The Sweetest Scent Part 26

But Bro wasn't done, not by a long shot. "Not yet, baby." Then he went right back to his meal, and his hands kneaded Lacey's a.s.s cheeks so roughly, they would be bruised for weeks. Yet every sensation given, even the squeezing pain, only heightened his pleasure.

Lacey shook all over, unable to catch his breath, and his heart thudded. He let out a whimper that tried to be a coherent plea but ended up a moaning gurgle.

When Bro pulled back, just an inch or so, Lacey suddenly felt cold liquid touching his hole, circling it. Lube Lube. Lacey closed his eyes tighter and pushed back against the gentle brush.

But Bro wasn't having any of Lacey's urgency. Every time Lacey tried to shove back to get that teasing finger in, Bro withdrew.

Then he just couldn't take it anymore. "d.a.m.n it, Bro! If you don't give it to me now, I'm never speaking to you again!"

Bro stilled for a second. Then that smug chuckle sounded. "Guess you're ready, then."

Lacey was about to give the flippant boy his comeuppance when that wet digit, warmer now, pressed on his sphincter, insistently this time. Unfortunately, against the weight of it, Lacey's hole clamped shut tight.

"No...," he complained, his voice m.u.f.fled into the pillow.

"It's okay, Lace. Just relax. I won't hurt you." Bro's soft, crooning voice was unlike anything Lacey had heard before. Bro's other hand came to rest on the small of Lacey's back, and it was as if a connection was drawn. A line of fire between his two hands, and that warmth spread all over Lacey, easing the sudden tension.

Then he heard yet another new sound. A wet suction, as if his a.s.s was trying to get the invader in. A pop rang in his ears when he felt Bro's finger slip inside.

Lacey shivered. He'd expected pain, but there was none. Yes, a mild discomfort and a strong urge to push out, but no pain. "H-how far in...?"

"Just the tip." Lacey heard the strain in Bro's hoa.r.s.e voice, and he peered at Bro over his shoulder. Bro was staring down, rapt, undoubtedly at the point where they merged. There was perspiration all over his tanned skin, and his muscles were taut. He was concentrating deeply, and yet the l.u.s.t was fully visible in his eyes, now dark as midnight skies.

He wants this as much as I do, maybe more. That thought gave Lacey enough courage and comfort to loosen up entirely.

Then Bro's finger entered him all the way. Lacey felt him greasing the walls of his a.s.s, lubing him up for more. G.o.d, there was gonna be more. He pressed his face against the comforter and closed his eyes, sighing with contentment.

"You okay, Lace?" Bro asked, his voice raspy and breathy. His hand on Lacey's back trembled. Perhaps his control was waning too.

"Yes. It feels good."

"Yeah?" Bro sounded happy and relieved. It occurred to Lacey maybe they had both worried about doing this, just differently. Lacey had felt anxious about penetration, about pain, about lasting effects. Now he realized Bro must have dreaded the idea too, only that he wouldn't be able to give Lacey pleasure, to make their first time good, to have them enjoy this first time.

"Oh, yes. Please, Bro. Give me more."

Bro hesitated, his finger stilling inside Lacey. "You sure?"

Lacey nodded. "I'm sure. Want more."

He heard Bro taking a deep breath and then felt him easing another finger against the lubed-up entrance. Then he pushed in.

Oh, pain. Lacey closed his eyes tight, gritted his teeth, and willed his body not to try to run. It would feel good again soon, right? He'd always wondered what the burning sensation meant. Now he knew. It was as if someone was holding a flame to all the nerve endings of his entire body at the same time, and then adding pressure to them, more and more weight until he thought he was going to climb the walls just to get away.

But then he heard Bro's timid voice. "You okay? Does this hurt?"

Trust and love overwhelmed Lacey, like soothing waters cascading over the wildfire. The pain eased as he relaxed. "Yes. Yes. I'm all right. Just took a moment, is all. I'm fine."

Lacey more felt than saw Bro release the breath he was holding. "Thank G.o.d."

Then his fingers began to move again. First in and out, but then swiveling around a bit. It was the most curious sensation. Lacey couldn't think, only feel. His imagination about this part of his anatomy getting probed and felt up by another person had been lacking. This was so so much better in real life. It took an act of faith, of both trust in Bro and confidence in himself, to give them this experience. much better in real life. It took an act of faith, of both trust in Bro and confidence in himself, to give them this experience.

Bro twisted his fingers inside Lacey, and it felt d.a.m.n good. A strange kind of heat and pressure, but good nonetheless. Then again, this was only two fingers. How on earth was a thick hard c.o.c.k like Bro's ever going to fit in?

"Where is it...?" Bro muttered, his tone impatient and frustrated.

Where's what? Lacey frowned in puzzlement. Then his fried brain provided the needed information. Right, the prostate. Lacey frowned in puzzlement. Then his fried brain provided the needed information. Right, the prostate.

And at that exact moment, Bro found what he was looking for. His fingers b.u.mped on Lacey's sweet spot.

"Oh my effing G.o.d!" he cried out. His body jolted when electricity shot through him and consumed him in flames. His groin was lit up like a Christmas tree when the lights were flipped on, and his d.i.c.k shot out precome in a spurt. G.o.d, I almost came G.o.d, I almost came.

Bro chuckled a bit, panting. "Oh yeah. Right there, huh?"

"Please, do it again." Lacey wasn't above begging, not when that much pleasure was in his grasp.

So Bro did. With relentless fingers, he doled out so much attention on Lacey's prostate there was no doubt about coming. In fact, Lacey was right there, hurtling into the unknown of the kind of s.e.x he'd only ever dreamt about. Why haven't we done this sooner? Why haven't we done this sooner? But he knew they hadn't been ready before. Every time they touched, the fiery urgency was there, controlling their instincts, pushing them to come. Patience was something they'd had to learn. But he knew they hadn't been ready before. Every time they touched, the fiery urgency was there, controlling their instincts, pushing them to come. Patience was something they'd had to learn.

"Oh, G.o.d, yes," Lacey groaned and started to shove his a.s.s back toward the hand that was giving him such delight.

"You like?" Bro sounded pleased with himself again, and that self-a.s.surance definitely calmed all of Lacey's fears. His lover was giving him time, attention, tenderness, and enjoyment beyond belief.

"Yes. Yes. Yes! Yes!"

Then Bro shifted his fingers so he was able to stroke in and out while simultaneously pressing his thumb against Lacey's perineum. He was pushing on that secret s.e.x b.u.t.ton inside and out. Lacey was pretty much mewling then, letting out half gasps, half keening noises.

Lacey moved up his knees so he was essentially shoving his a.s.s up and back for Bro's taking. That move also allowed him to fist his own c.o.c.k and beat it in time with those agile fingers inside him, owning him. His hips worked involuntarily, thrusting back and forth on pure instinct.

"Mmm, nice." Bro's compliment only added to Lacey's desire. Then Bro used his other hand to grab Lacey's b.a.l.l.s, the sac wound up tight and high, ready to blow. "Love your b.a.l.l.s. So cute."

"Huh?" Lacey thought he might have misheard, but his squeak was loud and angry.

Bro chuckled and planted a sloppy, wet, hot open-mouthed kiss on Lacey's left cheek. "You heard me. Your b.a.l.l.s are so pretty. All pink and tight and small."

Now Lacey was getting p.i.s.sed. What guy wanted to be told his b.a.l.l.s were tinier than a bug's p.e.n.i.s? He wasn't that much of a girl, pet.i.te or no. "Get off me, you oaf."

Bro wouldn't let up. "I love you, Lace. I love how your b.a.l.l.s are the perfect size for me. I can always get them in my mouth at the same time. Love that about you."

And just like that, Lacey's righteous fury evaporated, and he was left with a mushy, happy feeling centered on his chest. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

But grumbling never worked with Bro, who laughed. "Love you, baby."

And then he dipped his head and licked Lacey's b.a.l.l.s from behind.

That, Bro's words, and his fingers on Lacey's sweet spot was all it took.

Lacey shouted, eyes screwed shut, and started coming. His c.o.c.k twitched and jerked as his b.a.l.l.s drew up and released all that pent-up s.e.xual tension and white seed out through the slit onto his hand. He kept coming for ages, spilling out jets of s.e.m.e.n with every spasm, again and again, until his b.a.l.l.s and d.i.c.k were wrung dry and his groin hurt from the exertion. He had nothing more to give, so he slumped on the bed, whimpering.

"f.u.c.k, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen."

Lacey barely heard Bro's words through the drumming in his ears, but he was pretty sure Bro's fingers had dislodged from inside him. He felt empty, almost bereft at the loss.

What he also felt, curiously, was his wet cheeks. I just cried through an o.r.g.a.s.m I just cried through an o.r.g.a.s.m. It was a heady realization. He had never blubbered during s.e.x. Lacey had to admit this time Bro had really hit a home run. As surrept.i.tiously as possible, he wiped the remaining moisture away.

Not only did he need to reciprocate, he wanted to.

With a groan and protesting muscles, Lacey rolled over slowly onto his back. Bro was sitting on his haunches at the foot of the bed, a goofy grin gracing his lips, and his glazed-over eyes sparkled.

"You okay, Lace?" His concerned words belied his complacent stance.

Lacey opened his mouth, but only harsh breaths came out. He felt flushed all over, his skin sparking and tingling. "Mmm-hmm." Then he weakly started to force himself to sit up.

"What are you doing?" Bro stopped Lacey with a hand on his thigh.

Lacey looked up at his eyes. "Don't you want to...?"

Bro looked amused and bemused, tilting his head. "Want to get fingered, or to come? 'Cause I already did the latter."

Confused, his eyebrows rising to his hairline, Lacey looked down. Bro's p.e.n.i.s lay on the groove of his hip, limp and sated, with white blotches of come on it, on his thigh and belly, and on the sheets. "You came...."

Bro chuckled and nodded, surprised. "Yeah, I did. While I had my finger in your a.s.s. That was the most amazing thing I've ever had the privilege of witnessing. If I thought you could muster up the strength, I'd do it to all over again."

Lacey gulped, wide-eyed. The buzz in his body was getting louder as Bro added fuel to the fire with his enticing words. "I...."

Bro laughed, shaking his head. "I'm gonna get us both cleaned up, and then we can get some sleep, yeah?" He bounced up on his feet, happy as a clam. Just as he opened the bedroom door to go across the hall to the bathroom, he turned around and stared at Lacey with pride. "I'd say that was a successful test, wouldn't you?"

Lacey laughed too, though still trying to catch his breath. "I'll be up for more research whenever." Then he stretched like a feline. "Well, after a nap, that is."

Even after closing his eyes and beginning to drift off, Lacey heard Bro's chuckle from down the hall. And as annoyingly self-satisfied as his boy was, that sound still made Lacey's heart fly.

Chapter 24.

"WE SHOULD SHOULD form a band," Parker announced out of the blue. form a band," Parker announced out of the blue.

In shock, Lacey glanced over her shoulder to the backseat, where Parker sat next to a displeased, grumpy-looking Deacon. "What?"

Parker smiled charmingly. "The past two weeks of practicing for this shindig has gone extremely well, hasn't it? You must all admit the four of us work well together."

Lacey sat back in her seat, wondering if that was indeed true. From a certain point of view, it was. They had created a set where each instrument-violin, piano, drums, and sax-got its chance to shine. And from the planning stage to the practical, it had all gone off without a hitch. So maybe there was a grain of truth in Parker's statement.

Still, where Parker and Spenser Wilc.o.x raved about jazz, Deacon leaned toward rock, and Lacey was never going to abandon cla.s.sical. As a band, their music wouldn't be a fashionable eclectic fusion, but a mishmash of clashing styles, all desiring to be dominant.

"Parker, we might have been in sync during practice, but putting together a group out of people with such varying interests wouldn't get very far," she said, appealing to his reason.

Parker snorted. "Aw, you're no fun. Always focusing on the negative."

"I do not," Lacey denied, pouting at the accusation.

She turned to see what their driver, Spenser, the third-year sax player, thought about the discussion. But the ma.s.sive black guy with dyed red hair had his white earbuds in, hooked up to his iPod, and his head was nodding slightly, moving to the music. Clearly, he was above such petty conversation. In fact, when he'd first met Lacey, he had given her a contemptuous look-not of disgust at the pet.i.te queer boy in a dress, but of his disdain at having to play with first-year students. What a sn.o.b, Lacey had thought. Yet she had to admit he played the sax rather well.

"Seriously though," Parker continued after a brief silence. "Wouldn't it be fun to travel the country and play, just for the fun of it?" A hint of longing tinted his tone.

Lacey felt for him. "Could you, or any of us, just pack up and leave to play gigs at bars and small stages all over the country? Come on, Parker. Be reasonable. What about your studies and degree? What about your family and friends?"

Parker stared out the window, his face blank. Lacey was worried she'd gone too far. It wasn't her business to shoot down his dreams. She was ashamed of herself.

But Parker spoke first. "My parents love me, but they ignore me."

"Oh, Parker. I'm so sorry." Now Lacey felt even worse, and she shrunk into the seat.

Parker shrugged, making a noncommittal noise in his throat. "Doesn't matter, and sure doesn't bear mentioning. Poor little rich boy is such a cliche." His voice took on a mocking tone.

But Lacey had her own reasons for feeling empathy with her friend. "It's nothing to sneer at, Parker. At least they love you. That's something."

"Is it?" Parker said sharply. "I sense a story there." Lacey didn't need to turn around to feel Deacon fidgeting in his seat. Naturally, Parker noticed. "What's the matter with you? Ants in your pants?" Deacon's harsh, quickening breathing was full of emotions held back, and Parker just had to go poking the sleeping bear. "Does all this family talk make you uncomfortable? Or maybe it's Lacey who gets under your skin so?" His voice lilted at the end, a decidedly feminine quirk.

"Must you be so...?" Deacon spat out, angry. But at least he didn't finish.

"So-what, Mr. Rake? Garish, gaudy, flaming, flamboyant, outspoken, opinionated, smart, funny, stunning? Do tell." Parker was just getting started, and Lacey cringed. They were both big boys and could handle themselves. Should she still cut in and play peacemaker?

Deacon said nothing, just sat there ramrod straight, seething quietly.

Parker didn't leave it at that. "This Neanderthal act is so tedious. These grunts and all that rage? You're going to blow a blood vessel or a brain cell. Tell me, Mr. Rake. So-what?"

"So obvious!" Deacon shouted. He was so angry, he was shaking. Lacey could see it in the mirror.

But Parker was not deterred. "Oh? As opposed to your is-he-or-isn't-he act?"

Deacon was stunned. "My what?"

Then they were both snapping loudly and vehemently at each other, their rising voices evenly matched, and Lacey couldn't distinguish a single word from the argument.

Spenser shook his head and pursed his lips in obvious vexation. "Kids."

Depressed, Lacey sunk deeper into her seat, sighed, and prayed they would reach their destination within the next five minutes, before the two guys in the backseat killed each another.

TWO hours later, the party at Professor Marchand's sw.a.n.ky mansion was in full swing. hours later, the party at Professor Marchand's sw.a.n.ky mansion was in full swing.

Even while busy playing her violin, Lacey recognized several faces from the society pages and gossip columns. She'd had no idea the professor was so well connected, but with the level of charm and sophistication he sported, it made sense. Academics and artists today needed to network and expand their circles of colleagues and allies. That was in Lacey's future too.