Incendiary

Chapter 10 - Overhaul

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JUSTIN

I pull back just enough to see his face, certain my own reflects something akin to shock and disbelief. Did he just say what I thought he said?

He rolls his eyes, but when he speaks, his voice is anything but scornful. More like an affectionate teasing. "Don't tell me that after waiting all this time, you didn't hear it."

"I did," I assure him quickly. "I just … say it again."

It's a request, or maybe even a plea, not a demand, but as soon as it's out of my mouth, I know it's too much. I've waited so long. Wasn't even sure it would ever happen and now that it has, I have to ruin the moment by wanting more.

He takes my face gently in his hands and a warmth spreads through me right down to my toes. I have to hold my breath as his eyes stare intently into mine.

"I love you, Justin Taylor. I love…"

I press my lips hard against his, inhaling the words until they're a part of me, infusing my very fiber as strongly and as surely as the blood that courses through my veins.

He presses his forehead to mine and just looks at me for a long moment, a gentle smile lighting his features. I've never loved him more than I do at this moment and I find it impossible to contain.

"I love you, too."

His smile is a little wider, his eyes a little brighter as he gently kisses me again.

"You're going to have to help me out here," he says, stroking my hair softly. "I have no fucking clue what happens now."

I lean closer with what I hope is a seductive smile, but I suspect is more like an idiotic grin. "I think this is where you take me upstairs and have your wicked way with me."

He huffs a small laugh. "And have Debbie or Emmett bursting in and pulling up a chair? I don't think so."

"Do you have a better idea?"

He nods and takes my wrist in his hand, pulling me toward the door. "I have just the place."

He opens the car door for me and reaches over to buckle me in before taking his place behind the wheel. I'm not sure where we're going, but I don't care. Wherever it is, I could probably fucking float there. He's right. I really am a lesbionic twat. But I don't care about that right now, either.

We drive in silence for a moment which is fine by me. I'm still hearing those three little words over and over in my head. No conversation could possibly compare.

"Tom Gibson from the Fire Marshal's Office was at the loft today," he says, drawing me from my internal gushing.

"And?"

"He doesn't know how yet, exactly, but he's sure the fire came through the electrical outlet beside the bed."

I nod slowly, not sure why it really matters at this point. "That sucks."

He's quiet for a moment. "I thought…"

I catch a small hitch in his voice and turn to him, frowning in concern. "What?"

I don't think he's going to answer, but he finally sighs. "I was smoking in the bedroom right before I went to Babylon. I was sure I'd put it out, but …"

But he thought he'd been responsible. For a fire that could have killed one or both of us.

I lay my hand lightly on his leg. "It wasn't your fault, Brian."

He nods rather abruptly and continues to stare straight ahead through the windshield. I know I could try to placate him, tell him again that he wasn't to blame, but that's not what he needs right now. The more I try to convince him, the more he'll pull away from me.

Thankfully, I've read the Brian Kinney manual cover to cover. I pinch the inside of his thigh hard between my thumb and forefinger. Christ! That fucking hurt.

"Ow! What was that for, you little shit?"

"For smoking in bed. Jesus, Brian, how many times do I have to tell you how dangerous that is? Look what could have happened."

"It wasn't me. I just told you it was the fucking electrical outlet." He's rubbing the abused area with his free hand, a pout firmly planted on those beautiful lips. "Fuck."

"Well, now that we're in complete agreement that it wasn't your fault, I'm sorry I pinched you."

He glares at me. "No, you're not."

"Actually, I am. It fucking hurt."

Immediately, his expression changes from pissed to concerned. "Jesus, Justin." He takes my hand in his and studies the seared skin. Keeping his eyes casually on the road, he brings it to his lips and kisses it gently.

Another Kinney queen-out crisis averted. I am so onto him.

I'm not overly surprised when we arrive at Pittsburgh's ritziest hotel. I am, however, when we bypass the registration desk and head straight for the elevator.

Once alone inside the small enclosure, I slip my arms around his waist and kiss his chin. "Pretty sure of yourself, were you?"

He grimaces and pulls me close. "The only thing I was really sure of was that I didn't want to wake up to Ted's mug again anytime soon."

An exaggerated shudder wracks his body and I have to chuckle. I start to pull away when the elevator door opens, but he doesn't let me go far, his arm around my waist holding me close to him as we walk down the corridor to the room.

Correction. Rooms.

Brian's got the door open and is ushering me into a suite the likes of which I never knew existed in Pittsburgh.

"Well, Sunshine?" he says, tossing the key card onto a table near the door where his briefcase already stands. "What do you think of our temporary home?"

I try to hide my smile and look nonchalant. "It's not the country estate of my dreams with tennis courts and stables, but it'll do."

He grabs my wrist and tugs, our chests colliding softly as I end up in his arms. "Spoiled brat."

"If I didn't insist on the best, I wouldn't have you."

His eyes soften and he leans in slowly for a long, deep kiss. By the time it ends, I'm feeling a little light headed. "Is there a bedroom around here somewhere?"

"Two," he replies, kissing his way down my neck.

"Pick one… now."

He huffs a laugh into my collar bone. "Bossy, aren't we?" He doesn't fool me, though; he's already steering me toward a door that seems ridiculously far away. But as long as he keeps kissing my throat, my jaw, that little spot just below my ear, I know I'll enjoy the journey

The bed is huge, but that's the only detail that registers as he backs me slowly into the room, one arm snugly around my waist, the other hand flat and firm between my shoulder blades. It's a wonder our legs aren't getting tangled together, sending us both crashing to the floor. But we've always been in tune with each other in the physical sense, moving seamlessly together like two parts of a well-oiled machine. And even if we were to stumble, I know he'd never let me fall.

I feel the edge of the bed against my legs and I just about lose my balance, but he steadies me with strong hands on my shoulders. I smile. He doesn't realize it, but he just proved me right.

"Whoa. Let's get you undressed first, shall we?"

I let him take the lead, lifting my arms as he pulls the t-shirt quickly but carefully over my head. My face is barely free of the fabric before his lips swoop in to claim mine in a long, hard kiss. His fingers skate lightly down my sides, bringing goosebumps to the surface of my heated skin.

As soon as his lips leave my mouth, they're blazing a trail down my throat before detouring over to the juncture where neck meets shoulder. It's a sensitive spot for me and he knows that, taking advantage of it as he sucks the blood to the surface and then bites down just hard enough to send a jolt of electricity through my entire body.

"Brian," I breathe as my arms circle him, pulling him closer to me with the inside of my wrists.

He gently pushes me backward and I fall to the bed with a small gasp. My mind barely has time to register the change in position before he's atop me, kissing my chin, my neck, my chest, slowly trailing downward until he reaches the denim barrier of my waistband.

With nimble fingers, that I'm still coherent enough to envy at the moment, he flicks open the button and lowers the zipper, licking and nipping at each inch of newly exposed skin on the way.

I whimper under his ministrations. Patience was never my strong suit. Certainly not when it comes to Brian playing my body in a way only he can. He takes pity on me, though, and nudges my hip with his head as his fingers grasp the waistband of my jeans and my underwear together. I lift my hips in response and he pulls them down my legs, tossing them to the floor and eliciting a sigh of relief that I'm no longer hindered by the restriction.

Placing his hands on my now bare waist, he moves me up further on the bed so that my legs no longer dangle over the side. His eyes locked on mine, he takes my right hand in his and kisses my fingers gently before placing it carefully on the bedspread above my head and turning to lavish the same attention on the left one. Once they're both safely out of the way, he leans in and kisses me softly before standing up and proceeding to slowly remove his own clothes.

I lick my lips in anticipation as his perfect body is gradually revealed to me. As many times as I've seen it, I'm still in awe at how beautiful he is. "Jesus, Brian."

He smirks and lowers himself onto the bed, half on top of me. He kisses me over and over while his hands gently stroke my flesh. God, the things he can do with his mouth and hands alone should be illegal. Maybe they are. Maybe they'll burst through the door at any moment and arrest him for being sexier and more sensual than anyone has a right to be.

I'm pulled from my nonsensical thoughts when his mouth nears my already hard dick. He inhales deeply and lets out a low moan that makes me impossibly harder. "Please, Brian." I'm not above begging.

And he's not above being amused by it, apparently. He huffs a small laugh before his mouth swallows me whole. My back arches off the bed, my hands reaching to tangle themselves in his hair.

"Uh uh," he says, lifting his head. "Do I have to get out those shackles we talked about?"

Like the obedient and hopelessly horny bottom I am, I put my hands back where he wants them. Who am I kidding? I'd cut them off if it meant getting his mouth back where I want it.

Once he's satisfied that I'm not going to move them again, he resumes his task, that being the most incredible blowjob in the history of sex. In a matter of minutes, embarrassingly few, actually, I'm shooting down his throat.

He kisses his way slowly up my body until he reaches my lips. "Feel good?" he murmurs.

"Mmm, incredible."

He smirks, but there's a hint of affection in it. "We're just getting started."

He rolls me gently onto my side, his lips leaving a trail of warm kisses across my shoulder blade and up the back of my neck. One hand cradles my wrists in a protective grasp while the other skims down my side, around to the back of my thigh and slowly up between my legs, his fingers lightly tracing my crack. He nudges my leg with his own and I bend it like he wants me to, giving him better access. His finger circles my hole, applying just enough pressure to make me quiver with anticipation. "Brian, please."

He kisses my back again before reaching over to grab the lube from the night stand. I guess his briefcase wasn't the only thing he dropped off when he booked the room. Thank God.

He lubes his fingers and circles my hole twice before pushing one inside. I can't stop a soft groan from escaping. "God, Brian. More."

No one could ever say Brian's not an obliging lover. He pushes in another finger slowly and proceeds to gently stroke and stretch, preparing me for what's to come.

And speaking of which… "Fuck me, Brian."

I hear the condom wrapper being ripped open and close my eyes as I wait for the delicious burn that accompanies his initial entry. He pushes into me slowly, one hand grasping my hip to hold me steady. I'm panting as he fills me, my fingers trying to curl into my bandaged palms. As always, he's one step ahead of me, slipping his own hand in position to keep me from doing further damage.

He kisses my back gently while he waits for me to adjust. When I push back against him, he begins a slow, tortuous rhythm, intended to reawaken my recently spent cock. I groan as I feel it hardening, my breath catching in my throat as he strokes my prostate.

But I need more.

"Faster, Brian. Harder."

He lengthens the strokes, each one reaching deep inside until I feel like I could shatter from the sweet agony. "Oh, God, Brian. More. Please."

Pulling out completely, he pushes me onto my stomach, grabbing my hips to raise my ass in the air. I pull my knees under me and try to raise myself on all fours, but he gently pushes my upper body back to the mattress. Not only does it keep the pressure off my hands, but it changes the angle slightly. When he reenters me, I can't stifle a groan as he rakes over my prostate on the first thrust. "Faster, Brian."

Once again, he grants my request, increasing the tempo until I can feel my chest sliding against the bedspread with each thrust. "God, I'm so close."

On cue, he reaches beneath me and grasps my leaking dick. Three masterful strokes later, I'm coming hard in his palm, his name on my lips.

I feel myself clench around him as the spasms wrack my body and I hear him groan. He pushes in to the hilt and holds steady, his hips twitching as he fills the condom.

Pulling out carefully, he collapses on his back at my side, pulling me close. I press myself against him, my head on his chest. We lay there for a long moment in silence while we wait for our breathing to regulate.

"That was … God…"

He chuckles. "Yeah."

I kiss his chest and wrap my arm around his waist. "I love you."

He kisses the top of my head and pulls me even closer. "Me too."

I smile and close my eyes, the previous night's lack of sleep and the recent exertion taking its toll. It's a long moment before he speaks again.

"Did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly.

I'm on the verge of sleep. "About what? Harder? Faster?"

He smacks my ass. Ow.

"The country estate. Stables and tennis courts. Is that what you really want?"

Oh, that.

"Mm, of course. We all do. They start drilling it into our heads in Country Club preschool and they just never let up."

I expect a snarky remark or another slap on the ass, but all I get is silence. I turn my head so I can see him and he's staring at the ceiling, a thoughtful look on his face. "Brian, I was kidding."

He turns his head to look at me. Make that study me, his eyes searching mine, looking for … something. "The loft's destroyed. If a house in the country is what you want…" His voice trails off and he shrugs a little.

Christ.

He's fucking serious. I know Brian. Unless I word my response just right, I could find myself living out in the middle of nowhere before the week is out. "You're asking me if I really want a big house in the country?"

He nods and I take a moment to consider it. It's not something I ever really thought I'd have to think about. The fact that Brian is even willing to offer this is deserving of nothing less than a completely honest answer. I sit up, facing him. "Do you want that?"

He shrugs again and looks back up at the ceiling for a moment before returning his gaze to me. "I want you to be happy."

And I fall in love with him all over again.

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