Second Hand: A Tucker Springs Novel 2

simply assuring Paul this was a journey, that he should take his time. He wanted to reassure Paul and emphasize that he shouldn’t let anyone rush him, not even El.
When he came into the bedroom after setting MoJo up with some water and her favorite toys in the kitchen, though, one look at his lover on the edge of the bed, shoes off and bare toes curling around each other protectively as he hunched his shoulders, his eyes radiating the now-heady cocktail of want and terror and naked lust, El found he couldn’t say anything at all. He simply tugged his T-shirt over his head, kicked off his shoes, and reached for his fly.
He loved the way Paul’s gaze raked him, greedily taking in every inch of flesh as it appeared. Paul’s hands echoed the path of the denim, fingers ghosting over El’s flesh as Paul’s lusty gaze burned. “Your skin is amazing. It’s like the color of coffee with just the right amount of cream.”
El smiled and let his own hands sink into that beautiful red-brown hair. “And you’re Snow White, perfect porcelain skin. Except for where you have those adorable freckles. Then of course there’s this delicious strawberry hair.”
Normally that would have made Paul blush, but he seemed too fixated on El’s abdomen. His lips parted, his tongue stealing out to wet them. “I just want to lick you,” he whispered.
Inside his briefs, El’s cock twitched with a surge of arousal. “Go right ahead.”
Paul’s gaze, drunk with lust instead of rum, lifted to El’s. For long moments they regarded each other, El daring, Paul . . . well, El didn’t know what Paul was doing.
Paul’s pink tongue darted out and traced a circle around El’s belly button. Their eyes stayed locked the entire time.
It took everything El had, though, to keep his stomach muscles from flexing, to keep from grabbing Paul’s head and pulling him close, to not groan and drag Paul’s head to his nipples or his cock and beg him to suck. It was delicious torture, watching Paul explore and being the terrain on which he did so.
When the licks turned to nips and cool fingers tugged the elastic of El’s briefs down, freeing his fully erect cock, he shuddered, tightened his grip on Paul’s hair, and held on as Paul took his cock firmly in hand.
When El found himself longing to guide Paul’s greedy fingers around to the back, he drew away with a kiss, padded naked to the bag he’d brought over and left by the closet, and came back with a tube of lube, which he handed to Paul. “Use it if you want to,” he said, directing Paul’s hand to the crack of his own ass, which had begun to ache with yearning for what he hoped was coming.
“You—you’d let embarrassed, but he had lust in his gaze.
“Fuck me? Yeah.” El pressed Paul’s fingers directly against his hole. “Let you? I’ll beg you, if you want.”
When Paul’s grip pulled El open, something deep, deep inside him let go, let want and desire flood through his whole body. Paul, oblivious to this, stared at El’s eager cock as his fingers played tentatively at El’s ass. “I thought . . . I figured— well, that you’d want to do me again.”
“Oh, I do. Believe me. But I’d love this too.” The fingers at his back door got braver, knocking his cock against Paul’s neck. “That’s the fun of gay sex, you know. Everybody gets to try everything, if they want to.”
The fingers exploring El faltered, and Paul ducked his head. “Sorry. I’m still . . .”
“Getting used to hearing the word gay attached to you and the sex you might have?” When Paul flinched, El stroked his hair. He should have brought up the bi possibility, but he could only manage, “It’s okay, baby. I understand.” me—” Paul trailed off, clearly
“It’s all so new still,” Paul whispered. His fingers weren’t moving at all now. None of him was, except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he drew nervous breaths. “It feels like a dream, like I’ll wake up.”
God, yes. “It’s okay.”
“I want this.” Paul gripped El’s cheeks. “I do. But I don’t want—well, what if this is a dream? I mean, what if I’m not? What if I’m . . . curious, or whatever?”
“It’s okay.” That reassurance was a lie, but El made himself say it anyway. It wasn’t okay, but he’d have to find a way to make it that way. Sliding his hands to Paul’s face, El tipped his lover’s mouth up for a long, slow kiss. By the end of it, he had Paul on his back while he fumbled with the