LOVE IS A JOURNEY…NOT A DESTINATION.
It only took two sharp raps to get Jack on his feet and striding across the room. He unlocked the door and yanked it open.
“Do you know how many hotels I had to call before I found this one?” Aaron slurred as he pushed past Jack into the room. “And I had to flirt with the girl at the front desk to figure out what room you were in. I’m not equipped to deal with flirting with girls, Jack. It’s just…wrong.”
“What are you doing here, Aaron?” Jack wrinkled his nose against the strong beer smell, shutting the door before crossing to the desk, with the intent to ring the front desk about a cab for the drunken idiot.
“I’m here for the sex, Jack. The ssssseeeeexx.” Aaron flopped back, arms spread, onto the mattress. “Though, I don’t know if it’s angry sex or make-up sex.
Honestly, it’s hard to keep up with you and this…whatever it is between us.” He lifted his head slightly as his confused frown morphed into a cheeky grin. “Fuck, I don’t care. Both are acceptable. Come on, then, time for the sex.”
“Drunk sex, it is!” He sat up quickly and yanked off his t-shirt, tossing it onto the floor. Then, rising to his feet, he fumbled with his belt as he toed off his trainers.
Jack stepped forward then stopped, because all he really wanted to do was dip his head and press his mouth to Aaron’s chest, map the ridges, slide his tongue along every tempting line of the man’s body. And that was not going to happen. Not until they talked shit out. And clearly, that wasn’t going to be happening tonight, either.
“Aaron,” he snapped, hands fisted at his side as he fought the urge to touch. “Put your fucking clothes back on.”
Aaron lifted his head, having ducked down to look at the belt that was apparently giving him problems. His brow was furrowed as he ran his gaze over Jack from head to toes.
“You get your fucking clothes back off,” he retorted, returning his attention to the buckle.
Shaking his head, amusement bleeding through the annoyance, Jack closed the space between them and plucked the shirt off the floor. After quickly pulling it over Aaron’s head, he tried to take hold of the other man’s wrist, determined to get him dressed even if he had to resort to treating him like a child.
And child was the appropriate word, he thought as Aaron smacked Jack’s hand and angled his body away.
“Stop it,” he said petulantly. “We’re going to do the sex, Jack. We’re going to, because all the other stuff is too fucking— Yes! Finally!” he crowed as he got the belt undone and slid it from the loops. “Motherfucking belts.”
Jack reached around and grabbed Aaron’s hands as he was shoving down his pants, halting his movements.
“Just stop.” He cringed at the pleading tone, but damn it, he couldn’t deal with it if Aaron dropped trou. Well, he would, but fuck it all, he didn’t want to. Not tonight. “It’s not going to happen, you fucking wanker.”
Aaron didn’t fight the firm hold, and for a brief moment, Jack thought he’d won. He really should have known better. Aaron suddenly shifted, pressing against Jack’s front, rolling his hips to grind his arse against Jack’s cock.
“You could fuck me,” he murmured. “It’s been a while since we’ve done that. Such a good little cockslut so eager for me to be inside you, pounding into your ass and making you go crazy.” He pushed back and groaned. “But maybe you’d like a change? Maybe you’d like to hold me down and fuck me good and proper.”
“Aaron, please.” Jack’s cock jerked against Aaron’s arse, traitorous bastard it was.
“Hmmm, I suppose you holding me down isn’t what gets you going though, is it? Nah, maybe I’ll hold you down—because you love that, love my hands heavy and firm on you—and ride you, nice and slow, until you forget everything but the way I feel around you. And it would feel so good, pet. It hasn’t been so long that you don’t remember, has it?”
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, which was a huge mistake, because beneath the scent of beer clinging to the man, Jack could smell him. He couldn’t describe it exactly, but he’d know it anywhere, and longed to bury his face in Aaron’s neck and other warm, hidden places where the scent would be stronger, overwhelming, intoxicating.
“You can’t do this,” he muttered. “You can’t come here, drunk, wanting to— Damn it, Aaron, it’s hard enough.”
Aaron pulled his hands free and reached back to grasp Jack’s arse, fingers flexing bruisingly. Jack had to bite back the whimper that rose in his throat but couldn’t stop the way his hips jerked forward.
“Oh, it’s hard enough.” Chuckling, Aaron dropped his head back onto Jack’s shoulder and pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss on his jaw. “Want you to fuck me, make me feel you for days.”
Clenching his jaw, Jack held him by the waist and stepped back, only releasing him when Aaron was steady on his feet. “I already told you, it’s not happening. Even with a few drinks in you, you know the fucking meaning of ‘no’.”
He turned slowly, still a tad unsteady. “Seriously? You’re that pissed off?” He shook his head and moved to sit on the bed, shoving his hands through his hair. “Christ, Jack, what did you want me to do? This isn’t easy for me, you know? And, as awesome as my family is, this is going to hurt them. No matter how I do it—and I’m sure as hell not going to do it when my sister is getting married in a few days.”
Jack was almost disappointed to see and hear him sobering up. Almost. Maybe, now, it’d be easier to get him the hell out of here.
“We’re not talking about this. Not when you’re in this state.”
He threw his hands in the air then let them fall, his palms slapping against his thighs. “We’re not having the talk, we’re not having the sex. What the hell is on the table for tonight, then, Jack?”