In His Kiss

Chapter 14

It pays to pay the doorman.


Brian had just drifted off to sleep when he heard the buzzing sound of his cell phone as it vibrated on the kitchen counter, followed by the clattering sound it made as it fell off to the ground. Shit. Who could be calling at this time of night?

He suddenly had visions of Gus in the hospital, and almost killed himself trying to get to the kitchen with a leg still tangled in the sheet.

Of course, the phone had come apart. He hunted around for the battery, and had just put it in when it started vibrating again.

“Hello?” Fuck. He needed to wake up. What kind of moron answered the phone with ‘Hello’?

“Mr. Kinney?”

“Yes.”

“It’s Jeremy, from Essengy. Justin just showed up at the club. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“Thanks.”

He had showered after his run. He went to the bathroom to check himself in the mirror. He needed a shave and his hair looked terrible. He hopped in a very hot shower for five minutes, the heat softening his beard. He came out, shaved, and did his hair while planning what to wear.

He called a cab, put on his favorite jeans without underwear and a sleeveless black shirt. He went back to the bathroom to floss, brush his teeth and gargle with some minty mouthwash. Pot always gave him funky breath.

It was exactly midnight when he got to the club. He slipped Jeremy a hundred, and walked in. On Sunday nights, the clubs were usually less crowded, and Essengy was no exception. It took Brian less than five minutes to spot Justin.

He looked amazing. His naked torso was covered in glitter and his low riding jeans were tight in all the right places. He was dancing, sandwiched between some tall hunk wearing an open silvery shirt, and a shirtless muscle guy with a great tan. The contrast made Justin’s skin look luminous. His eyes were closed, and he leaned his head back on muscle guy’s shoulder. Mr. T seemed to take that as a permission to start running his hands down Justin’s arms, and that was definitely not on.

Brian made his way over, slipped an arm between Justin and each of his companions and pushed them off. They might have protested if it weren’t for the fact that Justin turned to him with the most amazing smile and put his arms around his neck. They rested their foreheads together for a moment, looking at each other, and Brian ran his hands lightly over Justin’s back, savoring the satin smoothness of his skin. Then they were kissing, and all was right in the world.

He loved the taste of Justin’s mouth, the scent of his neck and the smell of his clean sweat. He loved running his fingers through his incredibly soft hair and running his hand all over his warm smooth skin. He loved grabbing his ass, and grinding against him, feeling Justin’s erection against his own. He loved the way the smaller body felt against his, everything seemingly within easy reach. He loved the way Justin seemed to melt in his arms, in complete surrender, his mouth all softness for him to plunder.

He wanted to take him to bed and lick and kiss and bite every inch of his skin. He wanted to spend hours worshiping the perfect ass in his hands, rimming him and listening to him moan and beg, he wanted to fuck him gently until he asked to be pounded into, and feel him tighten and pulse around his cock as he came screaming his name. And come morning, he wanted to do it all over again.

He wouldn’t, of course. There were few hard-set rules in his life but on those, he never strayed. Never fuck without a condom was the first one. Never fuck a subordinate was another. Plexus’s policy was crystal clear, but more to the point, he had been down that road at his previous job and learned his lesson the hard way.

Another three weeks and Justin’s internship would be over. He knew Justin wanted him just as badly as he wanted Justin. As Christmas presents went, this was going to be spectacular. Justin didn’t fuck strangers. They certainly weren’t strangers anymore, and Brian could think of no better way to say goodbye now that their association was going to be over.

Until then, there was this. Kissing Justin was hotter than some of the blowjobs he’d had lately. He would give his left nut to have Justin come in his arms again, to feel him shake and pulse and know he’d done it with no more than a kiss.

His own cock was throbbing, and then Justin’s hand was there, caressing him through the denim, and that was just unfair. He pushed his own hands down the back of Justin’s jeans, grabbing the soft firm cheeks, almost lifting him off his feet to line up their erections. Justin moaned into his mouth, and when Brian smiled, bit his lower lip.

What were the rules here? No fucking, no blowjobs, but what else? Was it OK to bring each other off, as long as it was on the dance floor? Were these his rules, or Justin’s? Could he get sued for frotting an intern to completion in the middle of a club? He knew Justin regularly got sucked off in the Lounge. Was a hand job OK?

With anyone else, this would have been too infantile to even bother, but Justin felt so damn good, his kisses so… right. Instead of being puerile, the whole thing was intensely erotic. He ran a finger up Justin’s crack, continuing up his spine, collecting a bead of sweat. He brought his finger to his mouth and savored the saltiness.

Once again, they had abandoned any pretense of dancing, and were just making out, getting more and more worked up with their pants still on. Justin’s hands were inside Brian’s shirt, playing with his nipples, scratching his back. Brian's hands were in Justin’s hair, holding his head as he devoured his mouth.

He slipped a hand down Justin’s back again, to his jean clad ass, and moved him even tighter against him, and there it was, the trembling he remembered, as Justin tried to back away. Brian held firm, sucking on Justin’s tongue. And Justin stopped fighting, molding himself on Brian’s body as the shaking gave way to the telltale pulse of orgasm.

Brian leaned over to Justin’s ear, licked the outer rim, enjoying Justin’s shiver, and whispered in his ear, “Good boy…”

Justin chuckled, and answered against his neck, “Asshole”.

“If you come to the lounge, I’ll lick you clean…” suggested Brian, looking at him with his eyebrows raised.

“I just bet.” Brian loved Justin’s smile. “No, I think I’ll go home now.”

Brian kissed his forehead. “Share a cab?”

“…OK.”

“Let’s go.”

Brian kept his arm around Justin as they crossed the dance floor and went to the coat check, and put it back again once they were clothed for the outside. Jeremy whistled, a cab pulled up and Justin gave his address. They got in the back of the cab, Brian’s arms wrapped around Justin, his chin on his head.

Brian's cock was still hard as steel, but he ignored it in favor of enjoying holding Justin’s body against his. Traffic was nonexistent, and they got to the edge of Brooklyn, where Justin’s brownstone was, in no time. Justin turned to him, and was about to say something but changed his mind, giving him a kiss on the lips instead.

As they pulled away, Brian gave the cabby his address, back in Manhattan, and rested his head on the back of the seat. He was half asleep when the cab pulled up in front of his building. He paid and walked to the side door that led to his private elevator. He tapped in the code to open the door, and the code to bring down the elevator. He typed the code to open his front door, and the one to disarm his alarm, and rearm it taking the loft’s occupant into account.

He stripped off, and went to bed, Justin’s taste and smell still with him, and jerked off, bringing himself to the edge, stopping, and doing it again and again, images of the evening alive behind his lids. He came hard, and long, thinking of Justin’s trembled warning and pulsing release. He had never wanted anyone so much in his life.
 

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