It took Zack all of two seconds to decide he wasn’t going to stop seeing John. He’d understood the risks from the start. It wouldn’t be fair to cut ties with John after everything they’d gone through to get here. Besides, there was nothing Colette could do to prove Zack was breaking the rules.
At least, Zack hoped there wasn’t.
He spent the rest of the workday trying to ignore the dread in his gut. It was like a cold ball of steel had nestled in the pit of his stomach. Alexa stopped by his desk on her break, but when she received nothing but distracted grunts from him, she left him alone. A twinge of guilt compacted Zack’s already tumultuous feelings.
As if on cue, Zack’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Kira. He read it with a smile. She asked how he was just casually enough to let him know two things: Alexa had told her something was up, and he was lucky enough to have friends who cared about him no matter how much of a moody brat he was being.
If things went sour, at least he knew they had his back.
Still, Zack couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being too cavalier about this. Murmur Inc. was his main source of income. Losing his job would be financially devastating. He might even have to move back in with his parents.
How long could Zack hope to hide his relationship with John? He didn’t talk to most of his coworkers, but if Colette had noticed something was up . . . Zack had seen enough prime-time TV to know that secrets always got out eventually, and the tighter you locked them up, the more explosively they burst from their cage. Zack had thought he’d prepared himself for that before he agreed to date John, but thinking about something and being faced with the reality of it were very different things.
Zack needed to answer one simple but crucial question: was John worth risking his livelihood for?
His brain failed to supply an easy answer, but a small voice coming from his chest—his heart or maybe his soul—said the risk was nothing compared to what he stood to gain.
He got off work shortly before two in the morning. He made the commute home mindlessly, and when he entered his apartment, even Ziggy wasn’t awake to greet him.
If Zack were smart, he’d go to bed and sleep off his anxiety. Everything would probably seem clearer in the morning.
He stood motionless in the middle of his living room. He debated with himself for a full minute before he tossed his keys onto the table, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. His background was still a picture of John making a silly face at an onion ring on the Santa Monica Pier.
That was all he needed to see to finalize his decision. He scrolled to John’s name in his contacts and hit Call.
To Zack’s surprise, the line clicked after just the second ring.
“Zack,” John greeted him, sounding pleased.
“Hey,” he answered automatically. He’d expected John to sound groggy, but his voice was clear. “What are you doing still up?”
“I’m a law student. When do you think we sleep? At night?”
Zack snorted. “Fair point. I wasn’t expecting you to answer, I guess.” He hesitated. Now that he had John on the phone, he had no idea what to say.
John waited for a few seconds and then said, “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He faltered again, which did nothing to strengthen his case.
“Something’s wrong.” It wasn’t a question. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” Zack insisted. “Nothing like that. I just . . . wanted to hear your voice.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Really, there’s nothing to talk about. I just had a long day.”
There was a pause. “Do you want me to come get you?”
Zack’s heart swelled at the idea, but then it deflated.
“No, no,” Zack said, “I can’t leave Ziggy again. I’m already in the running for Worst Father of the Year.”
“I can have you back early in the morning. Ziggy won’t even know you’re gone.”
Zack stopped to consider it, and that seemed to egg John on.
“Better yet, I’ll come to you. Then you won’t have to worry.”
“You don’t have to—”
John had already hung up.
A mixture of excitement and apprehension crackled through Zack. It baffled him that John could still make him feel this way. He wondered if it would ever go away, and more importantly, if he wanted it to.
Zack looked around his apartment. His jacket was strewn on the floor, there were empty beer bottles on his coffee table, and he’d never before been more acutely aware of his faded, peeling wallpaper.
He hastened to clean up, though he knew there wasn’t enough bleach in the world to make his apartment look presentable. He got everything put away and flopped on the couch, attempting to look casual. There was no fooling his pulse, however.
He’d never imagined that the thought of seeing someone could get him so excited. And it wasn’t just the idea of potentially getting laid either. He couldn’t wait to look at John’s face and reacquaint himself with every rivulet of green in his blue eyes.
In what felt like no time at all, there was a knock at the door. Zack flew off the couch in a manner reminiscent of Peter Pan. He flung open the front door, and all his thoughts fell silent.
John was standing on the other side with his hands in his pockets, making jeans and a T-shirt look like a fashion statement.
“Hi,” John said, flashing a bright smile. “May I come in?”
“You’d better,” Zack muttered, dragging him into a kiss. John kissed back with enthusiasm, shuffling forward into the apartment. John fumbled with the door and slammed it behind him. Then he shoved Zack roughly against it. Zack’s cock filled with blood so quickly, it made him light-headed.
John skimmed his lips up Zack’s jawline and nibbled on his earlobe. “I love seeing you splayed out like this, so turned on you can barely stand.”
Zack groaned. “Fuck, I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” John pushed off the wall, breaking their body contact, and Zack almost wailed.
John grinned in a way Zack could only describe as evil and asked, “So, do you want to talk about what was bothering you earlier?”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Zack growled. He grabbed John by the shoulders and pushed him back. “You are the worst tease on the planet, always getting me hard and then trying to have a serious conversation. Not this time.” Zack shoved him until the backs of his knees hit the couch, sending him toppling into a sitting position. Zack didn’t give him even a second to recover. He climbed onto him, straddling his hips, and pressed their mouths hotly together. John moaned, and the vibrations made Zack’s lips tingle.
Zack broke the kiss long enough to say, “If you don’t want to fuck, tell me now.” He leaned down so he could suck on John’s neck. “We can talk if you really want to.”
“No, I was just being a dick before,” John gasped, craning his head back so Zack could reach more of his skin. “I want to. God, I want to.”
“Are you sure?” Zack swirled his tongue around John’s Adam’s apple before nibbling on it. The noise John made in response was divine. “Because I can be a tease too, if that’s how you want to play it.”
“Please don’t,” John begged. “I’m so hard, I couldn’t take it. Here, feel.”
John grabbed his hand and dragged it over the growing bulge in his jeans, rolling his hips up so it fit perfectly into Zack’s palm. Zack swallowed, and his vision blurred as arousal buzzed through him.
“Please,” John whispered again. He pressed Zack’s hand down harder and rubbed himself against it. “Touch me.”
There was no way Zack could have said no. His jeans felt like a prison sentence. He rocked his hips against John’s and hissed at the harsh friction.
“Christ,” John panted, “can you—can we—”
“Yeah,” Zack agreed shakily. “Just let me . . .” He fumbled with their flies. Through some small miracle, he managed to get them open and pulled out John’s erection first.
John jerked like he’d been electrocuted, but he moaned beautifully. His voice was honeyed and languorous. He opened his eyes and looked at Zack with pupils that had completely overtaken his irises. Zack stared at his flushed face, too mesmerized to realize John had shoved a hand into his pants until he felt fingers curling around his dick. Zack bit back a groan of pleasure. His attention narrowed to his groin and the feel of John’s hand pulling him out of his underwear.
“Where should we do this?” John asked. His fist pumped Zack in time to his words. It was agonizing and wonderful. “Your room?”
“Fuck, no, I can’t move,” Zack gasped. He gripped John’s shoulders tightly as John continued to fist his cock. Zack felt like anything could set him off right now: a word, a touch, a light breeze. But he wasn’t ready to come yet. “It’s not enough. I want . . . I want to . . .” He made a frustrated sound, unable to vocalize what his body was craving.
John’s hand left his cock, and Zack almost sobbed with a mixture of relief and misery. John shifted his hips, strong thigh muscles flexing in a way that was so hot it hurt, until he could slide his hand into his right pocket. He pulled out a condom and a packet of lube.
He held them up in front of Zack’s face and all but growled, “Ride me.”
And suddenly, Zack knew exactly what it was that he’d been wanting this whole time. Desire for the man in front of him infused his entire body.
Zack licked his lips. “I love how prepared you are.”
He snatched the condom and lube from John and practically ripped off his clothes. John scrambled to do the same. When they were naked, Zack settled in John’s lap, aligning their erections. As soon as their skin touched, John’s eyes fluttered closed, and his lips parted.
Zack paused long enough to kiss him deeply before pressing the condom into his hand. “Put this on while I get ready.”
Zack ripped the lube open and smeared the contents onto his right fingers. Then he reached behind and slid one finger in. Luckily, he was too turned on to be tense; opening himself was easy. He had the added bonus of John watching him hungrily to spur him on. He made certain to moan every time his finger brushed his prostate, just so he could see the tormented face John made. It was clear John was caught between his desire not to hurt Zack and his desire to fuck him senseless.
Zack couldn’t help drawing it out a little. He added a second finger and fucked himself slowly, drawing up only to shove back down. John gripped his thighs with white-knuckled fingers.
“Are you ready?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Christ, I can’t take this much longer. Watching you move like that is torture.”
Much as Zack was enjoying the teasing, his fingers just weren’t cutting it anymore. He needed to feel John’s cock fill him up. He removed his fingers and sat up on his knees so John could shimmy into the right position. Then Zack grabbed John’s cock and positioned it at his entrance.
John told him to go slow, but Zack was having none of it. He sank onto John in one fluid motion, not stopping until he was fully seated. They grunted in unison. Zack’s hips jerked of their own accord, and John’s cock seemed to touch all of him at once. Zack sucked in a breath. He loved this, feeling like he was so full he could burst. He loved topping as well, but he could never do it all the time. He needed this like he needed air.
John stroked his sides and murmured soothingly to him. Zack grabbed John’s shoulders for balance and then started grinding in his lap, reveling in the feeling of his cock moving inside him. John flung his head back and moaned. His fingers settled on Zack’s hips, urging him on.
Zack kept his rhythm slow at first, but when the friction began to build within him, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He rocked in a steady rhythm. He shifted until he found an angle that made John’s cock brush against his prostate, and then he started moving in earnest, fucking himself desperately.
John thrust in time with him, shoving himself deeper into Zack’s body. It was heaven. Zack knew it was a cliché, but he’d honestly never felt so complete before.
“Oh fuck, yes,” Zack moaned. He could feel sweat beading on his chest and hear the hitch in John’s breathing every time Zack moved. Zack hadn’t known sex could feel so vibrant and intense. He wasn’t going to last long, not with the onslaught of sensory information pounding into him.
Tension began to coil low in his belly. “I’m getting close,” he gasped.
He opened his eyes just as John did the same. Zack had to bite his lip to keep from being overwhelmed by the intensity of John’s gaze. John looked wrecked, but somehow he managed to wrap his hand around Zack’s cock. Zack cried out from the dual stimulation. His entire body trembled with the force of it.
Zack angled his hips so every thrust made sparks skitter up his spine. His own dick was leaking pre-come, as evidenced by the slick slide of John’s hand up the shaft. Zack tried to hold out—he had no idea how close John was—but in a dozen more pumps, the combination became too much to resist. Zack thrust down hard on John’s cock and stilled. His orgasm tore through him, paralyzing him even as he coated John’s bare chest with semen. John stroked him through it, somehow knowing exactly when to stop before pleasure turned to pain.
Zack went limp, leaning forward to press his forehead against John’s. John trailed his fingers down his back in a soothing way. After a minute, he shifted, which made Zack acutely aware of the fact that John’s dick was still hard in his ass.
John kissed his temple. “Do you mind?”
Zack only had enough energy to shake his head.
John easily lifted Zack’s limp body—if Zack hadn’t just come, that would have been hot enough to make him hard—and laid him faceup on the sofa. Zack did his best to be accommodating, but as fucked out as he was, it was all he could do to move his limbs out of the way.
John slid back into him. Zack hissed, more out of oversensitivity than pain. John moved slowly, giving him time to readjust to the sensation of stretching and fullness. Once he was seated, he set a gentle but relentless rhythm of short, quick thrusts. Zack knew what he was doing: he was focusing the majority of the sensation of the sensitive head of his penis. He was trying to get off as quickly as possible, undoubtedly for Zack’s sake.
Zack almost wished he wouldn’t. This was the first chance he’d gotten to watch John during sex when he wasn’t too caught up in it himself. John’s eyes were closed, and his mouth was slack. His brow was furrowed with concentration. Zack lifted his hips to a better angle and watched John’s expression warp to one of ecstasy.
John leaned down and found Zack’s mouth, smearing their lips together in what could only loosely be defined as a kiss. Zack didn’t mind. He could tell from John’s erratic rhythm that he was getting close. John accidentally hit Zack’s prostate dead-on, and Zack spasmed involuntarily.
“Sorry,” John mumbled, half-incoherent.
Zack shushed him and kissed his face, tongue darting out to taste his sweat. God, everything John did was endearing. Even when he was just trying to get off, he was still the most considerate person Zack had ever known. A strange feeling swelled in Zack, starting low in his belly and bubbling up into his chest. He couldn’t say what it was, but it comforted him.
“Close,” John moaned brokenly. “So close. Can you—”
Zack knew just what to say. “John, I can’t wait to watch you come. I love the look on your face almost as much as I love your cock.”
John thrust into him once more and cried out.
“That’s it,” Zack murmured, too caught up in the moment to think about what he was saying. “God, John, I love you.”
John’s eyes snapped open. Orgasm racked his body. When the final spasms of pleasure faded, he collapsed, breathing heavily against Zack’s neck.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Zack’s face turned bright red. At first, his thoughts were utterly silent, but then a small gasp of horror in the back of his mind crescendoed into a chorus of No, no, no!
John, to his credit, recovered quickly. When he lifted himself, Zack noticed with abject horror that he looked calm. He might even have thought Zack meant to say that.
As Zack struggled with words, John’s expression shifted from calm to affection. Oh God, what if he said it back?
John leaned forward and kissed Zack so tenderly, it made him want to scream.
“Zack,” he began, “I—”
“Don’t say anything,” Zack interrupted.
John looked surprised, but he stopped talking.
“I didn’t know what I was saying just then,” Zack bleated. “Can we forget about it? I was caught up in the moment.” The lie was sour on his tongue.
If John was disappointed or relieved, it didn’t show on his face.
“Okay,” he said simply. Then he held the base of the condom and pulled out of Zack. Zack squirmed but didn’t complain.
“Trash can’s in the kitchen,” he said. He reached for his jeans and started dressing. He felt acutely vulnerable, and nakedness was not helping. John got up and went into the kitchen. Zack avoided looking at him.
He was aware of John hovering near him, still naked. He steeled himself and looked up. John was eyeing him with a neutral expression. Later, when things were less awkward, Zack was going to have to ask him if he’d ever considered playing poker.
“Do you want me to leave?” John asked.
Zack’s heart felt like something with claws had grabbed it and started ripping. He almost said yes, but he thought better of it. This wasn’t John’s fault.
“No, please stay. You haven’t seen the rest of my beautiful apartment.”
John laughed, and some of the tension eased. Zack took his hand and led him down the hallway to the bedroom. Ziggy was asleep on the comforter, but when Zack turned on the light, he perked up.
“Is this Ziggy?” John asked.
“No, this is his secretary,” Zack said. “You have to make an appointment if you want to see the Big Dog.”
John laughed again, and Ziggy cocked his head. He barked in greeting, but John looked uncertain.
“Oh right,” Zack said, “you probably don’t speak dog. He said hello.”
“Ah, I see. Do you speak all dogs or just this dog?”
“This dog,” Zack said, “but I dabble in some bird and cat as well.”
John held out an open palm. Ziggy sniffed it curiously and then gave it an enthusiastic lick.
“That means ‘Pet me now,’” Zack said.
John did, and Ziggy wagged his tail so hard, Zack thought it might injure someone. Ziggy rolled over onto his back. John didn’t need Zack to translate that not-so-subtle maneuver. He scratched Ziggy’s belly until the dog was liquid with happiness.
“He’s adorable,” John said.
“Well, he takes after his father.” Zack flashed a cheeky grin and then moved to his bureau. “Want to borrow something to sleep in?”
“I’ll be fine in just boxers, if it’s cool with you.”
Zack snickered. “No, that would be improper. I want you fully clothed. Also, you have to sleep on the floor.”
They climbed into bed, while Ziggy attempted to lick them to death. Zack turned off the light, plugged in his phone, and settled into the pillows. He tried to keep some distance from John, but John wouldn’t allow it, slinging a muscular arm around Zack’s waist and pulling him close. He kissed Zack on the temple. Icy guilt trickled through Zack as he kissed him back.
“So,” John murmured against his lips, “since I’m not allowed to talk about the other thing, tell me about your day.”
Zack flinched. He’d been dreading this conversation, and now it seemed it was going to happen in the wake of the worst fiasco yet. “Aren’t you tired? I get that law students keep fairly irregular hours, but it’s three in the morning, and we just had sex.”
John nuzzled into his neck. “Sorry, but I see your deflection and raise you one answer.”
Zack’s poker theory was looking more and more likely. He sighed. “Work was fine. Obviously I lost my best client, but I still have some regulars.”
“Did anyone want anything interesting today?”
Zack peered at John. His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark yet, but from what he could see, John seemed relaxed. That was the opposite of how most of his lovers seemed when Zack talked about his job.
“Uh, no,” Zack said haltingly, “it was all pretty standard. Dirty talk and being asked if I’m a naughty boy. The usual.” He braced himself.
“Hm,” John hummed. “Sounds tedious. But then I suppose most jobs are.” John adjusted his position so he was closer to Zack. After a moment, Zack heard steady breathing.
Zack sat straight up in bed, causing the man next to him to startle. “What the hell, John?”
“What’s wrong?” John asked, bewildered.
“Nothing,” Zack replied. “That’s why I’m freaking out right now.”
Ziggy made a whining noise from his place at the foot of the bed. Zack mentally agreed.
John propped himself up on his elbows. “Wait, what?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me to quit?” Zack asked incredulously. “We’re sleeping together. I spend all day having phone sex with strange men. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“I was one of those strange men, thank you very much,” John said. “If it weren’t for your job, we never would have met.”
“Yeah, I know, but you’re missing the point. I’m a sex worker. I talk dirty to men who aren’t you every day. Sometimes it turns me on. Are you really telling me you’re okay with that? I’m sorry, I’m just struggling to understand. This is usually the part where the guys I’m seeing demand I quit, and then things get awkward.”
“Look,” John said bluntly, “your job is your job, okay? It’s not who you are. And I very much doubt another attractive trust-fund brat is going to come along and sweep you off your feet. Besides, I can’t imagine you allowing a guy to dictate where you work, even if you are dating him. That’s not the Zack Hall I know.” John leaned over, kissed him, and settled back into bed. “Now go to sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
Ziggy made a small sound that could be construed as agreement.
Zack remained upright for another few seconds before he lay back down. He spent the drowsy interim between wakefulness and sleep wondering if falling in love could really be so simple.