Unworthy Of Love (BXB)

40. Teach Me How

I'm pretending to be asleep on my mattress when Raven comes out of the bathroom. I can hear his light steps across the room, then the bed creaks as he sits down on it. For a few seconds, it's completely quiet.

"Come on," he says. "I know you're awake."

I roll my eyes without opening them. "How can you tell?"

"You breathe differently when you sleep."

"Differently how?"

"You snore."

My eyes fly open. "What?"

I sit up and glare at him. He watches me from the bed, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"You snore," he repeats. "I don't mind. Come here." He pats the blanket by his side.

"We're not sharing a bed." I shake my head. "And I don't snore."

"You're wrong on both accounts." He tilts his head, examining me, then slips off the bed and crawls over to me. He sits down on the mattress by my side, crossing his legs. His proximity makes me nervous.

"No." I point at the bed. "Raven, no. Go back to your place."

He snorts. "What am I, a dog?"

He's wearing my sweatpants I gave him to use as pajamas, and his hair, still damp from the shower, leaves wet marks on his white cotton T-shirt. His face is so close in the dark, his eyes staring calmly into mine in a way that's both unsettling and intimate.

I let out a nervous chuckle. "What do you think you're doing?"

"This." He leans forward, cups my cheeks and brings his lips to mine.

The kiss is slow and gentle. After the initial shock, I close my eyes and allow myself to get lost in it, just feeling his breath and his soft lips on mine. It feels so right that I don't want to fight it, so I just suspend all that's holding me back and enjoy the moment. My hand goes up and my fingers slide into his hair as our lips continue their slow exploration.

When we break apart and look at each other, our breaths are equally ragged.

"No," I say.

"Don't play hard to get." He tilts his head to one side. "You know we'll do it."

I swallow my next 'no', because deep inside, I know he's right.

I also know that it scares me like crazy.

He leans forward again, but I move away, putting my weight on my hands behind my back. I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I guess I wanted this all along—wanted him all along—but it still feels like a big plunge. I've been with girls. This is different.

He pauses, watching me, his eyes gleaming in the dark.

"You know why I took your money?" he says. "Back at home?"

I blink, surprised by the change of subject.

"You said it was a payment for getting rid of you."

He shakes his head. "I just said that to piss you off. The truth is, after what happened to you...I didn't want to damage your life anymore. I always ruin things for people around me. I hated myself for what I did to you, because I cared for you, and I though you cared for me."

"I did." I swallow. "Still do."

"I know." His unblinking eyes stare into mine. "That's why I took the money. To make you hate me. To make you never look for me again. Sometimes you must hurt people to set them free. I thought if you didn't like me anymore, you'd stay away."

"Silly you." I run my fingers through his hair, and before I know it, we're kissing again. It's more passionate now, and my body reacts so strongly I fear I won't be able to stop.

With an effort, I break the kiss. "No. We shouldn't. You're still weak."

"Make me strong, then." His lips are smiling when they find mine again, and the last barriers in my mind go down with a crash.

"I want you," I whisper. "I...Teach me how."

He chuckles softly. "At last. Took you some time."

I grab him by the shoulders and flip him to his back and lean over him. His eyes are watching me, wide, expectant; his parted lips look swollen from the kissing. I close them with mine, and then go lower, tracing a trail of kisses down his chin and neck. He arches his back, letting out a sharp breath as my lips reach the place where his neck meets his shoulder and suck in the tender skin, leaving a mark.

"You're...aaah!" He sinks his fingers into my hair, pulling, pushing. "You... looks like... you don't require much teaching, James."

That's the last conscious sentence I hear from him for the next few minutes. After that, the only sounds filling the room are soft sighs and moans and heavy breathing as my hands travel about his body, exploring every inch. He helps me wriggle out of my pants, and I help him out of his. Our shirts fly to the floor. It's full skin to skin now, and I'm hard as a rock, my dick rubbing at his thigh.

"Wait." I try to concentrate enough to recall whatever I know about gay sex. "We don't have...we need...condoms...lube...no?"

"Oh, that." He extends his naked hand overhead and pulls the drawer of my bedside table open, then grins at my confused expression. "I didn't shop only for food, you know."

"You knew?" I reach out to retrieve the items from the drawer. "That we'd do it?"

"From the moment I first saw you." He takes the little lube bottle to himself and slaps a condom in my hand. "Get dressed, big guy."

Then we're on the floor again and he guides me and tells me what to do and I'm still nervous but so turned on that it drowns out all the other emotions. I don't want to hurt him, and I stop when he gasps as I slide inside, but he tells me to go on, and the sensations quickly wipe my mind clean, leaving me only with his body moving underneath me, meeting my quickening thrusts, his fingers digging into my back, our breaths mixing together, mine smelling of beer, his of mint toothpaste. I can sense his erection, too, as hard as mine, brushing occasionally against my stomach; it gives me a pause at first, but then I slide one hand between us and wrap my fingers around it and work him up and down to the rhythm of my thrusts.

"Jamie," he gasps. "Oh Jamie...faster...yeah...ah..."

And faster I go, and for the first time I don't mind him calling me Jamie, and we move together, dissolving in one another. The relief hits us almost simultaneously, his moan mingling with my groan. I collapse onto him and then slide off to the side and lie there, trying to catch my breath, thoughtless, reveling in the afterglow.

After a while, he sits up and throws a blanket over us. Then he cuddles close to me, wrapping his hands around me, putting his head on my shoulder, his chest pressing to my side, his breath tickling my ear. I want to say something, to acknowledge what has just happened in some way, but it feels so calm and cozy to just lie there, sharing the warmth of our bodies, that words seem like an unnecessary intrusion. I cup his hands with mine and I smile to myself as I drift into sleep.