Where The Heart Is: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations story

devouring him with his eyes and start using that gorgeous mouth instead.
Holding Sommer’s gaze, Dean cupped his balls in one hand and grasped his stiff shaft with the other. “You want to watch me jerk off?”
Sommer blinked and started, as if coming out of a trance. “No. I just wanted to look at you for a minute.”
“Well, the way you’re looking at me is about to make me come.” Wetting the pad of one thumb in his mouth, Dean pressed it to the tip of his cock. He rubbed slow, tight circles against the tiny opening, sending electric shocks through his body. A rough moan tore from his throat. “C’mon, get over here.”
Dean hadn’t finished speaking before Sommer was suddenly there, batting his hands away and nuzzling between his legs. The speed with which the man moved was shocking. Soft lips closed over the head of Dean’s prick, slick tongue penetrating the slit, and he let out a sharp cry. His hands dug into Sommer’s hair. The strands felt cool and silky between his fingers. Sommer hummed and sucked Dean’s cock deep into his throat.
The squeal that emerged from Dean was far from dignified, but he didn’t care. Right then, nothing existed apart from Sommer’s warm, wet mouth on his cock, Sommer’s elegant hands kneading the insides of his thighs. Moaning, Dean hooked both hands behind his knees and pulled his legs up and apart, giving Sommer more room to play.
Sommer allowed Dean’s prick to slide out of his mouth, moved up and planted a moist kiss on Dean’s belly. Before Dean could summon the presence of mind to protest, Sommer reached up and traced his lips with his fingertips.
“Suck my fingers,” Sommer commanded, the right corner of his mouth lifting in a smile which managed to be sexy and innocent at the same time. “Get them good and wet, so I can get you ready to fuck.”
As often as he bottomed, Dean no longer needed much preparation. But if Sommer wanted to finger his ass, who was he to argue? Holding Sommer’s gaze, he parted his lips and let Sommer slide two fingers inside. The long, fine-boned digits tasted of something faintly spicy. Dean’s questing tongue found a callous on the first knuckle of Sommer’s index finger. He gave it a slow lick, enjoying the roughness against his tongue.
Once Dean had coated Sommer’s fingers with saliva, Sommer pulled them out of Dean’s mouth and slid them between his buttocks. “Keep yourself spread open for me,” Sommer whispered, rubbing one dripping fingertip against Dean’s hole. “You’re beautiful like this.”
It wasn’t the first time Dean had heard those words, or similar ones. He was a very attractive man, and he knew it. Lots of men and women had told him so. It was nice to hear, of course, but nothing new for him. Yet for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint, hearing Sommer call him beautiful sent his spirit soaring. Maybe because for the first time, the compliment seemed not only sincere, but without expectation. Something told him Sommer wouldn’t expect anything more from him than he was willing to give, unlike many lovers Dean had been with over the years.
Not that he could currently think of anything he didn’t want to give Sommer.
The feel of a finger pressing inside him shattered Dean’s half-formed musings. “Oooooh, oh God,” he groaned, hips canting upward. “More.”
Sommer obliged by pushing another finger into Dean’s ass. He leaned down and bit the place where the tendon on the inside of Dean’s thigh strained tight. Dean yelped. He twisted his head enough to see Sommer’s face. Sommer gave him a sinful smile, and licked the spot he’d just bitten. The bright moonlight revealed two dark semicircles glistening with saliva on Dean’s skin. That’s gonna bruise. He grinned, already picturing the purple marks he’d have the next day.
Inside him, Sommer’s fingers crooked to brush the sweet spot. Dean let out a wail. “God, fuck me!”
Sommer rubbed his cheek against Dean’s calf and twisted his fingers in Dean’s hole, drawing another sharp cry from him. “You’re awfully impatient,” Sommer observed. He wrapped his free hand around Dean’s cock and squeezed. “I’d rather not rush, if that’s okay with you.”
With a mighty effort, Dean managed to get out several nearly coherent sentences. “I can get it up again, just… Come, gotta… Too hot, you’re… What you’re doing… I, I can’t, I need… Fuck, just fucking get me off!”
To Dean’s supreme annoyance, Sommer laughed. Not