Elijah
I didn't want to fall for Damien too hard. But I couldn't help it. I'd been nursing a crush on his delicious body for weeks. Then he saved me and cared for me and now I was well on the way to being in love. And after that kiss by the river... I felt like I was glowing, like I was happier than I had ever been.
We'd never used the word, but I felt like he was my boyfriend. This is what it felt like to have a boyfriend.
And when tough unromantic Damien took my hand, holding it as we walked back along the river path, I couldn't keep myself from grinning like an idiot.
Damien and I lounged around and watched tv at his house. He got a beer and a packet of chips and offered me a Coke but I just had a water instead -- I was already feeling wired enough from his company, I didn't need caffeine too.
When he sat down at one side of the couch, leaning on a pile of his battered but comfy cushions, I'd hesitated. I wanted to sit beside him, maybe snuggle up. But he looked fierce there and I was suddenly nervous.
"Come here," Damien said, noticing me hovering in the doorway. He put his beer aside and piled some cushions on the floor. He spread his legs so I could settle myself on the cushions with my back against the sofa and Damien's legs on either side.
He started rubbing my shoulders and I groaned and leaned back into his touch -- his hands were firm and I could feel my nervous tension leaving. Though whenever I thought of what we'd done here -- how just last night he'd sucked my dick until I came into his mouth, right here on this sofa -- it made me flush with arousal and my whole body became tense again.
Damien started slipping his hands inside the collar of my shirt, letting his fingers stroke against the bare skin of my neck and collar bone. I remembered last time I'd been in this position, feeling Damien stroking me from behind, and the memory made me shiver. He was so fucking hot, and I promised myself that tonight I wouldn't run away like I had that night in the rain.
"Why do you always wear these stupid loose tops?" Damien's voice interrupted my thoughts.
I didn't reply and just leaned my head back to enjoy his hands.
"Elijah," He growled.
I sighed and said, "I get teased a lot about being skinny. I thought I could, you know, hide it..."
Damien's hands froze and I wondered if I'd said something wrong. When he pulled his hands out of my shirt and got up off the sofa I knew it.
Damien walked around me and out of the room. I heard his footsteps on the stairs out of his apartment and just sat there, stunned. What was going on? What had I said that was so wrong?
After a while, when I was starting to hyperventilate and think about going home, I heard the door unlock and Damien climbing back up the stairs.
He walked into the living room with a cardboard box and a grin. "Got a storage locker downstairs," He told me.
I looked in confusion at the box he dropped on the floor, which was taped up at the top and had writing scrawled and crossed out all over it.
"Some of my old clothes," He told me as he started ripping at the tape on the top of the box. "They should fit you -- I bulked up a lot after high school, I used to wear tees and stuff like you like -- some old band tees and stuff I'd hate to throw away and you'll look fucking hot in."
I was just sitting staring at him in confusion. Damien looked at me and grinned. "Elijah. You're too fucking sexy and you should show it off. If you're going to be my piece of ass I want everyone to know that it's a hot piece of ass."
His words were affectionate enough to make up for their crudeness. I glowed.
Damien pushed the box aside and crawled toward me on all fours. He leaned his forehead against mine and looked into my eyes. "Seriously Elijah. Take that useless oversize piece of shit shirt off so I can see you."
I moved my trembling hands to the hem of my shirt but I obviously wasn't taking it off fast enough for Damien, who growled and grabbed it by the collar and started pulling the shirt off over my head. It was a violent move but the desire in his eyes was countered by the gentle way he pulled my head to his and kissed me. His lips were soft and the kiss tentative and so caring I felt my heart aching.
"Come to my bedroom," Damien whispered as he rested his forehead against mine.
I nodded quickly and we went to the other room. Damien took his shirt off and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in for a tight hug so our bare chests smacked together, skin on skin. He bit and sucked at my neck and his hands gripped my lower back and pulled at my skin, massaging me like he'd been massaging my shoulders earlier.
"You're so fucking hot Elijah," Damien growled.
He dropped one arm so it was hooked under my butt and, before I could do more than cry out in surprise, he was picking me up and bodily carrying me to his bed. He climbed on after me, his body taking up most of the narrow space so he had to press against me.
He was right there next to me, his warm body with its intoxicating smell of manly sweat and engine oil. His tattoos flexed as he moved and the light would catch on his nipple piercing and make it shine. I could just melt into a puddle of desire.
I reached out a hand to touch his chest, nervously, still not confident of touching this sexy skinhead. He grinned and grabbed both my hands, shifted his weight so he was on his knees resting either side of me with both my hands caught in his. The pose reminded me forcibly of my near rape and for a moment I froze with fright, but then Damien was rubbing my palms over his tattooed skin and I forgot everything except the warmth of his body.
He let go of my hands and for a moment I hesitated. But then I accepted his permission. I ran my hands across his chest, loving the firmness of his pecs and letting my fingertips play across his nipple piercing until he was groaning out loud. I stroked the outlines of his tattoos, as far as I could reach until my hands were disappearing around his sides.
