Always Waiting: The League, Book 3 Page 8

  I pursed my lips and said, “I’m sorry. It’s just how I am.”

  Sven held a finger up to my lips and said, “Don’t be. It’s not a criticism. Actually, I think it’s a compliment.” Then he asked, “What did you bring?”

  I asked, “Did you eat already?”

  “Yeah, I had a small dinner, but that doesn’t matter. You should have figured out by now that I can eat almost any time of day.”

  With a gentle laugh, I said, “First, before I pull out the food, there’s something I want to do. Get up and kick off your shoes.”

  I stood up from the blanket and stepped out of the flip flops I’d worn to the beach. Sven had to remove both sneakers and socks. “Now what?” he asked.

  “Come with me to the edge of the water.” I jogged across the sand until I stood ankle deep in the waves that surged on to the shore.

  Sven followed me and then he yelped when the waves hit his feet saying, “Oh, fuck, that’s cold.”

  “Sheesh, sometimes you’re such a little princess, Sven. I love it.” Then I crooked my finger to gesture for him to come closer.

  He wrapped his arms tight around his chest to show me that he was cold, but he followed my instructions and stepped closer. I grabbed his wrists and pulled the arms open so I could wrap him in a tight hug. Then I kissed him with plenty of tongue. It didn’t take long for Sven to forget about the cold water rushing over his feet.

  Kissing Sven in the moonlight with the lights of the city nearby while standing in the edge of Lake Michigan was one of the most romantic things I’d ever experienced. When I pulled back from the kiss, I asked, “Is it okay now?”

  He said, “I think this princess has found her prince.”

  I threw my head back and laughed and said, “You’re just as crazy as me, Sven. Honestly, at heart you are.” I gripped his hand and led him back toward the blanket.

  We sat down and I began to pull the food out of a cooler. Sven smiled when he saw fried chicken, cole slaw, and half a dozen biscuits with plenty of butter and honey to slather on them. He said, “Damn, you did well, Lowell.”

  I shrugged and said, “It’s not homemade, obviously, but it will taste good. I did bring something homemade for dessert, and it stretched the the limit of my cooking skills.”

  “What’s that?” asked Sven.

  I grinned and said, “Brownies.”

  “It’s a feast,” said Sven. Then I laughed again when he settled himself further on to the blanket and laid his head back against my lap. He said, “I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “For you to feed me. Isn’t that what you planned?”

  I rolled my eyes, but I had to admit to myself that feeding Sven while he was lying on my lap with my hard cock pushed into the back of his head was pretty damn sexy. I pulled out a chicken leg and offered it to his lips.

  He took a bite, chewed, swallowed, and then said, “This really would be easier if I fed it to myself. I guess it only really works if you’re feeding me grapes.”

  I said, “I really really hate to say this but are you chicken-ing out?”

  A heavy groan erupted from Sven’s chest and he sat up. We both dug into the fried chicken and ate it on our own. Then, after I polished off both a thigh and a leg, Sven gripped my hand and pulled it to his mouth so that he could suck my fingers clean.

  I murmured, “Oh, fuck, that’s hot.”

  We ate quickly and Sven began to use his hands for more than just eating. I found it harder and harder to concentrate on the meal. I managed to eat one full biscuit and a forkful of the cole slaw.

  Sven was busy eating, sucking my fingers and pawing at my body. He was sexy as hell, and I wanted even more. Finally, I asked, “Should we leave the beach behind?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Your place?” I asked.

  He started to pack the food up immediately and said, “I think that sounds perfect.”

  * * *

  We left a trail through Sven’s house. I stashed the food in his refrigerator as he shoved his big hands up under my T-Shirt and began to pull it off over my head. His shirt landed in the middle of the living room floor.

  I unzipped his jeans before we climbed the stairs, and they fell off his hips halfway up. Then he sat on the stairs and tugged them off leaving them behind. By the time we reached the top of the stairs, he was naked except for fire-engine-red boxer briefs that clung tightly to his muscular round ass.

  Sven threw open the door to his bedroom. There was not much decoration. Instead, it just looked comfortable and relaxing with a queen-sized bed placed on a low platform. He turned toward me and said, “You’re losing those shorts, Lowell.”

  Sven pressed his bare chest up against mine as he hooked his thumb and forefingers in the waistband and pushed the shorts down and off. I stepped out of them just in time for Sven to tug at my briefs, too. I inhaled sharply and bit my lip when I realized he had stripped me completely naked.

  Sven growled, “Lay down or I’m gonna throw you down.”

  The roughness in his voice made me rock hard. I lay back on the bed with my head on the pillow and watched as he pulled down the boxer briefs. Sven’s cock was big like every other part of his body. It was thick, and it was long, too. I gasped not knowing whether I could take it all. I assumed I would be the one taking it and not the other way around.

  I didn’t have much time to contemplate those questions. Sven took over. My breath caught in my throat when he slid up between my legs, wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the base of my cock and then kissed the head. He followed the kiss by sliding his tongue in a circle around the rim before sucking just the head into his mouth.

  I whimpered, and Sven pulled off asking if it was okay. I said, “Oh fuck, yeah. I just didn’t…”

  My voice trailed off, and Sven said, “I’m going to fuck you, too.” Then he added, “If that’s okay.”

  I felt myself start to babble. I said, “Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s good. I mean, I’m vers and all, but if you want.” Then I looked again and said, “But you are so fuckin’ big. I don’t know if, oh, damn, I want to…” I couldn’t believe how I was babbling.

  Sven sucked on the head again and then pulled back. Looking at me he said, “I’ll go slow. I’m not a virgin, Lowell, and I know, I always have to go slow, but I bet it will be worth it.”

  Sven’s confidence in bed was already driving me insane. I was used to guys who seemed to fumble through everything and needed a long conversation before we figured out who was going to try to fuck who. Sven knew exactly what he wanted.

  He sucked more of my cock into his mouth, his tongue swirling its way around the head until he swallowed it even deeper into his mouth. I clung to the bedspread beneath me and let out a long, deep moan as I stared at his blond hair bobbing up and down on me.

  Sven pulled off my cock with an audible popping noise and then smiled at me. He said, “Condoms in the nightstand.”

  I reached to my side, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his handsome face. Pulling the drawer open, I was relieved that it seemed like condoms were the only thing in the nightstand. I didn’t have to roll over and shuffle through a bunch of stuff to find what I needed. Instead I just pulled out one package and handed it to him.

  As he rolled the condom down over his thick, heavy cock, Sven said, “Lube in the other nightstand.” It was like he was giving orders, but there was no barking, no unnecessary power plays. I reached into the other drawer and pulled out a small bottle of lube.

  He asked, “Are you ready for this, Lowell?” as he squirted a sizable puddle of lube into his hand.

  I said, “Fuck, I hope so. I cleaned out before I left home. I thought we just might do this sometime tonight.”

  He showed off those perfect white teeth again as he said, “Yeah, we were thinking the same thing.”

  Sven tossed the bottle of lube in the floor and gripped my thighs pulling me forward and sliding me across the bedspread. He pushed
my legs back and upward then threw my ankles over his shoulders. Sven was easily the most handsome man I’d ever gone to bed with, and he was going to fuck me. I was already floating somewhere at least fifty feet above the earth. I bit my lip and stared at that huge cock.

  It hurt…at first, but Sven made it work. I pushed out and he pushed forward until his head popped past my ring. My entire body shuddered, and I clenched my teeth to avoid yelling out.

  When the spasms stopped, it started to feel good, and then it felt really good. My entire body felt full up to my neck. I was full with Sven and that magnificent cock. He rocked forward and back, and I could see the sweat pop out on his smooth skin then roll in a little rivulet down the center of his sculpted chest.

  When I finally couldn’t resist yelling any more, it came out in words, “Sven! Fuck! So fuckin’ good! Sven!”

  He countered with grunts and guttural moans. He closed his eyes tight and pounded hard. Then he opened them again and grinned at me. He grunted and said, “You’re so fuckin’ amazing Lowell.”

  When his fingers closed around my cock it almost sent me over the edge immediately. He began to pump my cock and pound my ass at the same time. The rhythm was the same, and I tried to hold back as my body rolled forward to the edge.

  I yelped, “I’m close! Fuck, Sven!”

  In a strangled voice, he cried, “Me, too!” and then his whole body was convulsing. Sven’s cock was shooting, and his body was wracked by a powerful orgasm.

  I yelled out, “Ahhh FUCCKKK!” and then my cock erupted. I shot hard and the first ropes of cum landed on Sven’s magnificent chest. Then I continued to shoot hitting his belly and then oozing out and down over my cock and his fingers.

  He grunted and said, “Weeks! I’ve been waiting for this for weeks!”

  13

  Sven

  It was starting to feel more like summer outside. The evenings were warmer and more humid. Ian and Blake invited me to another cookout at their place, and, fortunately, Lowell was busy with one of his occasional evenings at work. I didn’t want him to feel slighted, but I did enjoy time with my friends. Lowell and I were spending almost every work-free evening together.

  I put together another quick fluff salad to take to the cookout. This time I flavored it with tangerine, and it was a bright orange color. Grabbing a few beers from the refrigerator and stuffing them into a small cooler, I piled into my car and drove across town to Ian and Blake’s house.

  Driving across the bridge from Bayview to the East Side, I realized that I was missing Lowell already. We needed to let the world know that we were really a couple and encourage invitations for the two of us together.

  “Hey, Sven, good to see you, buddy! You look like you’re feeling good.” Reggie was the first to greet me and gave me a big hug. Then he pushed a beer into my free hand.

  Blake stepped up and held out his hands for the salad. He asked, “Is it cranberry again?”

  I said, “No, I switched to tangerine.”

  Blake shrugged, “It’s still marshmallows and fruit. That works for me.”

  I looked around and asked, “Where’s Connor?”

  Reggie said, “He’s got an evening job tonight. He’s probably swinging from the rafters about now hanging up the lights.” Then he scratched his chin. “Actually, that was likely this afternoon. Now he’s probably testing everything for the show. His favorite part is hanging like a monkey in a harness eighty feet above the floor. It gives me the creeps to even think about it.”

  I said, “I think that would freak me out a little bit, too.”

  Blake said, “Me, too. I’ll stick with slinging the drinks on the ground.”

  Ian joined us on the back deck with a platter full of meat. I asked, “Are those steaks?”

  He said, “Yeah, I thought it might be fun to have something a little more upscale than burgers and dogs. Does it work for you, Sven? I figured I would slather on a little barbecue sauce at the end. Blake made it from scratch.”

  I started to say, “Blake made…,” and I got a sharp elbow in the side. I grinned and said, “It sounds perfect.”

  “So how’s the summer treating you?” asked Reggie. “This is your first one in Milwaukee, isn’t it?”

  I said, “No, Stuart and I got here in the spring last year. I have to admit, though, that I didn’t really pay much attention to the weather. We were so miserable that we just hung out in the house and spent time either arguing or being bored. I guess that now it technically is still spring, but I love the breeze off the lake. Some days it’s almost a little too breezy where my house is, but that’s better than the hot, still, muggy days we had in the summer in Minnesota.”

  Blake asked, “Where is your house again?”

  I said, “I’m down in Bayview. I’m just about three blocks from the lake.”

  Blake nodded, took a swig of his beer, and then asked, “Where is that?”

  Reggie looked at Blake and laughed. Ian said, “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s been here over a year, and if it’s not between here and the Toolbox, he doesn’t know where it is.”

  I said, “You know that big arched bridge you see right out at the lake? You can see it from I-94 when it makes its big curve at downtown.”

  Blake said, “Oh, yeah. I’ve always wondered where that goes. You’re on the other end of the bridge?”

  I grinned and said, “Yep, I’m on the other end. I should invite you all over sometime.”

  Reggie said, “But, by the way you talk, your house is a safety hazard. I’m a little worried something might fall off and hit me in the head.”

  With a heavy sigh, I said, “I think I’ve got that turned around. I got the contractor to fix a few things, and Lowell has been helping out, too.”

  “Oh that’s right, Lowell,” said Ian. “How is that going?”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Perfect. I was meaning to ask something. The next time you invite me for a cookout, can you invite Lowell, too?”

  Reggie piped up immediately saying, “Of course they can. If they let me in, they’ll let anyone in.”

  Blake turned toward me and said, “And that comment really is at least half true.”

  Ian turned the steaks over and they sizzled on the grill. He asked, “How do you like yours cooked, Sven?”

  I said, “Medium rare.”

  Ian said, “Good man. That’s the way a man’s steak is supposed to be cooked. Blake prefers for me to turn his into shoe leather.”

  Blake was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, and I thought he was falling asleep, but he opened one eye and said, “Hey! I don’t want to hear the cow moo when I stab it with a knife.”

  Reggie said, “Medium rare for me, too. I know how to eat properly.”

  The food was great. Reggie brought a potato salad, and Blake tossed together a green salad. We gathered around the table in Ian and Blake’s kitchen. We were all so busy eating at first that the table was nearly silent.

  Ian spoke up and asked, “So Lowell really is treating you well?”

  I said, “I’ve never dated anyone like him before. Well, except for the one time we dated in college, but I don’t even really remember what happened then.”

  Reggie said, “I guess he would be a little different. I don’t mean that as an insult, but Lowell isn’t an ordinary guy.”

  Ian raised an eyebrow and asked, “Like you are, Reggie?”

  Reggie shook his head. “I never said I was normal.”

  Blake asked, “So have you gone out much? Do you just go to dinner? Or movies?”

  I looked around the table and for a moment I wasn’t sure how much to tell. Then I realized they were my closest friends in Milwaukee aside from Lowell, and I was proud of us doing things that were more interesting and exciting than what I thought most people did.

  “Dinner with a candelabra on the beach?” I had just described the official first date, and Reggie repeated it in disbelief.

  I smiled and said, “Yep. The food
he brought was just KFC, but it was so good. He fed it to me.”

  Ian put his fork down and said, “Now that’s sexy.”

  “Well, then, why don’t you feed me?” asked Blake.

  Ian said, “Aww, sexy, I didn’t really think of it, but we’ll have to put it on the list.”

  I said, “We went to a polka bar, too.”

  Blake asked, “What’s that?”

  Ian grinned. “Oh, those are fun. There are still bars in Milwaukee where you can go and drink and eat and dance to polka music.”

  “Seriously?” asked Blake. “I remember when we did the polka in junior high. I had to dance with that mean, ugly Linda Yates girl.”

  “You mean you didn’t find a boy to dance with, Blake?” asked Reggie.

  Blake gave him the side eye. “I didn’t really have a good idea that I was into guys until I was fifteen.”

  “And then what happened? One of your good buddies gave you a kiss?”

  “Do you really wanna know, Reggie?” asked Blake.

  Reggie said, “I always wanna know. You’re one of my sexiest friends.”

  Blake said, “I jerked off watching Baywatch, and it wasn’t about the boobs.”

  We all laughed hard. Reggie said, “But please tell me it wasn’t Daddy Hasselhoff either.”

  Blake smirked and said, “No, it wasn’t.”

  “So how was the polka bar?” asked Ian.

  I said, “It was a whole lot of fun. There were people there across all ages, and I danced with a few women, and then nobody blinked an eye when Lowell and I danced together.

  Reggie said, “That does sound like fun.”

  I added, “We’ve gone bowling, too. It was at this tiny old alley where these teenage guys still set the pins up by hand.”

  Blake said, “Damn, you’ve got the coolest boyfriend, Sven. Why don’t we do fun stuff like that, Ian?”

  Ian sighed and said, “Maybe because you don’t think of it?”

  Blake asked, “Why’s it gotta be me?”

  “I didn’t know you liked bowling,” said Ian.