Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

miss something?”
    “I suppose you covered the major points.”
    “I missed you.”
    “That’s excellent. You’re really getting the hang of it now.”
    “I don’t want it to be over.”
    I thought he was going to make another smart-ass reply, but instead he said softly, “I don’t either, Jonny.” And I knew that the derivative of my name, even said in mockery, was a peace offering of sorts.
    “Can I see you tonight?”
    “Tonight? I don’t know, darling. I’m terribly busy.”
    “Then when?”
    “I’ll have to check my calendar and get back to you.”
    “Really?”
    “You don’t believe me?”
    “I think maybe you’re just trying to punish me.”
    “Don’t be silly, darling. Of course I’m trying to punish you. Bye now!”
    “Cole?” I said, but the line was already dead. “ Shit !” I yelled, flinging my phone across the room. It hit the wall with a clatter. The batteries came flying out, and there was an undeniable dent in my drywall now. Good thing it was my home phone and not my cell phone that was now lying in pieces on the floor.
    Why the hell had I ever decided to call?
    I drank some more wine. I flipped endlessly through the channels of crap on TV. Eventually, I went in the kitchen and raided my cabinets. Cole’s time cooking in my house had added a lot to my pantry, but it was nothing I could use. Lots of spices and oils, but nothing I could actually eat. I finally found a TV dinner in the back of the freezer. I put it in the microwave, but before I could turn it on, the doorbell rang.
    I crossed over to the door, kicking what remained of my phone across the room as I passed, just for good measure. I stopped with my hand on the knob to compose myself. I counted to five. I counted to five again. Then I opened it.
    It was Cole. He looked more unsure of himself than I had ever seen him. His cheeks were red with embarrassment, and he looked up at me through his bangs. “I think I’m done punishing you now,” he said. And the next thing I knew, he was all over me.
    He was breathless, his hands tearing at my clothes. He even let me kiss him, which he didn’t do often. He tasted like something sweet and fruity. His lips were soft and warm, the sweet smell of his hair so familiar, and whatever had happened, it was all forgotten in a moment.
    I couldn’t wait to get his clothes off of him.
    I pulled him over to the couch, and he pushed me backward so that I sat down on it. He got on his knees in front of me and started to undo my pants. It was exactly like him to go straight for what he wanted, but for the first time ever with him, I found myself wanting to slow things down. I wanted to pull him into my lap and kiss him more.
    I wanted to keep smelling that ridiculous shampoo. But as quickly as he could, he pulled my pants out of the way, and before I could object, his mouth was on me.
    It may not have been the best blowjob he had ever given me, but it was certainly the most enthusiastic. He had one hand around the base of my shaft, and the fingers of his other hand were digging into my thigh, painful yet undeniably erotic. His hair was silky-soft in my hands, his mouth was unbelievably warm, and the sounds he was making were enough to drive me wild. He was moving fast, moaning, almost whimpering, and I could tell he was so turned on I might not need to touch him at all.
    It had been nearly three weeks since I’d had anybody’s hands on me but my own, and needless to say, his mouth was infinitely better. It didn’t take me long at all, and my moans seemed to make him even more desperate. As soon as I was done, he stood up, fumbling at the buttons of his own pants. I knew if I had lasted only a little longer, he probably wouldn’t have made it even this far. I pushed his hands out of the way, tore them open, and pulled his erection free. I put only the tip in my mouth, thinking I would tease him for a moment, but he grabbed me by the back of the head and pushed himself deep into my mouth.
    Just one thrust, and he was already crying out with the force of his orgasm.
    He usually pulled away quickly. He usually had an off-hand comment to make as he disengaged himself from me. He would go into the bathroom, and when he came back out, we would be companions still but not lovers. This time was different. He had barely even finished when he pushed me back on the couch. Before I knew what was happening, he was in my lap and his arms were tight around my neck.
    I hadn’t thought