Out of Sync Page 9

On my eighteenth birthday, Xavier baked me a cake, and Teri and Ritchie came over to celebrate. Natalie led them in a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday,” and I couldn’t remember ever being happier in my life.

  After X went to bed, Teri picked up a big box she’d brought with her. “It’s not a traditional present, really, but Ritchie told me you wanted some work done once you were of age. So, if you’re up for it, I brought my travel kit.”

  A lump formed in my throat as I looked down at my scarred arms. I nodded. “Right now?”

  She grinned, that slow feral grin that terrified me at first but now I knew meant she was having a good time.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Ritchie came to sit on the sofa next to me while Teri cleaned and shaved my arm. She stroked her fingers over my scars carefully, feeling the density of them. She glanced up, her gaze meeting mine steadily.

  “Do you want me to hide them or enhance them?”

  I swallowed. “Hide them.”

  She nodded. “Let’s start with something small—inside of the wrist. We can work up your forearms over time. Do you have anything at all in mind design-wise?”

  I had thought about it, ever since Ritchie had told me Teri would tattoo me if wanted but not before I turned eighteen. “I thought maybe something growing—like trees or vines or something, with words woven through it.”

  Teri nodded. “Would you like to start with a word, maybe at the root of the design?”

  Ritchie squeezed my thigh, and I glanced over at him. He was smiling.

  “What?” I asked him.

  “Nothing, I know what you’re going to choose.”

  Teri looked between us. “Bullshit.”

  I wasn’t so sure. By now, Ritchie knew me as well as anyone else in my life ever had. I’d told him things even Ade didn’t know.“Write it down and give it to Teri. I won’t look.”

  When Teri looked at the paper he handed her, one of her eyebrows rose. “Okay. I can see that, actually. So, what’s the word, Jacks?”

  “Freedom,” I said. “And you can do it in Ritchie’s handwriting.”

  She set the slip of paper down, and sure enough, there it was in Ritchie’s neat block printing. “You two are freaks of nature, you know that?”

  I laughed. “Lovers gonna love.”

  The buzz and hum of the tattoo needle made me nervous, but in a turned-on, excited way. Ritchie held my other hand, tracing circles over my palm. The first touch of the needle made me draw in a sharp breath. I hadn’t felt pain so pure and steady since the last time I’d cut myself. I let my breath out slowly.

  “Okay?” Teri asked.

  I nodded. “It’s good.”

  Her lips tilted up at the corners and she got to work. It didn’t take long, and she worked steadily, patiently across my wrist. The pain sank into me and through me—and I could almost visualize it like sparks on my skin. My eyes drifted closed as I concentrated on it, lost myself in the sweetness of all that sensation. It was over too soon.

  When I opened my eyes to look at it, the whole world seemed somehow hazy and sparkling at the same time. Like glitter, out of focus.

  “Wow, you got in deep, didn’t you?” Teri said as she wrapped my wrist carefully. “You’re going to be a dream to work on.” She handed me one of her business cards. “Care instructions are on the back. Call me if you have any trouble with it.”

  I nodded, still feeling a little dizzy.

  “Endorphins are wild, aren’t they?” Ritchie murmured in my ear.

  “I feel like I’m high,” I mumbled.

  Teri ruffled my hair, then started packing up her kit. “Happy birthday, Jacks.”

  I didn’t want the night to end, but Nat and X had to be at work early, so before it got too late, Ritchie and Teri headed out.

  Before they left, Ritchie pressed me back against the wall in the hallway and kissed me deep and slow.

  “I love you so much, Jacks,” he whispered in between kisses. “Happy birthday.”

  I held him as tightly as I could. “I love you, too.”

  “Do you need any help moving?” Nat lay on her stomach on the bed, flipping through one of my fashion magazines while I packed up my clothes, folding them carefully and putting them in an old shopping bag.

  “No, I don’t have that much stuff. Teri says we can get it all in the trunk of her car.”

  Nat smiled. “And Ritchie lives like a monk, so he doesn’t have anything. How are the two of you going to fill a whole apartment?”

  I smiled to myself as I sat down next to her. “It’s just a studio. I’m sure once there’s a bed in there, it will feel full. Even crowded.”

  “Yeah.” She rolled onto her back. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’m moving across Brooklyn, not the country.”

  “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about walking in on you and Ritchie doing it anymore.”

  I laughed. “You have never walked in on us doing it.”

  “But I worried about it.” She laughed and pulled me down to the bed with her, wrapping her arms around me. “And I’m going to worry about you, too.”

  I felt a lump in my throat and hugged her back. No one—except Ade—had ever worried about me before I moved into this room just over a year before. And now I was moving on to the next step—my own place.

  My place with Ritchie. It sent a thrill down my spine—Nat had never walked in on me and Ritchie doing it because we hadn’t ever. And it’s not like we hadn’t wanted to—I wanted it so desperately I couldn’t breathe sometimes. We’d never had the privacy to do more than make out. And now we would.

  When Teri pulled up outside and hit the horn, I picked up the bag of clothes and one of my plants. Nat grabbed the other two plants and followed me out to the car. Ritchie helped us put them in the trunk, pushing his duffel bag close to the pots to keep the plants upright.

  “Here.” I handed Nat my key, or tried to.

  “Keep it. You might need it sometime. X won’t mind.”

  I nodded, placing it back on my key ring next to the one for the new apartment. “Where is X?”

  She smiled. “He said he’d see you at work.” Then she pulled me into a hug. “And so will I. I’m covering the reception desk tomorrow night.”

  I squeezed her tightly and let go. “See you then.”

  Ritchie was practically vibrating with excitement as Teri drove us to the new place.

  I put a hand on his bouncing knee. “What’s going on?”

  “I have a surprise for you.” He grinned, a wild light in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but grin back.

  “I love surprises.”

  “I already moved your drum kit in this morning. Teri was excited to get it out of her closet.”

  “Jeez, don’t spoil the surprise, Ritch,” Teri deadpanned.

  “That’s not the surprise,” Ritchie whispered, then kissed me behind the ear.

  I shivered and clutched his hand in mine. “I can’t believe we finally have our own place. No more sleeping on couches.”

  Teri snorted, then said, “And I can’t believe I’ll finally have Ritchie off my couch—what’s it been, two years?”

  He smiled. “Three.”

  “Three years.” She shook her head. “My God.”

  “You’re going to miss me.” He smirked at her, making her laugh.

  “Maybe a little.” She laughed as she pulled up to the curb. “I can’t believe you’re in Drea’s old building.”

  “I know right? I always liked her place though,” Ritchie said. “Well, Jacks, you ready?”

  I swallowed and nodded.

  After saying goodbye to Teri, we made our way up the stairs with our meager belongings, and Ritchie opened the door to let us in.

  Our home.

  The kitchen was tiny, barely more than a stove and a sink, separated from the rest of the apartment by a breakfast bar just big enough for two. I set my bags on it and looked around, my eyes landing on the only piece of furniture in the
place. A big leather sofa dominated the space.

  “I know we said no more couches,” Ritchie began pulling the cushions from it. “But this one opens into a bed, so I’m hoping that doesn’t count?”

  “This is the surprise?” I asked, my mouth suddenly going dry at the thought of all the things we could do in a bed. I crossed the room to help him open it with shaking hands.

  He shrugged, a sheepish grin turning his lips up at the corners. “It’s not very subtle, I guess. But I wanted something nice for us. I’ve been saving for a while and it—”

  I stopped him with a kiss. “It’s wonderful.”

  Once it was open, I stretched out on the bed, sliding onto soft sheets that smelled like Ritchie’s laundry detergent, and I tugged him down on top of me. This. Now, we could have this.

  Sure, we had spent every possible moment making out over the last year—but this was a first in a lot of ways. A first in the new apartment. A first without any chance of anyone walking in. In all this time we’d spent making out, there hadn’t been nearly enough getting off, too many nights ending with us still hard and frustrated and walking away because there was no time or no place.

  His lips found mine and his hands buried themselves in my hair. He let me take his whole weight, driving his body against me dick-first. I groaned into his mouth as he started rocking his hips and squirming against me. He knew me now—knew that the feeling of him thrusting, the lewd movements of his body were as much of a turn-on as his lips on my throat or his hands in my hair. There was nothing in the world as sexy as the way Ritchie wanted this. With me. I shivered under him, running my hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

  “Ahh, Jacks…” He broke the kiss and knelt up over me, with an expression so tender and loving it made me want to cry. He teased at my chest with one hand, dropping the other into his lap and stroking himself. “I can’t believe I have you all to myself. Is this real?”

  I swallowed thickly and nodded. I closed my eyes as he pinched a nipple, then scratched his hand down my belly. He grabbed my briefs in both hands and dragged them down my legs, leaving me completely bare. Another first—to be naked in front of the man I loved rather than groping each other fully clothed in the hallway of a bar.

  “You’re so fucking hot.” Ritchie’s voice was hoarse with lust and admiration, which flushed my body with pleasure. Then, I couldn’t breathe because his mouth was on my dick.

  I arched up from the bed, twisting my hands in the sheets. My body wanted to skip all the steps between arousal and orgasm, hurtling me toward that peak so quickly, I practically had to yank Ritchie away by his hair. He rolled onto his back and tugged me with him so I sprawled over him instead.

  “You okay?”

  “It’s too much—” I swallowed and dragged in a breath, desperate to calm myself down enough to keep going. “Too much. It’s too good, I don’t want to come yet.”

  He smiled and traced a fingertip along my cheekbone. “Might be fun to see how many times we can come in one night.”

  I shuddered over him, then started kissing him again, letting go of some of that calm I’d been trying to seize and grinding my dick into his. Heat climbed my spine as we thrust and rolled and gasped together, pressing increasingly desperate kisses to every inch of bare skin.

  The next time he took me in his mouth, I lay back and let him suck me. I tried to keep my hips still, tried to let him set the pace, but his mouth was so hot, so wet, and I was at the edge of my control already.

  “I’m gonna—oh, you’re going to make me come. Oh my god, Ritchie—” My body tightened up and he lunged over me, working me with his hand and kissing me like he’d die if he didn’t.

  I came. Thrusting into Ritchie’s hand, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on for dear life as my orgasm tore through me. I felt it everywhere—in skin and spirit, heart and soul. I shuddered and gasped and bit down on his shoulder as my spunk spilled hot between us.

  I reached for him then, and he knelt over me, his head thrown back as I jerked him steadily. His face, when he came, was beautiful—his lips opened, his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed red. He was wild and alive and pleasure seemed to sing from every inch of his skin. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

  He stretched one of his long arms over the side of the bed and grabbed a t-shirt, which he used to clean us up before he lay down next to me. I cuddled him close, and he put his head on my shoulder.

  “That was—” he sighed against my skin.

  “Worth getting to know you first,” I teased, and he laughed into my chest and then pulled me down for another kiss.

  We drifted in and out of sleep, hands and lips roaming freely. After a long stretch of sleep, I woke up to Ritchie’s roaming hand moving more purposefully down over me, stroking me hard. I let out a soft moan of arousal and opened my eyes to see him lying beside me, my cock in one hand and his own in the other.

  “That’s the only way I want to wake up ever again.” I thrust into his hand and then realized it was slippery. Heat ran through me like a lightning strike.

  “Do you want to fuck me?” he asked, his voice gone rough with excitement.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’ve never—”

  “I know.” He grinned at me. “And I’ve never. But I want to so much. I want to have a lot of firsts with you.”

  I nodded—because even though I’d thought about it a lot, I didn’t trust myself with words at that moment. Knowing that neither one of us was experienced in this made it less daunting, but I was speechless with desire.

  He lay next to me and kissed me, and I kissed him back, enjoying the slick feel of the lube on my dick as we rocked together.

  “Pass me the lube,” I said when I could finally speak. He slipped the bottle into my hand, his steady gaze meeting mine. When he smiled, I felt my shoulders relax a little and I huffed out a breath.

  I poured lube onto my fingers, watching as he rolled onto his back and put his feet flat on the bed, his knees up. My breath caught at the sight. I reached between his legs, and he spread them wider to give me better access. As I rubbed lube against him, he bit his lower lip and closed his eyes. I slid a finger into him, and he moaned blissfully—easily the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life. I pushed deeper, moving my finger experimentally. When he hissed and his hips jerked up, I started to pull away.

  “Don’t stop—whatever you just did hit my prostate and it felt fucking incredible.”

  I thought back to my anatomy class at Princeton, and I smiled down at him. If prostate stimulation turned him on, I could totally do that. I added a second finger and stroked upward, finding the gland with both.

  “That—holy shit that feels good.”

  That was all I needed to hear. My new mission in life was making him feel good. I stroked over it a few more times as he writhed and groaned, making hot, desperate noises. I felt sexy and powerful as he ground himself back on my fingers, but as much as I was enjoying this, I knew I’d enjoy being inside him even more. I slowly withdrew my fingers.

  “Now? Please?” He practically begged.

  I added more lube to my dick and knelt between his legs. “You’ll stop me if I hurt you?”

  “Oh, Jacks.” He pulled me down for a kiss, then pressed my forehead to his and stared steadily into my eyes. “You won’t hurt me. We’ll go slow. You’ll see.”

  I pressed inside him, watching his face for any signs of pain or tension. He closed his eyes tightly at one point, then let out a slow breath and smiled. He felt hot and tight around me, and I could barely breathe I was so turned on. He shifted his hips and rocked back and forth, and I sank deeper into him. His eyes opened.

  “It’s good,” he whispered. “You feel good.”

  “So do you,” I murmured.

  I linked our sticky hands together and kissed him as I began to thrust into him, finding a pace and a rhythm and my confidence all together as he moaned and gasped. The noises he made were so excited and needy
, each one sent a fresh jolt of lust through me. It didn’t take long before I was losing control and thrusting wildly. I took one of his hands and placed it on his dick.

  “Make yourself come,” I said, fighting to hold back my orgasm. He stroked himself a few times and then broke, spilling between us with a soft cry. The sight tipped me over the edge. A few desperate thrusts and I was coming too.

  After, he held me as I collected my breath.

  “It was good?” I asked him.

  He laughed, a lazy, sated sound. “So good.”

  “For me too.” I smiled. “You’ve never done that before?”

  He shook his head. “No. I had sex with a girl once. But that’s different. And with guys—well, before you there was no one I felt comfortable doing more than hand jobs or blowjobs with. And since I met you...” He trailed off, his face going soft like he was surprised. “Well, I’m a one-man guy now, aren’t I? I’m glad you were my first.”

  A lump formed in my throat as he said it. “Me too.” I managed. “I’m glad I got to be your first too. I love you, Ritchie.”

  He kissed me deep and slow, then said “I love you too.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sitting for Teri while she covered my scars with vines and words quickly became one of my favorite pastimes. The exquisite pain of the tattoo needle loosened something in me, and talking to Teri while she worked was easy. She didn’t judge me, even after seeing the damage I’d done to myself in extreme close up.

  “What have you and Ritchie got going on tonight?” She asked as she outlined a vine twisting alongside the veins of my forearm.

  “Ken and his boyfriend invited us over.” The bouncer at Bridgeview was a big, stoic guy who never said much to me, but he and Ritchie seemed to have an easy-going friendship. “I’m a little nervous.”

  “Ah.” Teri raised an eyebrow. “Ken’s all right. I’ve never met his guy.”

  “I don’t know a lot of gay men yet. I always wonder if I’m doing it wrong. Especially around big masc guys like Ken.”

  Teri laughed at that, holding the needle away from my skin. “There isn’t a right or wrong way to be queer, kiddo. Besides, you lived with X for a year—he’s basically an archetypal bear. Did you ever feel like you weren’t cool enough to hang out with him?”