Wish List by K.A. Mitchell
Somehow, he knew Evan really needed to hear it now.
“Evan.”
Evan turned his head to look at Jonah.
Jonah swallowed. “I love you.”
Evan’s features softened in that way Jonah knew was just for him, a slow smile, warm eyes crinkling. Evan put his hand on Jonah’s cheek and tipped him until their foreheads touched.
“Good. Because I love you, too, babe.” Evan rubbed his thumb along Jonah’s jaw, behind his ear. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Evan pulled Jonah onto his chest. “You never told me what you wanted.”
Jonah shrugged. “Couldn’t think of anything. Besides this.” He swept his hand down Evan’s flat stomach, fingers furrowing through the hair above his cock.
Evan caught Jonah’s wrist. “You already have that.”
“Can always have more.” Jonah raised his head to leer at Evan.
Evan pulled Jonah back down. “If you do figure out what you want, will you promise to tell me?” Evan’s tone wasn’t playful at all.
Jonah wrapped his arms around Evan’s chest and squeezed. “You’ll be the first to know—after me.”
Chapter Eight
Six garbage bags of wrapping paper, five pounds of oranges squeezed to juice, four hangovers, three dozen eggs, two tantrums from the under-eight set and one Murphy Christmas morning later, Jonah couldn’t wait to get in the car.
“Next year, have mimosas at breakfast,” Evan said to his mom as he kissed her goodbye.
“Screw that, I’m making Bloody Marys,” his mom muttered back, offering Jonah her cheek. “A pitcher of them. Right now.”
Kelly, one of the hangover victims, gave Jonah a sloppy hug, then clung to Evan for a few minutes, whispering.
Jonah only caught a few words, thanks, keep in touch, I’m sure he’s— before the rest of it was drowned out in the shrieks of two of the boys running through the foyer, knocking him back against the wall.
“He came.” Matt yanked open the front door. “Uncle Paul.” He barreled out and hugged the man on the front step, his younger brother following by half a step.
Jonah glanced around. He wasn’t the only adult who stood frozen, staring. Kelly’s back was to the door, and he was the first to move.
Paul put his hand on Matt’s head and set Connor on his feet. “I have to say hi to everybody else. Can you guys give me a sec?”
They might be kids, but they weren’t stupid. With glances around at the grown-ups, they sidled off.
“Kel?” Paul’s voice was hoarse.
“What? You thought of another way to humiliate me and ruin my life but you couldn’t do it over the phone?” Kelly snapped.
“No. Kel, I came to say I’m a complete ass—” he glanced up at Evan’s mother, “—idiot. The biggest idiot in the world.”
“No argument here.” Kelly folded his arms.
“I—can I come in?”
“Why?”
“Fine. I’ll grovel out here. Kelly, I love you, I do. I was just scared and I needed to be sure.” Paul dropped the bag over his shoulder and went down on his knees.
“For Christsake. I’m coming out.” Kelly stomped onto the step and shut the door behind him.
Damn. Jonah really wished he could hear the rest of this conversation.
“Well,” April said.
Evan’s father grunted and went back to cleaning up the kitchen.
“I think I will mix up that pitcher now,” Evan’s mother said. “I’m certain they won’t go to waste.”
April waved Jonah and Evan over to the bay window in the dining room. Jonah trotted after her, but Evan yanked him back.
“What?”
“Obviously Kelly doesn’t want an audience.”
Jonah kept replaying Paul’s words in his mind. I was scared and I needed to be sure. Had he meant about getting married? Because that was something Jonah would like a little more information on.
“Crap. They left in a car.” April let the curtain fall. “Do you think they’re going to work it out?”
“Do I look like a psychic?” Evan asked. He disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes. When he came back out, his face was set, unreadable. “You ready?” He turned to Jonah.
“You don’t want to wait?”
“I want to get home. There’s snow in Lee.”
“It’s always snowing in Lee,” Jonah grumbled but hoisted his bag up on his shoulder.
They were on the Massachusetts Turnpike when Evan said suddenly, “I know how it’s going to turn out.”
“Kelly and Paul, you mean?”
“Kelly will take him back. Paul pulled the same shit back when they were first dating, it’s why they opened the relationship up. But it’s been years. I thought he’d...grown up.”
“Are you saying Kelly shouldn’t take him back?”
“None of my business.” Evan shrugged, but the rapid tattoo of his fingers against the steering wheel said he had a different opinion.
Jonah was used to Evan’s quiet disapproval, had managed to learn what that tongue poking into his cheek meant when Jonah was dressed to go somewhere and Evan disapproved of the selection, or the way Jonah never knew exactly how much was in his checking account.
This was different. Evan was swallowing back something a lot bigger than a desire to say “You look like you slept in that shirt.”
Jonah thought back over the almost two years he’d known Evan and realized he’d never seen Evan really angry. Irritated, frustrated, pissy even, but not mad. This was the closest thing Jonah had ever seen. It left Jonah suffering something like the car sickness he used to get as a kid, when after anything over forty-five minutes in a car had made him yell to his mom to pull over. He wasn’t quite there yet, but it felt pretty close. No matter what 2top4u had to offer, it wasn’t worth this risk. He promised himself he’d ignore anything else the guy posted.
Neither guy made it easy though. Evan was distant the whole day, right on through the work week. Not rude, not withdrawn, but Jonah could see that whatever energy and polite smiles Evan summoned were as fake as the secretary at work’s new tits.
* * *
Beginning the day after Christmas and every night after, 2top4u sent a suggestion, an image or both, which were increasingly hard to ignore. Like a pic, the one with a copy of Jonah’s profile picture in his hand, the smile aimed at the man’s thick cock, which didn’t necessarily prove that it wasn’t a fake, but at least the picture hadn’t simply been ganked from someplace else on the internet.
And the post, Every time I think of that smile I want to put you on your knees for me.
A definite change from the profanity-laced text speak that usually passed for flirtation on the site.
Jonah had promised to tell Evan what he wanted when he figured it out. How was he supposed to figure it out unless he tried what he might want? If Evan had been acting the way he had at his parents’ house, pinning Jonah’s hands over his head, driving him crazy with those whispered commands, it might have been a little easier to test the waters with Evan without feeling like Jonah risked screwing up the best thing he’d ever had a chance.
After three days of no action, Jonah decided he wasn’t going to let Evan’s dick go into hibernation for the winter. Dragging himself out of bed, Jonah slipped into the shower to launch a stealth blowjob attack.
At first he thought Evan would push him away, but the hand on Jonah’s head slipped down to the back of his neck and dragged him forward as Evan came to life in Jonah’s mouth. The firm hand held him there as the blood-filled length started to crack his jaw and choke him, until he thought he’d have to squirm away because the water from the shower was filling his nose and he couldn’t breathe. Jonah tried to lift his head,
Evan didn’t let go, now he used his hips to control how much dick Jonah got in his mouth. The tease of Evan’s taste smeared across Jonah’s lips, a light plunge that was barely enough to let Jonah hollow his cheeks and suck.
Evan held himself away so that the tip of Jonah’s tongue could barely get at the slit, burying him in complete frustration as the shower washed away the taste Jonah craved. He started to shake his head free, but Evan cranked Jonah’s head back, forcing him to look up.
The polite mask Evan had been wearing was gone, but the face remained a stranger’s, hard, unmovable. Jonah’s dick throbbed between his thighs, the tip tingling from a pulse of precome.
Jonah’s neck strained from the way Evan was holding him. Unsure of what Evan wanted, Jonah rubbed his hands on his thighs, wondering if he should use his hand and mouth like he would normally. Evan shook his head.
Confused, Jonah blinked water out of his eyes, mind racing as he tried to figure out what was next. If Evan wanted to jack off in Jonah’s face, Evan would have to let go with one of his hands or use Jonah’s, or fuck his mouth and pull out. Or maybe Evan wanted to fuck now. They’d never seemed to get so freaking complicated before. Jonah’s dick felt as if it weighed fifty pounds, so damned heavy and aching for something. And Evan just wanted to do this staring thing?
Jonah swallowed and waited, which must have been the right thing to do because Evan’s fingers caressed and soothed the back of Jonah’s head, letting him relax to a more natural position. His thumbs rubbed along Jonah’s cheeks to his jaw, pulling his mouth open, which Jonah was only too willing to go along with.
Finally, he got the weight of Evan’s cock on his tongue, the feel of Evan sliding over his lower lip, the soft sponge of the head rubbing on the roof of Jonah’s mouth. God, it felt like he’d needed it forever. And the taste, Evan’s skin, the water from the shower, the bitter slide of precome, Jonah wanted to drink it all down, fill his throat with every last drop from Evan’s balls.
Evan had loosened his grip enough that Jonah could move, and between his mouth and Evan’s hips they found a rhythm. Jonah had to do a fast gulp and suck to keep the air going, and Evan groaned every time Jonah’s tongue and throat moved in time with a thrust. He was lost in it, lost in the quick exchange of cock and breath, everything slick with water and spit and those oily drops coming from the tip.
He wanted, no, he needed to reach for his own demanding dick, the pressure building from nothing more than Evan fucking Jonah’s mouth, but he didn’t want to lose his concentration. His jaw ached, and Evan’s thumbs were there, stroking away the pain, sliding up into the hollows of Jonah’s cheeks as Evan’s dick filled the space.
“God, that’s sweet, babe. You going to swallow it all for me? Take everything I give you?”
Jonah’s throat groaned his answer.
“Don’t move.”
Jonah couldn’t. Not with Evan’s hands locked around his head. Evan’s hips started rolling faster, pushing him deeper and deeper, and there was nothing, had never been anything but this cock in his throat, throbbing and swelling and stealing his air as his mouth flooded with come. Evan kept fucking into him and Jonah did his best to swallow around the thick flesh, letting the heavy bitter spurts slide down his throat.
When Evan pulled out, it was rough, and he never let go of Jonah’s head, shifting his grip to pull at Jonah’s hair, while stuffing the fingers of his other hand in Jonah’s mouth.
“Suck me, and jerk yourself off.”
That first touch on his cock felt so good, it only took a few strokes before the edge was right there. Evan’s fingers rubbed on his tongue, sliding in all the spit and come Jonah was still swallowing back. He felt he should warn him, or ask him, or something and glanced up to find Evan, the Evan Jonah loved, with his soft eyes and that sweet smile.
“Go. Do it.”
It was all in his balls and his thighs, heat snaking around and around until the tension snapped and pulsed along the length of his dick, leaving him breathless and wrung out, head dropping onto his chest as he watched the last shot spurt forward. He was rubbing out the aftershocks when the hot water gave out and they both jumped.
Evan slipped out first and Jonah suffered under a freezing rinse before stepping out into the towel Evan offered.
“You okay?” Evan asked.
Jonah’s knees were still shaking, his throat and jaw ached like he had the flu and tonsillitis and a wisdom tooth extraction all in the same day, and he was freezing, his balls the size of shelled peas, but he’d live. “Yeah.”
“I have to run to work. It’s a busy week. Loads of stuff for First Night.”
First Night. The village-wide New Year’s Eve party in Saratoga. New Year’s Eve, which Jonah had kind of thought he was spending in New York.
Jonah nodded.
“Want to go out to dinner tonight?” Evan asked.
“Yeah, that would be great.”
“I’ll be home before six.”
Evan was out of the house before Jonah pulled himself together enough to make it out of the bathroom.
* * *
Jonah loved working on school vacations. Doing IT was easier when there were no actual students or teachers in the buildings screwing with the computers. Schools should always be this peaceful. After lunch he got a call from the secretary, the older one, telling him he was needed in the main office right away.
The emergency turned out to be a bouquet of flowers addressed to Jonah, a huge bundle of bluish-purple orchids—which Jonah didn’t know until the secretary told him, with much motherly teasing. “We know it’s not your birthday yet. Open the card.”
Jonah held the envelope between his fingers. His first thought had been 2top4u, but that was crazy since the guy didn’t know Jonah’s real name, let alone where he worked. None of his family or friends would send him something like this, which left Evan. But why?
“Do orchids symbolize something?” Jonah asked.
“Yes,” the younger secretary said. “Expensive.”
Jonah opened the card. Sorry about this morning—Ev
What the hell was there to be sorry about? Sex so hot Jonah wanted to do that again every morning for the rest of their lives? Was there something Jonah had done that made Evan think he owed him an apology?
* * *
Jonah tried really hard to find a shirt that didn’t look like he’d slept in it to wear to dinner, which turned out to be at that new Northern Italian place in Clifton Park. Evan wore jeans and a sweater, so Jonah found one that didn’t make him feel as if he was auditioning for some kind of extra in a beer and ski commercial.
Over wine and bruschetta, Jonah said, “You didn’t have to get me flowers.”
Evan leaned back in his chair. “You’re welcome.”
“No, I mean, thank you, but—you—I—” Damn it. Jonah had never had trouble talking to Evan before. “You didn’t owe me an apology for anything.”
“I had to leave in a hurry.”
Jonah paused in the act of scooping up some extra tomatoes onto his bread. “You’re apologizing because we didn’t cuddle after sex?”
Evan offered a half smile. “I didn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate your efforts.”
As Jonah thought of Evan holding him, the way he’d taken control of not only Jonah’s orgasm this time but his breath, the heat started in his groin and flashed all the way up to his throat. He knew the skin in the V-neck of his sweater had to be bright red. Evan was staring at it. If he li
Jonah chewed his bruschetta to give himself some cooling-off time, then said, “I’ve given you lots of blowjobs. Never got flowers before.”
“Was that what that was?” Evan put his forearms on the table. “Just a blowjob?”
See, that was the thing Jonah needed to know. Was this something Evan understood, knew how to do or was it a flukey thing? And how was Jonah supposed to figure that out or know that he could do the forever thing with Evan if Jonah needed this, and Evan was the sort of person who felt he owed flowers because a blowjob had gotten a little—a lot—rough. Jonah had wanted every second of that this morning, and more. He was afraid he wanted the whole thing, the leather and the chains and the guy with no name and the chaps.
And he just couldn’t see Evan doing that or being able to take him seriously if he did. Evan was all pressed khakis and shirts from the cleaners, and Jonah loved that Evan. Jonah loved the way Evan was kind of letting it slide a little and going wild with Jonah the past couple of days, but was that going to be enough?
Evan picked up his glass of Barolo and tilted it but didn’t drink it.
Jonah was already on his second glass. It was smooth and rich and Jonah had never heard of it, which made him extra glad Evan was the only one who’d seen the wine list with the prices.
Jonah finally answered Evan’s question. “A really hot blowjob.”
Evan glanced at him and took a sip of wine. “Uh-huh.”
“I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”
“Me either.” Evan used a spoon to load a piece of toast with the tomatoes. He lifted it in the center of the table, almost as if he were going to feed it to Jonah. He found himself leaning forward, but Evan brought the bruschetta to his own mouth, a half smile as he chewed, suggesting he’d known exactly what Jonah had been thinking.