Page 102 of In at the Deep End

Owen gave a comical wince. “Preferably not. Watch the teeth.”

He inched forward, straddling Matt’s chest, his cock painting Matt’s lips with pre-cum, his eyes focused on Matt’s.

Another new experience, one Matt had been imagining since Owen had sucked him in the hotel room.

He opened his mouth, Owen pulled the foreskin back, eased the head between his lips, and Matt got his first taste of a guy’s cock.

A very fat cock.

Matt moaned around Owen’s girth, and Owen brought a finger to his lips, his eyes wide. He pulled free, and Matt stared at him.

“Okay, we need to rethink this.” Owen bent down and kissed him, his tongue exploring Matt’s mouth. Matt cupped Owen’s head, trembling.

“I’m sorry.”

Owen’s eyes widened. “Hey, we’re not stopping—we’re just taking this indoors.” He pulled back far enough to look Matt in the eye. “Unless you want me to stop?”

Matt shook his head. “I want this.”

There’d been a time when every feeling demanded analysis.

Somewhere between the pool, the Savoy, the dissertation, the laughter, and a hundred ordinary moments in between, the research had quietly become a conclusion.

Matt wanted as much as Owen was prepared to give.

Chapter Twenty-One

Owen closed the patio door, then rested one hand against the frame.

Matt was still naked, garments clutched in his hand. He was flushed, either from the heat or the activity, lips slightly swollen from their kisses. His chest heaved as though he’d run a mile.

Time to slow this down.

“We should talk.”

Matt blinked. “Okay, I didn’t expect that.”

“I don’t want to make assumptions.”

Matt’s breathing hitched, and those eyes stayed locked on Owen’s, the scent of coconut pervading the air.

“I mean, I know where I’d like this to go.” Owen managed a smile. “But I don’t know where you want it to go.”

He drew in a deep breath. “What we’ve done—what we were doing—I… I liked it.” Another breath. “I want to keep exploring this.”

Owen arched his eyebrows. “‘Exploring’ can mean a lot of different things.”

“I know.” Matt glanced at their surroundings. “Can I just say this feels so weird, standing in your lounge without a stitch on.”

He lowered his gaze to where Matt’s cock was at half-mast. “Part of you doesn’t seem to be fazed by it.” Then he stepped closer, the head of his own dick brushing Matt’s hip. Owen ignored it and cupped Matt’s chin, looking him in the eye. “So tell me what you know.”

Matt had stopped trying to predict Owen several days ago.

Right then, he was making space for Matt to think, which went some way to diminishing Matt’s nerves. His head was all over the place, his imagination already running riot, his heart still pounding from where they’d almost gone.

And Matt wanted to get back there.

“I’ve never…” He searched for words that sounded honest rather than dramatic. “I’ve never been with a man.” Owen nodded, and Matt had to smile. “No surprise there, right?”