[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Romance, M/M, sex toys, HEA]
Catching a Phoenix was just the beginning.
Sinfully sexy and intriguingly smart but highly strung and neurotic best-selling author Jazz Spencer, aka JS Phoenix, isn't one to be kept easily. He wants love but doesn't know how to live his happy ever after now that he has found it with Ryan Holmes, who, deeply infatuated with him, would do anything for Jazz—if only he knew how to keep his precious Phoenix.
Just as it seems that Ryan is finally getting somewhere with Jazz, things take a dramatic turn and Ryan finds himself brokenhearted after yet another breakup. He is certain that they will never meet again until one day, Jazz returns into his life, ready to start all over.
As Ryan unveils Jazz’s secrets, he is determined not to let him escape again. Going all in, he shows Jazz exactly how much he's wanted—with astonishing results.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Jazz insisted they take showers separately. Ryan accepted grudgingly, having secretly hoped to get Jazz to play some more in the shower. Emerging from the bathroom after about ten minutes, black hair damp and sticking up on end, Jazz had a towel wrapped too low around his slender hips. His skin was still glistening with moisture, and he looked clean, delicious, and perfectly beddable.
Trying to think unsexy thoughts, Ryan swallowed hard and suppressed the urge to just grope and jump him again. Jazz had fulfilled his part of the deal with admirable excellence, so now it was Ryan’s turn to keep his promise.
“So what now?” he asked, hoping Jazz had at least a little bit more of a clue than he did, which was none at all.
“Let’s get dressed and go have breakfast,” Jazz said calmly. “I’m starved.”
Throwing him a surprised glance, Ryan shrugged then grinned when a thought struck him. “Would you like to borrow some clothes?”
Jazz smiled back at him. “Thanks for the offer, but I guess yesterday’s will have to do. I don’t think I’d fit into yours.”
Ryan chuckled at the thought of tall, slender Jazz wearing his jeans. They probably wouldn’t even stay up. Which would not be too bad, actually.
“Okay. I just made some fresh coffee seeing as the last got cold. Do you want some now?”
“Yes, please. With—”
“About three-quarters of an inch of semi-skimmed milk, to be poured into the mug first and stirred ’cause it doesn’t blend pwoperly otherwise, right?” Ryan grinned and earned himself a very surprised and quite confused glance out of dark-brown eyes.
“How d’you know?”
“I noticed when we had breakfast together.”
“But that was...” Jazz started quietly, frowned, and stopped. Only one time really, over six months ago. Ryan knew they were thinking the same thought, and, judging from the expression on his face, Jazz knew it, too.
Feeling a little embarrassed, Ryan tried for a casual smile. “I just...noticed. I suppose it struck me that you take real milk instead of cream and, ah, well, you know.”
Jazz still had that bewildered expression on his face, so Ryan explained a bit more. “Well, you kind of kicked a fuss with your mother about her having put full-fat milk in your coffee again.” He knew he’d managed a rather impressive imitation of Jazz’s drawl when Jazz raised his eyebrows.
“I noticed that you take quite a lot of it, too, so there you go,” Ryan added a little awkwardly.
Jazz nodded slowly, the look in his eyes unreadable. “I’ll just put my clothes on. I’ll be with you in a minute.” He headed to the bedroom until Ryan stopped him with a soft, “Jazz?”
“Yeah?” Jazz half turned around.
“You do know that most of your clothes are still in the, uh, living room?”
A soft smile started tugging at the corners of Jazz’s mouth. “Yeah, right. Especially the things that I’ll have to put on first. I’m just not used to keeping my clothes in the living room, but well, I guess I’ll just start there and then see about the rest.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Ryan winked and turned back to the kitchen to pour coffee, giving Jazz space to move freely and not feel crowded or pried on.
Only a few minutes later, the soft sound of bare feet shuffling on the floor announced Jazz’s return. Ryan turned and held a steaming mug of coffee out to him. “Did you find everything? I hope I got the amount of milk right. There’s more yet if you want.”
Jazz took the mug and peered briefly into it, his eyes lighting up as he did. “Looks just right.” He took a sip, smiled, and nodded. “Yep, just right. Thanks. Um…” He ran a hand through his still-damp hair, dishevelling it again. “I can’t seem to find my socks, though. Any idea where they might be?”
Ryan tried to think, which was not so easy since thinking about where exactly Jazz had discarded which pieces of clothing along the way to putting on the show in the living room meant thinking about what exactly they had been doing at the time he had taken them off. Or immediately afterwards. And that was not helping him with the staying calm, friendly, and only talking thing at all.
“Uhm, I’m not quite sure, to be honest. As far as I can remember, they must have come off either with the shoes or with your trousers, as you were definitely not wearing them in bed. Have you checked under the sofa?”
“Not under it, actually.” Jazz sighed. “I’ll do that then.”
“Yeah?” Jazz stopped on his way down the hall and looked back over his shoulder.
“I, um...you look gorgeous. I wish...” Ryan bit his lip, assuming that Jazz would not want to hear what he wanted to say.
“What?” Jazz whispered in a surprisingly soft tone.
“I wish we didn’t have to go out of the house. I’d love to just stay here with you, snug and comfortable, talk to you without anybody around, and be at ease, you know?” The hopeful sound in Ryan’s voice was embarrassingly obvious.
Smiling kindly, Jazz seemed to understand exactly what Ryan was trying to tell him, but he shook his head. “Sorry, Ry. I don’t want that. I mean, yes, I do. It’s tempting, and I’d love that, too. But I can’t think like this when I’m all wrapped up in you after a night of fucking amazing sex and being at ease. I—we would only end up in bed again, and I don’t want that.”
A small, sceptical part of Ryan’s mind kept wondering if Jazz was really going to stick to the deal he’d suggested. He did. They hadn’t even made it into the bedroom, as Ryan was far too turned on to stand it any longer. Greedily, the sceptical part of his brain suggested a little test run to see just how serious Jazz was about his offer.
“On your knees,” he ordered harshly.
Jazz blinked in surprise but obediently dropped to his knees in front of Ryan and looked up at him. “What do you want me to do?” he whispered hoarsely, big dark eyes burning with lust as he ran his tongue along that luscious bottom lip. Ryan could hardly hold back, and he clung to the last iota of self-control he possessed.
“Suck me off. Nice and slow. I want to make the most of fucking that wicked mouth of yours.”
Uncertainty flickered across Jazz’s face for a split second, but it was quickly replaced by a wide, feral smile. “I hope that’s not all you’re planning for tonight.” He chuckled but obediently opened his mouth and let Ryan’s eager erection slide past those glistening lips.
Leaning back as far as he could and keeping his mouth mostly open, Jazz let Ryan watch as he ran his tongue along his cock over and over again, caressing the swollen head with playful flicks. He teased the slit, gently dipping in, only to soothe the assaulted flesh by licking it afterwards.
Ryan let him play for a while until he couldn’t bear it anymore. Tangling his fingers in Jazz’s hair, he held his head in place and fucked his mouth, the way he’d been longing to do for so long.
Jazz took it well, allowing him to take over control, as usual, and letting Ryan’s cock deep down his throat. Even though he couldn’t quite manage the last inch or two, it felt amazing and much faster than he’d expected, Ryan was approaching orgasm. He didn’t want it to end just yet, though. Pulling back, he extracted his glistening, wet erection from Jazz’s willing mouth, leaving his lover swaying slightly. Jazz looked adorable with his eyes closed, cheeks flushed, and lips puffed. Ryan bent down to kiss him quickly then grabbed him by the lapels of his shirt to make him get to his feet.
“Huh?” Jazz opened his eyes, staring at Ryan in obvious confusion. “Didn’t you like it?”
“Of course I did.” Ryan smiled reassuringly. “I just don’t want to come yet. Not like this.”
“Not? How do you want it, then?”
“I want to come with my cock buried to the root inside your arse,” Ryan said bluntly. Predictably, Jazz’s breath hitched, and he dropped his gaze briefly, clearly embarrassed. Ryan didn’t care. Tonight was about what he wanted, wasn’t it?
“Turn around,” he ordered. “Go to the sofa, drop your trousers, and bend over the back.”
Jazz let out a surprised little gasp. “Whoa, you know what you want, huh?”
“Yes. Now stop talking, and do as you’re told.”
Very briefly, Jazz looked about to answer back, but he seemed to think better of it and, with a somewhat perplexed but also amused smile on his face, he walked across the room. Ryan quietly thanked whatever fit of temper had made him arrange the furniture the way he had. The sofa was in the middle of the room, its extremely high, very comfortable backrest turned to the door.
Having reached it, Jazz lingered for a moment, seemingly uncertain how to continue.
“Lose the clothes, dear,” Ryan reminded him with outward cool. Inside, he was giddy with excitement. Jazz had always been happy to let him have control, but it had never been like this between them. Ryan had never quite allowed himself to fully indulge his dominant streaks, perhaps for fear of scaring Jazz off. Now that didn’t matter anymore. He had already lost Jazz, lost him more times than he could be bothered to count, in fact, but a lack of sexual compatibility had never been the reason, and he was beyond caring if it would be now.
Now, all he cared for was taking Jazz up on his offer and fucking him until all the pent-up anger and frustration inside him were vented. It wasn’t the right reason to do this, but to him, it was the only reason that mattered. Jazz was right. He needed this.
Looking back at him over his shoulder, Jazz apparently came to the same conclusion. He reached for his fly, swiftly undid the button and the zip, and pushed the garment down to carelessly kick it aside.
“All of them,” Ryan instructed helpfully when Jazz seemed uncertain how to continue. Again, Jazz cast him a slightly doubtful look but obediently opened the buttons on his shirt and tossed it aside with as little consideration as he’d given his trousers. Now all that separated his body from full exposure were his boxers. Catching Ryan’s glance, he rolled his eyes, grinned, and took the last piece of clothing off.
“Better now?” he asked, sounding vaguely amused.
“Mm-hmm,” Ryan hummed contentedly. “It’s still not quite right, though.”
Looking down his gloriously naked body, Jazz raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think there’s anything else I can take off,” he said sceptically.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, what do you mean?”
“Your position. I want you standing to attention.”
“Huh?” Jazz’s second eyebrow shot up in surprise. “What is this, some weird military kink you never told me about?”
Chuckling, Ryan shook his head. “Again, not what I meant.” He indicated Jazz’s limp cock with a casual flick of his hand. “I want you hard and ready when I fuck you.”