathroom.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. But if Ryder backed out now, he’d be an asshole. Or it would appear as if he regretted this, which he was sure he should and would the day after, but right now, he didn’t. Branson had perfectly scratched his itch for a hard fuck, and if he could repeat that once more, all the better. So maybe Ryder should initiate sex in the shower. He could suck Branson until he was hard again, then entice him to fuck Ryder again. Shower problem solved.

Decision made, he took a deep breath and headed in. Steam was already filling the bathroom, and Branson stepped under the hot water as Ryder joined him. “I thought you’d changed your mind.” Branson studied him.

“Nope, just needed a moment.”

After a long look, Branson tilted his head back and let the water run down his hair and face. He rubbed his wet face, then moved aside. “Your turn.”

Ryder fought to keep his features neutral as he inched closer to him, positioning himself under the showerhead. Branson grabbed one of those little hotel-sized bottles and squeezed some liquid out, then washed his hair. Okay, this was good. Ryder could do this casual stuff. He wet his hair as well, then took the shampoo from Branson and soaped his head. And if he made an effort to avoid meeting Branson’s eyes, well, that was to prevent it from getting awkward.

He peeked at him from between his lashes, averting his eyes when Branson was watching him, a soft smile playing on his lips as if he knew what Ryder was doing. Maybe he did, but as long as he didn’t bring it up, Ryder had plausible deniability, or so he kept telling himself.

The shower gel might come in a small bottle, but the scent was penetrating. The bathroom reeked like it had just been cleaned with the Mr. Clean lemon spray Ryder always used. Not exactly sexy. Branson crumpled his nose. “Jesus, I smell like Lysol.”

Ryder snorted, finally daring to look at Branson. “I know, right?”

“I understand they have to use something that’s suitable for all genders, but who the fuck wants to smell like a lemon grove?” Then he smiled. “We’ll just have to replace it with the aroma of sex…”

Ryder swallowed. “I think that would be preferable, yes.”

Branson’s smile was slow and sexy, making Ryder’s belly flutter. Uh-oh. Nope, he wasn’t going there. Sexy was all fine and well, but he’d been there before, and that had brought him nothing but heartbreak and money issues. He might’ve been an idiot with Paul, but he wasn’t stupid enough to make the same mistake twice.

“Yeah? You’re up for round two?”

Should he make a lame joke about being up all right, considering his cock was perking up? Nah, too easy. And too tacky. “Yeah.”

Branson turned off the water, then licked his fingers, taking his time to wet them thoroughly, all the while pinning Ryder down with his eyes. His hungry gaze shot hot sparks straight to Ryder’s dick. Branson brought his hand to Ryder’s ass, his move casual, as if he’d done it a thousand times before, as if he had every right to touch him like that. And then his wet finger pressed against Ryder’s still slick hole, and Ryder opened up, letting him in.

“Fuck,” he moaned, widening his stance.

Branson sank his finger inside Ryder, and as if that wasn’t good enough, curled it until it rested right against his sweet spot. His touch was tender as he rubbed it, every gentle circle sending fireworks through Ryder’s body. One finger became two, but still his movements were slow and deliberate.

Ryder hissed, alternatively pushing his ass back for more and trying to move away. It felt too good, too close, too intimate. The thrills that raced through him made him rise on his toes, his body taut with the effort of processing it all. The fire in Branson’s eyes became too much, and he dropped his head against Branson’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to look at him. As a response, Branson yanked him closer, pumping his two fingers in and out of him.

How could that feel so good after already being fucked? He’d expected it would be pleasant, nice, but not this crazy good. Not the goose bumps-inducing, cock-hardening, take-my-breath-away level of pleasure that was coursing through his body. If Branson kept that up, Ryder would come on the spot.

Every breath became a shallow one, him desperately sucking in air as Branson made his body rise higher and higher. Himalayas high. Mount Everest high. The pressure built in his balls, his cock. His whole body was tingling and humming, buzzing with electricity and sparks. Despite the steam still present in the bathroom, he shivered. Too many sensations.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll blow,” he said between gritted teeth. “And I can’t guarantee I’ll have enough energy left after that to let you fuck me again.”

Branson’s hand stilled. “Your choice.”

Dammit, the man had been paying attention, and how sexy was that? “Considering this is a one-time thing, I’d rather you fuck me again.”

Branson pulled his fingers out, and Ryder leaned against him for a moment longer to catch his breath. His body retreated from that cliff, grumbling and reluctantly. When he was sure he could walk again, he let go of Branson. Would it get awkward now? Transitions in sex could be so impossible to navigate.

But Branson didn’t seem to have that problem. He snagged two towels from the towel rack and handed one to Ryder. He dried off fast and rough while Branson did the same, and then they both walked back into the room. Before Ryder could even feel awkward, Branson grabbed his wrist and yanked it, making Ryder tumble against him. His squeal of surprise was caught by Branson’s lips, and he moaned.

They ended back up on the bed, still kissing, and this time, Ryder took the opportunity to run his hands down Branson’s body. Fuck, his strength was such a turn-on, those powerful muscles, big arms, wide chest. The freaking six-pack that tapered down into a pair of perfect cum gutters. He wanted to worship those abs, kiss every inch. Lick them and claim them.

Branson flipped Ryder onto his back, then sank his weight on top of him. He rolled his hips, dragging his hard cock over Ryder’s body. He whimpered with impatience. How long was Branson gonna make him wait? Ryder wanted that thick cock inside him again, like, yesterday. His hole twitched with need, and his cock was leaking like crazy onto his stomach, making it all wet and sticky.

Maybe if he spread his legs, Branson would get the hint. He rolled his hips, bowing into him, meeting him with a move of his own that had Branson moan. “Jesus, you’re so perfect…” he grunted. “So fucking perfect. Your ass, your body, that tight little hole of yours that sucks my cock right in. Perfection.”

The stronger Branson’s hold on him, the more he put his weight on Ryder to pin him down, the hotter Ryder’s blood ran. He was hard, so fucking hard. Aching with need. Branson pushed him into the mattress, holding him in place with one hand while rubbing against him, smearing his precum all over him. What should’ve felt dirty and a bit demeaning instead was hot as fuck. And the effortless way Branson did it all, not even panting or sounding winded, made it all the more arousing. Maybe because Ryder felt safe, trusting Branson to stop if he protested. Despite Branson being a solid wall of muscle, unmovable even when Ryder tried, he wouldn’t hurt him.

“Condom,” Branson mumbled against his lips. “I need a condom.”

“Yeah.” Ryder felt light-headed as Branson rolled off him for a moment, then returned all sheathed up and slick.

He pulled up his legs, sighing with pleasure as Branson’s cock found his entrance and slid in. He loved that burn from the first fuck, but this effortless entry, the slower second round where they’d both last much longer, was equally pleasurable, if not more. And Branson took his time, kissing him until his lips were throbbing and swollen, until the fire in this belly had roared so high it threatened to engulf him.

He felt every inch as Branson surged back into him again, then retreated until only the tip was inside him. Precise, controlled, every thrust measured for maximum effect. His ass was burning, tingling with the slow buildup. Their first round had been frantic and fast, but this one dragged him higher step by step, stroke by stroke, kiss by kiss as Branson didn’t let go of his mouth.

They shouldn’t kiss this much. Kissing was intimate. Kissing was for lovers, not hookups. Yet Ryder couldn’t make himself pull away, turn his head, evade the firm lips that kept seeking his, the slick tongue that kept dueling with his own, Branson’s feel and taste and smell. He invaded every cell of Ryder’s body, and Ryder was helpless to stop it. It felt too good.

He’d missed this for so long. Branson’s focus was on Ryder as if nothing else existed, and the outside world faded away. No distractions, no sighs or frustration at being interrupted, no quick fuck just so Ryder would be satisfied. Branson might not love him, like Paul had claimed—and look how that had turned out—but he loved fucking him, and that was enough. Ryder didn’t need love anymore. An eight-inch cock and a man who knew how to use it were enough. At least for the foreseeable future.

The constant friction in his ass and on his cock, which was trapped between their bodies, built his desire, his need little by little until it burned hot and bright inside him. Thrills meandered down his spine, then back up again, as if his body couldn’t decide which way to go. His balls ached, churned, flush against his body. His cock…oh, it throbbed, caught where he couldn’t touch it, but he wouldn’t have, even if he could. This was so much better, this fight to come, this pressure rising and brewing everywhere.

Until he couldn’t take it anymore, the need to come too big, too demanding. “Please…” he begged against Branson’s lips. “Please, Branson…”

If Branson had asked him to explain, he wouldn’t have been able to, but he didn’t. Instead, Branson pushed himself up on his elbows, and Ryder wrapped his legs around him, holding on to him as Branson sped up. His thrusts went from smooth and sleek to rough and hard until he was jackhammering his ass.

Ryder’s brain shorted out, frizzling and sputtering as his whole body went haywire. His vision went white, then black as he screamed, and a millisecond later, his trapped cock released its second load. It hurt, but god, it hurt so good. His breath caught in his lungs, his body spasming and shaking until it finally released all the tension. He vaguely registered Branson coming as well, but it took a long time before he came back to earth.

When he did, Branson had rolled off him and was asleep, the condom tied down and discarded. He studied him, Branson’s sexiness not even dimmed in the slightest by his closed eyes. Damn, that had been the best fuck Ryder had had in a long, long time. Maybe even the best fuck ever. Too bad it had been with the one guy who was off-limits for him for too many reasons to count.

No, this had to stay a one-time thing, a Vegas experience neither of them would ever mention again, but it would have to be enough. Anything more was impossible.