Christopher Swank couldn’t figure out if the stranger had just stepped out of a noir movie or if he had lived in this bar his whole life and Chris had miraculously been missing him. Regardless, with his charming grin and smoky eyes, he looked interesting and Chris was bored, so he found himself wandering to the man’s table.
The man tossed back his shot before clanking the glass on the table. He threw Chris a killer smile like he drank: careless, smooth, mindless of the burn. Seeing songs born in those shattered green eyes, Chris flashed his own smile and slid into the booth across from him.
“Want a smoke?” he offered, wanting to see those full lips curve around something other than a smile.
A flash of sharp, white teeth. “I don’t smoke,” the stranger returned, even as he held out a hand for one. “Those things kill ya, you know.”
Chris found himself liking the stranger even more, and yes, the cigarette looked as good in that mouth as he thought it would. Before the stranger could light it, Chris leaned over and lit the cigarette himself. The man nodded and inhaled deeply. The smoke ring was perfect slipping from those lips.
“So what brings you this way?” the stranger drawled, voice whiskey-rough, smoke tingeing his words. The dim light washed over him, yellow and worn, and it was perfect, casting those tired eyes deeper in shadow. Chris wanted to start jotting words on napkins, to describe the sardonic tilt to that grin.
It was like the stranger knew what he was thinking. His chuckle was low, rough, and Chris found himself half-hard before he knew it. Heat crept up his spine.
The stranger aimed the next smoke ring at Chris’ face. Winking at him, the man slid out of the booth and slid through the crowd toward the glaring red exit sign. Licking his lips once, Chris followed.
The alley was dark, broken bottles littering the ground. Only the streetlight at the far end of the alley did anything at all and that was enhancing the shadows. The stranger stood in one of the shadows, lounging against the dirty wall like a two-dollar hooker, the cigarette in his mouth a low glow highlighting his lush mouth. Chris paused to deliberately look him over: long, bowed legs that sent Chris’ thoughts spiraling toward the gutter, slim hips, leather-clad arms crossed over a muscular chest, and finally, stopping on that already-familiar smirk. Chris couldn’t see his eyes.
When the man blew another smoke ring at him like he was blowing a kiss, full lips pursed in a perfect “O,” Chris strode forward. He slammed the green-eyed man into the wall and swallowed his husky laugh, kissing him hard enough to taste blood. He could feel the stranger’s chest vibrating against his, still lost in that private mirth. Chris slid one hand down, determined to wipe that laughter away.
No underwear. God. Chris pulled the already hard cock out of those tight jeans, flesh burning against his palm. The stranger panted against his mouth. Chris barely bit back a groan as the man thrust forward, his cock sliding roughly in Chris’ hand, the invitation clear. One muscled leg rose, a hard thigh rubbing against his hip.
“Come on,” the man whispered, smoke and alcohol on his breath. “Come on.”
Chris groaned and pushed the stranger’s pants down. The blond twisted and canted his hips, firm ass high and tight. Chris couldn’t help cupping that ass, squeezing tightly. The man shoved into his grip.
“You’re ready, aren’t you, darlin’?” Chris breathed, grabbing his lube from his pocket before sliding his dick from his jeans. It paid to be prepared. Never knew when you were going to meet an enthusiastic fan…or a gorgeous, sexy stranger.
The rumble that rose from the blond’s throat reminded Chris of a hungry lion, and he groaned as he slicked himself up. Fuck.
The stranger tossed him a look. eyes intense under long lashes. He licked his lips once. Chris leaned over and licked them, too.
“Tease,” he whispered.
The stranger only smiled. Chris felt the movement of those fuckable lips against his own. Biting that full bottom lip, Chris shoved two slick fingers inside the blond.
He was tight, tighter than Chris expected, and he immediately froze. The blond didn’t act as if it hurt, though. He actually arched back into it.
Fuck, that eagerness was hot.
The third finger was harder to push in, but the blond only thrust back on it, fucking himself on Chris’ hand. Chris bit at the man’s neck, fingers twisting and thrusting into that tight heat.
“Come on,” the blond groaned. “Come on.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“A little more, darlin’,” he whispered, lube click and dripping on the man’s ass, his own hand. He thrust a little harder with his fingers, a little deeper, using his body to hold the blond still against the wall. The man’s groan trembled through Chris.
Enough, it was enough. He sank his teeth into the stranger’s nape, steadying them both long enough for him to grab a condom and roll it on his dick. When he pushed into that impossible heat, the man moaned long and thick, arching back.
Oh, fuck.
“Nice, darlin’,” Chris whispered into the man’s neck. “So nice.”
Sliding his hands over those slender hips, his callused fingers sliding over smooth skin and smoother scars, Chris pulled back and then slammed into the man. The blond groaned, matching his thrusts, shoving himself back. Chris panted, fucking into the stranger. So hot and so damned tight, and he wondered how it would feel to have him on his back, bowed leg slung over Chris’ shoulder, bed rocking under them.
There were some downsides to one-night stands.
But now wasn’t the time for that. Chris mouthed at the bared neck, tasting flesh and sweat, and fucked harder into that tight ass. Those husky moans were music to Chris’ ears, their very own soundtrack.
He reached around, lube-slick hand gripping the man’s swollen cock. The man’s gasp was perfect, shivering through Chris, and he moaned as he pulled and pushed and tugged and thrust. He shifted and shoved and the responding hard groan thrummed between them.
“Come on,” Chris tossed back to the stranger. The chorus. “Come on.”
There was no sudden cry, no names to break the rhythm. Only a low, drawn-out moan and come splashing against the wall. Chris rested his head against that taut back and shuddered his own release.
When Chris pulled back and tossed the used condom deeper into the alley, the stranger casually held his cigarette up, shook off some ash, and put it to his lips. Half-naked in an alley and seemingly oblivious to Chris’ stunned eyes, the blond exhaled another perfect smoke ring. Then he offered it to Chris. Silently, he took it and put it to his own lips, tasting the stranger’s saliva.
Carelessly, the blond slid his pants over that perfect ass. He winked at Chris, smirk firmly on his lips. “Thanks for the smoke.”
Chris smirked back. “Anytime.” Meaning it.
The man didn’t head back into the bar, instead slipping into the shadows of the alley. Chris watched the darkness swallow him up before turning back to the door. He had music to write.
One hour with a beautiful stranger. It would be enough.
Better to Reign 