So Rare (Boys of South Chapel #3)

13. Levi

Chapter 13

Levi

NOW

Hunter.

My sole focus right now needs to be Hunter.

I walk back to the room with a renewed sense of purpose. We need to get on the road and get our girl. Greedy mentioned last night that the truck still needs gas, and knowing that Kabir wasn’t satisfied with the beverage options this morning, we’ll probably need to stop for food, too.

But I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that my heart is still pounding so hard I’m afraid it might beat right out of my chest.

The image of Greedy on his knees for me will be etched into my consciousness for the rest of my life.

My stomach plummets, and another wave of shame swamps me.

Fuck.

In my haste to get to Hunter, I left him in the shower. Ran off without explanation. Without even a backward glance. He deserves so much more than that. Especially considering that was a first for him.

I’ll apologize as soon as he gets back to the room. He’s probably worried that I have regrets. Dammit.

If anything, it was too much, but in the best way. Every sensation from the erotic to the sensual to the brief kiss we shared after we came was incredible. Fuck. Maybe it actually was too much. Otherwise I wouldn’t have totally lost my sense of place and time. I forgot where we were, why we’re here, and what we need to do.

I’m not upset with Greedy at all, I realize, as I insert the motel key into the keyhole. If anything, I’m frustrated with myself for allowing even one second of my energy and attention to deviate from Hunter.

My heart is beating double-time as I enter the room. The curtain is still drawn, and none of the lights are on; Kabir must be asleep.

Quietly, I pad to the bathroom so I can get ready without disturbing him. Hell, I could probably use another shower with the way I’m feeling now. A cold one, this time.

It isn’t until I turn the handle and push that I notice the steam billowing out from under the bathroom door.

Heart lodged in my throat. I clench the handle, ready to silently shut it again. I’m hoping he hasn’t noticed me when his words reach my ears.

“Are you well, champ?”

Fucking hell.

My eyes dart up to meet his. Instead, I’m met with the smooth, broad expanse of muscle and dark skin of his bare back.

A dingy white towel clings to his hips, riding precariously low.

I’m still staring at it when he turns to face me.

“Levi. I asked you a question.”

His commandeering tone sends a shudder through me.

“Are you well?”

Slumping against the bathroom door, I close my eyes and breathe deep, trying to get my shit together.

“No,” I croak.

When I open my eyes, I’m startled by his proximity.

He’s inches from my face, the warmth of his body soaking into me. He cups my cheek, the gentle move encouraging me to exhale slowly. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath.

“You’re not well. Noted.” He turns my face slightly, as if inspecting me. “You are, however, freshly showered. Freshly fucked, as well?”

My stomach lurches at the callout.

“Freshly fucked, but not entirely satisfied, perhaps? Do you need more, champ?”

“What?” I gape. I don’t need more. I’ve already taken things too far with Greedy, all while Hunter’s waiting for us to get a move on.

“We—I—” I search for the words to articulate my concerns but come up comically short.

“Hunter,” I finally force out. “We need to get going. We need to find Hunter.”

His eyes soften. I’ve got a couple of inches on him, so he has to look up a little to catch my gaze. Despite the gentleness in his expression, his grip on my face tightens, reminding me of exactly who’s in charge in this moment.

“Did you receive my update? Everything is in motion, but not yet in place. We need to wait just a bit longer, and then we’ll be on our way. Now,” he continues before I can interject or argue, “answer my question, champ. Do you need more?”

“What—what does that even mean?” I pant. I’m hot. Uncomfortably so. It must be the steam from the shower. Or Spence’s body heat warming me with his proximity.

“Hunter always needs more. One orgasm isn’t enough for her to truly let go,” he explains.

Hunter.

The mention of our girl is the reminder I need.

“N-no,” I stammer, taking a step back. “No, I’m good. We have to go. Hunter is—”

“Levi.”

My name is a two-syllable command.

I snap my mouth shut and will my breathing to level out.

“You need to be honest with me if this is ever going to last. You just came. By way of Garrett, I presume?”

My cheeks heat with shame as a bead of sweat rolls down my spine.

I’m not embarrassed about what Greedy and I did. I’m ashamed that, even for one second, I let myself feel anything but sorrow and despair.

“You’re angry.” Spence examines me, his piercing blue-gray eyes reading every emotion I’m fighting like hell to hide from him.

He leans closer, bringing his mouth to my ear.

“I can be the outlet for that anger. I can take it. But I can also give you more if needed.”

I close my eyes and turn my head, desperate to shut out the temptation his offer creates.

He nips at my earlobe, then runs his nose along my jaw. On a husky whisper, he murmurs, “How would you feel if I put you on your knees right here, right now?”

“ No .” My answer escapes before I can even process it. It’s an immediate, guttural reaction. I don’t want to be dominated or degraded by Spence. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Experiencing that dynamic when Hunter’s here, even dabbling in it, is sexy. I like bantering with him and following his instructions with her by my side. But without her, if it’s just him and me, the lack of control is too sickeningly familiar. The power exchange is too distinct.

Even in a drunken stupor, my father was cunning and brutal. I shudder at the very thought of being at the mercy of another man.

“No,” I repeat, calmer this time, but still just as sure. “I’ll safe-word if you try it.”

Spence stands up straight, looking me directly in the eyes. “Then I wouldn’t dare.”

I gulp past the trepidation threatening to rise up my esophagus and look right back at him, nodding my appreciation.

“Very well, then,” he says, not the least bit upset by my rejection. “You don’t want to be degraded, and I don’t bottom. But I do believe I can still help. Although a plethora of options exist, one in particular comes to mind that I’m quite certain will meet both our needs nicely.”

“Wha”—I clear my throat, confusion and curiosity getting the best of me—“What option is that?”

“May I?” Spence asks, teasing a long finger along the seam of my athletic shorts.

My whole body lights up from that one simple touch, my abs rippling and my heart rate picking up again.

Spence wants to help. We’re not leaving this place until he says so, and that alone is enough to bring my agitation to the surface again.

I’m too in my feelings to resist his offer.

Too raw to try to pretend that I don’t want him.

Eyes closed, I nod once more. I’m afraid if I speak, he’ll mistake my painfully rigid reply for hesitation.

The sensation is the opposite of hesitation. I’m burning up on the inside, desperate to let go and accept what he’s offering, shame and guilt and worry be damned.

He read me exactly right. I need more. I’m still reeling from the unknowns with Hunter and Greedy and all that’s transpired over the last twenty-four hours.

A firm hand brushes over the outside of my shorts.

“There he is,” Spence murmurs. I open my eyes to find him smirking at me. He grips my cock tighter, pulling a sharp gasp from me.

“I knew your refractory period was impressive,” he praises. “You don’t even know what I have in mind, yet you’re already hardening. I love your enthusiasm, champ. Your zest for life. I want to make you feel so fucking good.”

“What do you have in mind?” I rasp, pressing myself harder into the closed door at my back. Not because I want to get away, but to counteract the heady, lust-drunk feeling coursing through my limbs with something solid and tangible.

“I want to make us both feel good. Together. I want to seek mutual pleasure with you as my equal. With your permission, I’ll reach into your short trousers, wrap my fist around your cock, then stretch my foreskin over the smooth glands that make up the head.”

At the mental image his words conjure, I groan.

“Would you like that, champ?” he pushes. “Because I think I would like it very much.”

I gulp, but I don’t have the courage to answer. I’ve never done this before. I want it, I want him, and yet I’m trembling with nerves.

As if sensing exactly what’s holding me back, Spence squeezes me gently, then ghosts his lips over my ear once more.

“You are worthy, Levi. I see you. I respect you. You need to see yourself that way as well in order for this to work. I’m at your mercy. I won’t move another inch until you give me consent. Say yes for me, champ.”

“Yes,” I grit out, shoving down my shorts and exposing myself to him.

“Bloody hell.” With one look at my angry, pulsing cock, he whips off his towel and lets it fall to the floor.

The breath leaves my lungs as Spence tugs on his length, then lines up the slit of his slick penis with mine.

“I’m already leaking for you. Look how intensely you affect me.”

On contact, I moan, and my hips piston forward of their own volition, desperate for more.

“Easy,” Spence advises. “Breathe for me, champ. You have to be still while I line us up.”

I shakily nod and force oxygen into my system, unable to tear my attention away from the sight of our cocks nudging and bumping at the tips.

Spence hisses as he pulls on himself, gathering enough foreskin to cover his glands and encase me as well. “Fuck. You’re stretching me so beautifully, champ. Look at the way we fit together.”

Look? I don’t think I could blink if I tried.

His dark, velvety foreskin is pulled taut over my aching cock. But he doesn’t stop there. He keeps working it farther along my shaft, stretching himself to cover as much of me as possible.

“Last look,” he teases.

That comment finally breaks my focus. Lifting my gaze to his face, I frown, confused.

“I have to hold us together to make this work.” With one large hand, he encircles the place we’re joined.

My knees threaten to buckle as he adjusts his tight grip over the heads of our dicks.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice the shaky one this time.

I search his face, drink in the way his pupils are blown out and his gaze is focused on the union of our cocks.

“Ready,” I tell him confidently. “Make me feel good, Spence.”

He gives a tentative stroke. Warmth surrounds my length, then exquisite tightness leaves me lightheaded when he pulls away.

“Fuck,” he hisses as I grit out a “fuck yeah.”

It’s the most sensitive, stimulating sensation: wet and wanton, intimate, and deeply deprived. Our cocks kiss and stroke each other in a beautiful dance, guided by the grip of Spence’s hand. Every pulse of his head spurs me on. Every nudge of my tip against his inspires a physical reply that leaves me weak in the knees.

We are joined. We are equals. When one of us moves, we both benefit. When one of us takes, we both gain.

On the next stroke, Spence slams his free hand against the door near my head. His chest heaves with exertion, and a moan rumbles from deep within him before escaping as a roar. His upper body trembles as if he can’t hold himself upright and jack us off at the same time.

“Whoa. Easy.” I wrap one arm around his back, supporting some of his weight.

Wild eyes lift and search my face, so full of need. He’s just as engrossed in this moment as I am.

“I’ve got you.” I lean in until my lips brush against his.

It’s our first kiss.

The sweetest, simplest gesture, offered in reassurance and paired with the most erotic, intoxicating sexual experience of my life.

Pulling back, he mindlessly brings his fingertips to his lips. “Thank you,” he murmurs. On a long exhale, he angles in farther, letting me support more of his weight. With his forehead pressed into the top of my shoulder, he ruts against me and resumes his mission, jerking our cocks in unison.

“Bloody hell, champ. I didn’t expect it to feel like this.”

That makes two of us. The fire he sparked inside me erupts, warming my core as flames lick up my spine.

“I’m going to jerk us hard and fast now. Are you ready for me?”

“So ready,” I pant, balling my free hand into a fist as I cling to his low back and hold on like my life depends on it.

Without hesitation, Spence pulls on our lengths in quick, rapid succession. Every tug feels incredible enough to send me into the abyss, but the blaze he’s stoking inside me just keeps building as our cocks fuse together from the friction.

“I’m close,” Spence grunts into my ear.

Thank fuck . My control is practically nonexistent.

“Get ready, champ. First, our cum will seep into the sanctuary I’ve made for us. Then I’ll release my hand, and we’ll stay united as we glide together in our combined release.”

Spurred on by his exquisite, detailed dirty talk, hot flames of arousal shoot up my legs and spasm low in my core. “Fuck. Coming.” The words have barely passed my lips before the first wave of pleasure rips through me.

“Me, too. Come with me, champ. Come with me as my equal.”

He releases us, as promised, then wraps his arms around my neck and lets me hold him. We stand like that together, panting, reveling in the unexpected intensity of the experience we just shared.

Together. As equals.