I don't know how he found me, but I guess that's part of his, uh, job. And it's not like I minded....
I was housesitting for my sister Janet and her family. She and Marty and the two kids, Dylan and Peggy, and Peggy's best friend Allison, were off to Disneyworld. Somebody had to take care of the pool, the garden, and the aquarium. Enter Jamie, little brother extraordinaire. Janet and I have always been close, and Marty actually likes me, unlike Moira's husband, Gary.
So I packed up my cat, Mrs. 'Arris, and some clothes, books, CDs, and disks, and moved into my sister's house for two weeks. A pool to swim in, a deck to grill on, a pretty good computer system (not as good as mine), and a very large tv in the bedroom, with a VCR and a video collection (much better than mine). Nice accomodations for a free two-week stay.
It was early June, and I took some of my vacation time for the housesitting stint. It was really nice being on my own, having so much time to read or snooze or surf the Net, not having to worry about the crimes behind the evidence I handle for a living. I try not to think about it too much, but sometimes they prey on me, some of the uglier cases.
I was heating up the grill at dusk, ready to work miracles with some Italian sausage, when I heard the whisper of leather over wood and the half-mocking question, "Trying to give me the slip, James?"
I spun around to see my come-again, go-again lover lounging against the back wall of the house.
Once I put down the oven mitt and the very large two-pronged fork I'd been inadvertently brandishing, I gave him a quick hug and a smile I hoped would stand in for the big kiss I wanted to give him. Too many families in the neighborhood, too many kids roaming freely for that sort of thing. Wouldn't want to shock the bourgeousie.
"You want a beer?"
The hairs on the back of my neck--and elsewhere--were standing up as he followed me into the kitchen. I licked my lips in anticipation as I opened the fridge and bent over to retrieve an India Pale Ale. I have to admit, I waggled my ass a little bit, too, just to be sure I had his attention.
Alex didn't disappoint. As soon as I turned around, he snatched the beer out of my hand. Smack went the bottle onto the counter, boom went the refrigerator door, and thud went my back against the door, Alex's lips smothering mine and his thigh pressing against my crotch. Heaven. Some cutesy little magnet was gouging my shoulderblade like an icepick, but I didn't care. I slipped my hands under the leather jacket and ran them over his sweaty back. It had been too long since I'd seen him.
I was gasping for breath by the time he let go. "Kiss the cook," he murmured into my ear before biting the lobe.
"Can you stay for dinner?" I asked hopefully.
The sausages turned out beautifully. I grilled some onions, peppers, and mushrooms to go along with them and just served it all with some good Italian bread. We both ate and drank hugely, but I thought Alex seemed unusually hungry. He always ate more than I did and obviously burned it off faster than I ever would, but I got the feeling he hadn't had a good meal for a while.
After dinner he helped me clean up. I smiled as I loaded the dishwasher with the plates and the large fork, imagining Alex Krycek with an apron and a dishtowel, drying the dishes while I washed them. He seemed kind of uneasy in the house, despite being so helpful. When we were done, he hung up the wet dishtowel to dry and smoothed it out carefully.
"Hey, Jamie, could I--would it be okay if I spent the night?"
I blinked with surprise and pleasure. "Sure. I'm housesitting for two weeks. I mean, my sister and her family aren't going to show up tonight."
His shoulders seemed to slump with relief when I said that. It was already pretty late--we'd been outside talking for hours--so I said, "Let me show you the bedroom, and then I'm going to take a shower."
Alex actually whistled in appreciation. I grinned. "Pretty nice, huh?"
Kingsize futon on a platform--good for Marty's back--covered with a soft white comforter, not too heavy. Opposite the bed, a large television with a VCR. Boombox on a side table, with CDs and cassettes scattered around it. Thick soft carpet, dark green like moss. Big wardrobes of dark, gleaming cherry, and matching bookcases. Quiet but powerful air conditioning.
"Make yourself comfortable," I said, still grinning. "I'll be right back."
I sang like an idiot during my quick but thorough shower. Early exposure to Lerner and Loewe is a dangerous thing--I think I was caroling "On the Street Where You Live." After the shower I brushed my teeth, rinsed with mouthwash, spritzed on some cologne, downed some Maalox to counteract the aftereffects of dinner, and headed back to the bedroom ready for whatever.
Alex was lying on the bed, on top of the comforter. He'd gotten his shoes and socks off, and dropped his jacket by the bedroom door, but otherwise he was fully clothed. And fast asleep.
Something tightened up in my chest, and it wasn't the little twinge of disappointment I felt. I turned out the light and left him there.
I woke up the next morning to feel warm arms around my chest and wet nibbling along the back of my neck. He knows I'm really sensitive there. I held still, pretending to sleep, for as long as I could, but eventually I had to, well, writhe a little. His cock was between the cheeks of my ass.
"Sorry about last night," Alex whispered huskily.
"That's okay." I stretched, feeling his hands run down my stomach. "You must have needed the sleep."
"Yeah, well, I need something else now...."
Alex flicked his tongue over the rim of my ear just as his fingers brushed over the tip of my cock. The most incredible shudder ran through me, just from that. He could do so much, with so little....
"I think I need that, too." I was getting breathless.
He wrapped his fingers around me and gave one good squeeze, then tugged on my shoulder so that I rolled over to face him. During the kiss, I noticed that his hair was damp and his breath smelled like the cinnamon mouthwash I had used last night. I was touched that he'd sneaked off to take a shower before waking me up, even though it wasn't really necessary. I loved the way he smelled, so different from me, sharper, more astringent. I loved feeling his back last night, his shirt soaked with perspiration, and smelling that mixture of him and the leather. I loved everything about sex with Alex Krycek.
He finally dragged his lips away from mine and started licking my ears, nuzzling my throat, playing with my nipples. I gave a long, long sigh and rolled onto my back, letting him do what he wanted. So far I'd been the more passive partner, for lack of experience, but being made love to by Alex Krycek was an education in itself. Eventually, I vowed, I would get around to giving what I was getting, but in the meantime, it felt so good just to lie back and get ravished....
My whole body tensed up with pleasure and joy when he sucked on the head of my cock and eased his finger into my asshole. I was biting my lip to keep from whimpering, but he realized what I was doing. I did whimper when he pulled his mouth off my flesh. "Jamie. *Jamie*."
I looked down across my chest at him, and he was giving me this--this glare with hot green eyes like some mythical tiger's, his head tilted. I noticed how beautiful his cheekbones were. "Jamie. Don't hold back. I wanna hear it. I wanna hear how I make you feel. Let me hear it." He did something with that finger embedded in me, and I heard myself wail, I didn't know I could make sounds like that.
"That's it. That's it. Lemme hear it."
He went down on me, all the way down, his mouth so tight and wet, demanding it of me, and I let out this groan that rose up through my torso from where his mouth touched me, from where he was stroking me inside. My back arched up, my mouth opened, I let it all vibrate through me, holding nothing back.
Gulp, gasp, writhe, grab the comforter--I was on the next-to-the-last place of pi, right on the verge of infinity, and Alex eased off. That bastard....
"You wanna get fucked now, Jamie?"
Linguistic pervert. He really gets a kick out of making me, James Robert Brendan Pendrell, the good little boy who wouldn't, as my uncle Walt used to put it, say "shit" with a mouthful, talk like a porn star. And I get a kick out of it, too.
"Oh, yes, Alex. I want you to fuck me."
I rolled over and spread without any hesitation. Why do I trust this man when he could so easily put a bullet in my head? I don't know. I just want him inside me more than I want to answer questions.
He got two fingers in easily. I clenched and relaxed and sobbed into the pillow, not caring how I sounded. This was so good, so right, my body craved it, needed something only Alex could give. Let me, I thought, let me show you, let me be like this for you.
I raised my ass a little when he knelt between my thighs, nudging them apart. It was torture to wait for him to put on the condom. Then Alex draped himself over me and worked himself in, filling me with his cock.
He was always so careful when he did this. He'd been my first. Always, always there was this boundary of uncertainty, this border between two extremes that touched one another, a few moments when I would whimper like a baby, not knowing what to feel. Then it would cross over, the chord would resolve, and I'd hear myself groaning with joy, Alex, Alex.... I loved the way he would cover me and wrap his arms around me, holding me tight inside and out.
Alex did that now and starting thrusting slowly, kissing the back of my neck. His fingers were teasing my nipples again, but he was careful with his movements. He wouldn't give me more until I let him know I needed and wanted it. I held out as long as I could, giving it back to him with the way I breathed and the way I moved beneath him, until I had to say it.
"Oohhh, Alex, fuck me harder...."
Yes, harder, faster, too. Alex moved back, getting up on his knees and pulling me with him. Knowing hands slid down my belly to my cock.
"You want more?"
"You want me to fuck you?"
"You want me to come inside you, Jamie?" His voice was getting hoarse as he thrust harder and I was sobbing, gasping, barely able to answer him--
"You gonna come for me?"
Alex started to say something else, but the words broke into a wild shout as his orgasm hit him, and I joined him, threw myself into the fire that was his delight in me and my delight in him, and went through all the possible states of matter several times before returning, more or less, to solidity.
"I'm gonna get spoiled," I mumbled, "if we keep having those simultaneous orgasms."
"Nothing could spoil you, Jamie." He sounded so oddly serious I wanted to worry, but I didn't have the energy.
After Alex pulled out and went to the bathroom, I lay there on my stomach, feeling a little sore but really just blissed-out. If you had told me, a year ago, that my first sexual experience would be with a man, I would have laughed in your face. If you had told it would be with somebody wanted by the agency I work for, I would have called the nearest psych hospitals to see if they had an opening. And here I was, happy as sunshine because my fly-by-night lover had flown in and fucked me senseless. Go figure.
Alex came back and sat on the edge of the bed. I turned over and he stroked my thigh, looking like he wanted to say something. "What is it?" I said.
He opened and closed his mouth a couple times before speaking. "Jame, do you mind if I stay here a while? Maybe for a week?"
He sounded so nervous, like maybe he thought I wouldn't want him around that long. "Sure, Alex. No problem. Like I said last night, I'm here by myself, they're in Disneyworld. As long as we leave the house neat and keep the pool clean, my sister won't mind my having a guest."
Alex got kind of a strange look on his face, one that I couldn't interpret. Then he just nodded and said, "I showered already, so you go ahead."
I was singing in the shower again, only this time it was Irish folk songs I'd learned from my Auntie Maureen. I put on shorts and a t-shirt and went down to the kitchen to find Alex Krycek cooking breakfast.
Eggs in one skillet, sausages in another. A dirty mixing bowl and spoon, and an empty box of muffin mix sitting on the counter. The coffee maker dripping away. I was speechless. I leaned against the fridge with my mouth hanging open. Alex grinned slyly. "Don't do that," he said. "I can't leave the stove to come over there and kiss you."
He stayed for a week. It was the most time we had ever spent together, and the most, well, *normal* time. Alex helped with the pool and the garden, and he did some of the cooking, too. Big cholesterol-rich breakfasts and fat sandwiches for lunch, cans of soup or ravioli, that sort of thing. He was always hungry and ate a lot at every meal, but we burned it off in sex. Yeah, we worked around the house, we talked, we watched movies, but we had sex, morning, noon, and night. I was a happy camper. I was used to a night spent together and a cup of coffee in the morning--tea for me--and then no Alex for two weeks. Now I had him 24 hours a day, and he had me, over and over and over.
And I had him, I have to say. It wasn't like I was always passive. Alex was more experienced and more aggressive, and I loved that, but he was always encouraging when I wanted to take the initiative. For example, the whole video incident was his fault.
"Jamie, did you know your sister and brother-in-law have a serious porn collection?"
I was putting away clean towels in the upstairs bathroom. I turned around--He's always coming up behind me, I thought--and there was Alex, bare to the waist, grinning one of those evil grins and holding something behind his back.
"No way!" *Janet*?
"Yes, way." He smirked. "I was looking under the bed because I thought I'd kicked my shoes under there, and look what I found." He whipped out the thing behind his back and handed it to me.
"'Toy Box'?" I read. I couldn't believe it. "An OnaZee Production."
"There's lots more where that came from...."
Dumbly, I put the three remaining clean towels on top of the ironing board and let Alex drag me down the hall to the bedroom.
He was not lying. He was not even exaggerating. There was a handsome little collection of erotic videos, including--I turned bright red--one called "Summer Studs" that was obviously all male.
"I bet your sister watches that by herself." Alex was still smirking.
"I don't speculate about my sister's sex life. Or the sex life of anybody else in my family." And I sure hope they don't speculate about mine, I added to myself.
"So don't speculate. Let's watch this and see what happens."
In about nothing flat, I was naked on the bed with Alex stretched out beside me, still in his jeans, watching "Summer Studs." And getting hard before the credits were over.
I am not a bod-watcher. I just... I think it's rude, okay? So I've never looked at women a lot, not obviously, not that I don't notice, and I've definitely never looked at men. I don't usually notice... usually. Now here there were all these, well, hunky guys right in front of me, just a few feet away on a pretty big screen with fine resolution. Everything... right... there. Equipment that made me *and* Alex look pathetic, and I can assure you, neither of us needs to feel embarassed in a locker room. Everything oiled and slippery and muscular. I wanted to feel embarassed. I was blushing. But we were watching these guys do things we had done ourselves. Done and enjoyed, repeatedly. "Do *I* look like that when you're fucking me?" I asked.
"No, you're much cuter." He kissed my ear.
I squirmed but kept watching the screen. Hell, I couldn't take my eyes off it. A husky strawberry blond guy was taking a good-looking brunet, really pushing into him hard, but the dark-haired guy didn't seem to be complaining. They were both grunting with the effort. Does he fuck me that hard? I wondered. I guess he does. And I like it.
"Yeah, Jame?" His hand was wandering oh-so-casually up my thigh.
"Would you like it if-- would you mind-- that is--"
"You want to fuck me, Jamie?" Those lime snowball eyes were glittering with lust and amusement and understanding.
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"Did you really think I'd *mind*?"
The two guys onscreen came with loud groans more suitable to, say, open heart surgery without benefit of anesthesia than to sexual pleasure. Two seconds later, one of them was getting sucked off by a very dark-skinned man with muscles so defined, he looked like an anatomy textbook.
Alex stuck something in my hand. It turned out to be a condom and the lube. He'd produced the lube out of nowhere a couple of days ago; maybe it's like American Express....
My cock was dripping so much already that getting the condom on turned out to be quite a trick. He slithered out of his jeans while I was fumbling with myself. I'd never seen anybody who could dress and undress as fast as Alex Krycek. I dribbled the stuff on my fingers, paused, and looked at him uncertainly.
"Just do what I do for you," he said patiently.
I blinked, feeling wildly stupid. "Alex, I've never really tried to think about what you do!"
He started laughing, but somehow that made it all right. He spread out in the middle of the bed, and I knelt beside him and put my hand on his behind. Alex really has a beautiful ass, small and tight and round. I ran my fingers down the cleft, like a little canyon, and then probed carefully at the tight, dark pucker of his asshole. Lord, he was really going to let me do this. I was really going to do it. God, I wanted to.
He was so tight. I guess I must have been, too, the first time we did this. But it hadn't hurt--well, I was sore afterward, but it hadn't *hurt*--and I figure Alex must have done this before, been on the receiving end, that is. The thing was, I'm a little, um, thicker than he is; I was more afraid of hurting him than I had been of him hurting me.
I got one finger all the way in, and Alex was moving his hips in circles, making that finger circle inside him. I could feel him loosening up, and after a bit I squeezed more lube onto his skin and worked in two fingers. That was more difficult, but he kept coaxing and reassuring me, just like he had the first time he did this to me: "Oh, yeah. That's right. A little more. Yessss..... Go deeper... God, Jame! Yeah--yeah--"
I thought I was going to come just from listening to him and getting him ready. Finally, he said, "Come on, Jamie, I'm ready now--I want you to fuck me."
I sat back. "Um, Alex, can we do this with you on your back? Will that work? I want to see your face."
He rolled over, smiling the sweetest, sexiest smile. "Sure, baby. Anything you want."
I scooted up between his thighs and poured on more goop, even though the condom was pre-treated. Alex lifted his legs and hooked them over my shoulders, raising his ass off the bed. I fumbled, blushing, trying to aim myself right. There! Just the head of my cock slipped in, and I froze, checking his face to see if it felt okay.
Alex rocked his hips. "Come on, sweetheart. A little more."
I started to push into him slowly but steadily, watching his face tighten, his eyes fire as if glowing from within, like a cat's at night. "That's it. That's it. Oh, yeah.... It's been a while. Come on!"
I eased in until I couldn't go any further. I was gasping and so was Alex. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah." He swallowed hard and arched up against me. "Come on, Jamie, fuck me!"
I hate to say this, but--I had never done this before. With anyone. I'd never been with a woman. I hadn't planned it that way, that's just how it happened. Now I had my cock in my lover's ass, and it was so incredibly tight, and hot, and slick, and I started to move, and then everything went black.
I opened my eyes to see Alex looking at me with a kind of frightened expression. I felt great, but I couldn't quite remember what had happened. "Why'm I lying on my back?"
Alex snorted. "You fucked me. You came. And you passed out. All in about three seconds."
The blush started on my face but decided to go for covering my entire body. "I'm sorry, Alex--"
"It's okay." He ran his fingers through my hair, which felt nice. "Christ, you had me worried, that was all."
"I'm okay." I put out my arm and got him to lie down against me, swearing to myself I'd do better next time. Which I did, about twenty minutes later.
He stayed a week. Then one day I got up and he was gone. On the bed beside me was an envelope with "Jamie" written on it, in Alex's spiky, spidery handwriting. There was $100 in the envelope, with a note:
"For the food and beer, and so you can buy your own bottle of lube. I'll be seeing you. Love, Alex."
Instead of feeling bad that he was gone, I started grinning like a fool. He'd never used the word "love" before.