Hook, Line, and Sinker (Flirting with the Zodiac Book 1) Page 7
His eyes widened as Lawrence forced something else in him open. He almost convulsed around the sensation of it, pleasure tearing through him.
Lawrence froze. “What is …”
Ty glanced around, hoping to avoid Lawrence’s gaze. “You’re … in me,” he said, aware he sounded absolutely brainless.
Lawrence grunted. “You’re … really tight here, are you—”
Ty nodded, fumbling for his words. “You … you’re in deep,” he offered, trying to keep his brain functioning, but all he was thinking about was that he needed to move his hips, get more of that cock through that ring of muscle, deeper into him, as deep as Lawrence could possibly go, as close as they could possibly be—
“Starfish? Are you okay?”
“You’re …” He gestured, then put a hand over his low belly, pressed. “Here, you’re here, inside.” He hissed, curled his toes. Just the idea of Lawrence being that deep in him was threatening to throw him over the edge.
“Is that … good? I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“Feels so fucking good,” Ty panted, clutched at the bedsheets, then gasped as Lawrence thrust deeper into him. “So good, fuck, Laz, yes. Harder. Deeper.”
Lawrence picked up his pace, their hips bouncing rhythmically together. “Fishy, I don’t know if I can go deeper—”
That didn’t matter—possible and impossible were bleeding together. “Fuck, Lawrence, you’re so deep.”
“You like it, Ty?”
“Love it,” Ty groaned, “love it, love having your cock in my pouch, in—ah, Laz, fuck me harder.”
“Tell me how you feel—scream for me, c’mon, tell me how much you like it.”
Lawrence grabbed a fistful of Ty’s hair and pulled. “Gonna fuck you,” he growled, “gonna fuck you so deep, Ty, can you feel me?”
“Yes, Laz, stop screwing around and—fuck. Yes, fuck, oh Lawrence.”
Lawrence grabbed his hips, dragged him in. Ty swore his eyes crossed. He clutched at Lawrence’s forearms, clawed at them until they were red and angry, and Ty sobbed as Lawrence pushed him toward the edge, closer and closer with each thrust.
Ty stilled, stared at the flush across Lawrence’s cheeks, how his eyes had turned such a dusky blue. Then he bit at his lip, and Ty choked on his words before finally gasping, “Please, fill me up.”
“Oh, fuck.” Lawrence’s eyes went wide; his fingers dug deep into Ty’s hips, pressing bruises there, like a brand. He stilled, and Ty could practically feel him pulsing away inside him.
“Yes,” he whimpered.
Lawrence’s breath was scarce; his voice was ragged when he whispered, “Gonna … fill you right up, pump you right full.”
“Yes!” Ty wasn’t sure what part of him was reacting to this, but all he knew was that it felt right, and he wanted it.
Lawrence grabbed Ty’s cock and squeezed him, stroked him until he shattered, finally tumbling over the edge. Stars burst behind his eyes, and he clamped down on that sensation, senselessly rocking his hips to try and hold on to it forever.
It faded, the ebbing tide, the waning moon, and Ty collapsed against the mattress, heaving for breath. Lawrence’s hands landed on either side of his shoulders.
“Why the fuck have we never done this before?”
“We’re idiots,” Ty groaned, then slammed a hand against Lawrence’s chest as every sensation singing through him turned painful.
Lawrence withdrew hastily, and Ty almost screamed. He was dripping, a disgusting mess, and—
Lawrence hauled him into a sitting position, then to stand on his still-shaking legs. Then he scooped Ty up, draping the dark-haired man’s legs over his arm, cradling him close to his chest.
“Let’s get cleaned up,” he said softly, and Ty nuzzled against him.
They really were idiots.
***
Ty woke up, aching in several different ways. His legs hurt. His back hurt. Worst of all, he was aching between his legs and not just because he was sore. He pressed his cock against the mattress and rubbed.
While he was humping the bed like a dog in heat, he glanced around the room. Lawrence was curiously absent from their love nest—Ty tried to ignore the pile of sheets, the very messy towel that had been pitched aside. The shower wasn’t running, and the patio door was closed.
He frowned and sat up. “Laz?”
No answer. The room wasn’t that big, which meant that Lawrence had either strolled off somewhere—maybe on an early morning walk—or—
The door swung open, and Lawrence stepped in, carefully balancing two plates, and what seemed to be an entire carafe of coffee. “Morning,” he said as he kicked the door closed. “Ready for breakfast?”
“You realize we could have ordered room service, right?”
“Oh.” Lawrence blinked, then frowned. “Shut up, let me take care of you.” He pitched his phone aside, frowning at it.
Ty glared at the phone, then glanced at Lawrence as he settled the plates on the small table in the corner of the room. He looked pinched, almost angry. “You wanna eat in here or go outside on the patio?” His tone was off; he was trying for cheery, but something had upset him.
Probably his parents. Maybe his mother had called. Probably to harass him about something or other. Maybe that he’d gone to the moon for spring break instead of coming to visit. Ty flopped back against the pillows. Because fuck Lawrence’s family if he could ever do something he wanted, for himself.
Even this wasn’t truly for him.
Lawrence hovered over him, nuzzling their cheeks together, so Ty slung his arms around the other man’s neck and tried to topple him back into bed. Maybe he could fix two problems—the ache between his legs and Lawrence’s bad mood.
“Is that how it is?”
“You don’t always have to bring me food. You can take care of me in other ways,” Ty growled, pleased when Lawrence allowed him to wrestle his way to the top. He straddled the silver-haired man’s legs. Lawrence grinned deviously, ran a hand up the inside of Ty’s thigh.
“Is that so, fishy?”
Ty rocked his hips. “Mm.”
Lawrence’s fingers were already inside him. “What’s that saying? Happy spouse, happy house?”
“Pretty happy,” Ty murmured.
“Me too,” Lawrence replied. “I mean, kind of wish we’d gotten our heads out of our asses sooner.”
“What … do you mean by that?” Ty panted, rolling his hips against Lawrence’s fingers. God, the man had talented hands.
“I mean, we could have been fucking for seven years, Ty.”
Ty grinned ruefully. There was no way Lawrence actually meant that. Wasn’t like he’d thought of Ty as anything but a friend until a few weeks ago.
He knew better than to ruin the moment, though, so he said, “Nn, better make up for lost time then.”
“God, fishy,” Lawrence groaned, then tossed him onto his back and pressed him into the mattress.
“Don’t make me tell you twice.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Lawrence grinned as he rocked up against him, let Ty yank his pants back off. “Do you always change color?”
“Only when I’m turned on.”
“Fuck, all right then. That’s hot, Ty. Think you could blow me?”
Ty quirked a brow. “Really? With these teeth?”
Lawrence’s grin was almost manic. “Always thought it would be fun.”
“Later,” Ty admonished instead of paying attention to that fluttering feeling of hope in his chest. “You’re supposed to be balls deep in me, remember?”
“So demanding.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“Fuck no, love it. You’re hot when you’re bossing me around.”
“Shut up and fuck me then.”
“Sorry, what was that?” The bed hit the wall as Lawrence slammed into him, and Ty writhed around that sensation of opening fully and completely. “Can’t hear you over the sound of me drilling you into the bed.”
“Fuck!”
“Louder, tell me what you want.”
“More! Lawrence. More, more—”
Teeth on his neck, raking over sensitive skin, making him shudder with delight. “Careful what you wish for, gonna give you more than you can handle.”
“Yes, want it all, fuck, Laz, please—”
“Louder, fishy, tell the neighbors too.” A slap to his ass.
“Lawrence!”
“Gonna make you scream my name like that every night.”
Ty clawed at the sheets, gasped around the sensations burning up his spine as Lawrence thrust into him rhythmically. He lifted his legs higher, curled them around Lawrence, let him drive in even deeper, drew a groan out of Lawrence.
“Yes, so tight, so wet, you’re—”
“I’m gonna come,” Ty sobbed, turning his head into the pillow. Lawrence grabbed Ty’s cock, squeezed him hard.
“Do it then—come for me, Ty, please—”
Ty couldn’t help the animalistic cry that tore out of his throat as he clenched up, bore down on Lawrence, intending to keep him right there, buried inside him as he came apart at the seams—the only thing holding him together, anchoring him as he rode the waves of pleasure to completion.
Breakfast was more than cold by the time they remembered it.
Ten
Val met them at the spaceport on the eighth of March—Ty’s birthday. She lifted her brows at them both, a grin splitting her face in half, and Ty was worried he had come on his face or something, the way her eyes lit up. She clapped her hands, then crowed, “You two finally banged!”
Lawrence choked on the coffee he was sipping. Ty turned red up to his ears. “Valerie,” he hissed.
“Raoul is gonna be so excited to hear this—”
“Is this normal?” Lawrence asked. “For friends to be so invested in their other friends’ sex lives?”
“We need new friends,” Ty sighed.
Val sent her text. The grin evaporated from her face as she tucked her phone back in her pocket. “All right, now, seriously, we’re gonna be late for—oh my God, is that a wedding ring?!”
“Valerie!” Ty barked.
“You two went on vacation and eloped?!”
“Can you stop screaming about our marriage in the middle of the spaceport?!”
“You admitted it!” Her phone was back out. “Oh my god, Raoul—yes, I know I just texted you, but you’re not gonna believe this …”
Ty buried his face in his hands; Lawrence sipped his coffee, then dragged their luggage across the spaceport floor after their chatterbox friend, ignoring the weird looks they were getting.
***
“I can’t believe you two eloped,” was the first thing Ali said to them when they sat down for dinner at the burger joint.
“I can’t believe they fucked,” Val said, and Ty smacked her arm, earning himself a glare.
“I mean,” Raoul drawled, “is it really so unbelievable?”
“It’s taken them seven years,” Val ground out.
“Oh please,” Ty sneered, “we’re friends.”
“Sure,” Val huffed back. “You were making eyes at him when he was still the TA in that that astronomy course we took together.”
“I did no such thing.”
“What possessed you?” Raoul asked, ignoring their bickering. He folded his hands together. Then he looked at Lawrence. “Did you get any kind of prenup?”
“Uh,” Lawrence said, and Raoul’s face fell.
“You idiots,” he said. “I can’t believe you didn’t put a prenup in place. With your family, Lawrence? You’d have to know all about them, why they’re such a good idea.”
“I trust Ty,” Lawrence said simply.
“You just wanted us to pay you to draw up a contract,” Ty huffed, and Raoul glowered at him. “What? We’ve been friends for years.”
“Married is different than friends, Ty.”
“Is it?” Lawrence asked, and the table sobered, everyone falling silent for a moment. “I mean, it doesn’t seem much different so far.”
“It’s different,” Raoul insisted, plucking up his menu.
“All right, so here’s the big question,” Val said sharply. “When are you gonna have a party?”
“A … party?”
“Isn’t this a party?” Ty asked.
Val banged her hands on the table. “No, like a yay-we-ran-off-to-paradise-and-got-hitched party!”
“You mean a wedding,” Raoul said.
“We eloped to avoid a wedding, Val.”
“You still have to have a party! A reception!”
“What’s your mother gonna say?” Ali asked, elbowing Lawrence, who paled.
“Mr. Trafford Senior is gonna have a fit,” Raoul declared.
“I bet your Gran’s gonna be real disappointed, didn’t get to go to your wedding.”
Lawrence’s expression crumpled, and Ty glared at Val. How dare she. “I didn’t even think of that,” Lawrence whimpered. “They’re gonna be so upset.”
“It’s not that big of a deal—”
“We have to do something,” Lawrence said, fixing Ty with a look. “Gran’ll be upset otherwise.”
“Laz, we talked about this—”
“Oooooh,” said everyone else at the table. Ty glared at them.
“We didn’t want to do a party, because our parents—”
Lawrence shook his head. “We have to, I’m sorry, Ty. We absolutely have to do something.”
Ty huffed, rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he ground out.
“I’ll make it up to you,” Lawrence said quickly.
“In bed,” Val said, waggling her eyebrows, and Ty reached across the table, smacked her with the wooden fork he was holding.
***
The last thing Ty needed was to plan a wedding on top of everything else. His solo was a scant three weeks away now, he had a job interview lined up, and he had a doctor’s appointment on Friday, all while trying to avoid his own parents and yet still somehow work at their shop.
He didn’t want to invite them to a reception. He didn’t want to have a reception at all.
He’d taken a pregnancy test two days ago, because his cycle was late, but it had been negative. That was fine; Dr. K had said it might take some time for his body to reset after removing the ring. He was probably going through a cycle as his hormones tried to rebalance themselves.
About the only upside of all this was that there was a newfound freedom at home—sex was on the table (sometimes quite literally) almost every day of the week. Wednesday’s video game night had turned into sex on the couch, and Thursday night, they’d done it doggy-style so they could watch the basketball game.
Friday was reserved for D&D, but Ty had headed over to Val’s early to do some bullshit about invitations (colors, floral prints, and typefaces were not his thing). He was thinking about how long he hadn’t had a smoke, how much he wanted something.
Val offered him a joint at the door; he hesitated, then shook his head. She lifted a brow. “You checked out fine earlier this week,” she said as she led him back through the hallway, to her studio.
“I know,” he muttered. “I’ll blaze later. I haven’t had anything for a bit and don’t wanna get too blitzed.”
“Fine,” she muttered, and they sat down at the table to work on the invitations some more.
“I really just don’t wanna tell our parents,” he grumbled, pitching yet another floral accented design.
“Understandable,” Val said, pushing another card toward him. It was more tolerable—silly, almost, with a joke about “lovebirds.”
He didn’t think they were lovebirds. He pitched it.
Lawrence had been right when he’d said nothing had really changed—marriage didn’t seem to have done anything to their relationship.
“I mean, my parents are hippies of the highest order, and Lawrence’s are snobs.”
“Not the best combo.”
Ty sighed
, rubbed his temples. “Honestly, Lawrence was the one who said we should elope.”
Val tipped her head a little. “Well, you know how he is about family.”
Ty grunted. He did know. He knew that if Lawrence’s parents had their way, Ty and Lawrence would have never made it to an altar.
Lawrence knew that too, which was why he’d suggested eloping. So Ty didn’t see why they had to make a big fuss now. It was just going to cause a fight Lawrence didn’t even want to have.
“We could just do something for Myrtle,” he muttered. “Not like anyone else would actually be happy for us.”
Val gave him a curious look.
He sighed in frustration and tossed all of the cards to the floor. “These are all shit.”
“Excuse me,” Val huffed instead of needling him more. “I tried picking something you might like, but there really isn’t much for nerds and stoners.”
“Not even for two guys?”
Val scoffed, and Ty shook his head, crossed his arms. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I dunno, I’ve just been in a bad mood. Stressed, I guess. With the solo and the interview, and now this bullshit …”
Val grabbed up some of the cards from the floor. “Don’t take it out on me,” she chided, and he sighed again. “Go set up the table, it’s almost six.”
Regret slunk into the pit of Ty’s stomach; they were supposed to have this done by now. They were supposed to be inviting everyone for a shindig in May, which meant he had to give people time to rsvp, which meant he needed to get invitations in the mail yesterday.
He headed into the living room to set up the table for their weekly gaming session anyway.
Maybe they could delay the reception …
The doorbell rang; the door squealed open and Lawrence marched in, followed by Raoul. “Hey!” Raoul called. “We got Indian.”
“Awesome!” Val cried, and Ty drifted out of the living room to greet them in the front hall.
The door slammed shut, and Val grabbed the bags as Lawrence and Raoul pulled off their coats and shoes. Despite being the middle of March, the weather was still snowy and cold. Ty followed her into the kitchen, grabbed one of the bags and ripped it open.