Free Omorphi by C. Kennedy Page B

and pulling him down for a kiss.
    Heat quickly rose between them, the kiss deepened, and they dared to explore each other in soft caresses and gentle movements. Michael drank down his first intimacy and the closeness he’d yearned to have for as long as he could remember. He knew then that he would love Christy. Overwhelmed by the revelation, and throwing caution to the wind, he rose and unbuttoned Christy’s shirt. Smoothing his palms down Christy’s pale, golden skin to come to rest on his belly, he found his fingers trembling like nervous butterflies.
    He’d never touched a guy before, let alone one as beautiful as Christy. The exhilaration that filled him was fresh and new and like nothing he’d ever known. His eyes traveled Christy’s torso, committing the smooth, golden skin, small nipples, thin waist, and taut belly to memory. Christy was stunning, everything he’d imagined, everything he’d ever dreamed of in a boyfriend. Everything I’ve ever wanted . And Christy was seriously small. A hot, sexy guy in miniature. Well, maybe not so small in one place. He’d learned that over the last few moments. Michael felt heat fill his face at the thought and prayed Christy didn’t notice.
    Their eyes met again, and he saw challenge in Christy’s gaze. He’d seen that look in girls’ eyes but never in a guy’s eyes and certainly never directed at him. He wanted to take Christy into his arms, to know every part of him, to show him that he cared about him, but he had no idea what was okay to do with a guy. With girls, he knew the lines not to cross, but he had no idea what the lines were with a guy.
    Christy solved his quandary as he covered Michael’s hands with his own and slowly pushed them south of his belly, encouraging Michael to touch him. Following Christy’s lead, he gathered his courage and dared to unbutton the top button of Christy’s jeans and reveal the pink lace beneath. The underwear was sheer and fine and looked expensive. Michael ran a fingertip along the edge where lace met skin and decided that Christy looked sexy as hell in pink lace. Heat rose in his veins and his breaths quickened as he raised his gaze to meet Christy’s once again.
    “Very pretty,” Michael breathed as he dared to gather Christy’s waist in his hands and feather his thumbs over the protruding hipbones. Christy arched into his touch, his eyes blinking slowly as he watched Michael intently. Worry suddenly filled Michael’s mind. Was this okay to do with Christy given his… abuse? He was dangerously close to losing himself in the moment and fought to rein himself in. He didn’t want to do anything that would scare Christy, trigger something bad in him, or hurt him in some way.
    Again, Christy assuaged his worry. He brushed a hand lightly over Michael’s straining body, then held him firmly, tightly for a moment before tugging on the hem of his shirt. That was all it took. Michael surrendered to Christy’s touch, pulled his shirt over his head, and dropped it beside the couch before covering Christy’s small frame with his own. Bare skin met bare skin, a thrilling ache blossoming in Michael, and he claimed Christy’s sweet mouth passionately. They melded perfectly and moved in flawless harmony, as if they were made for each other. Christy’s hands worked down Michael’s back and lower, cupping his buttocks and urging him closer still. Then they heard the garage door open.
    Michael thought he would die right then and there. He groaned into the sweet smelling softness of Christy’s neck. “Damn.” He didn’t want this special moment with Christy to end. And his body was, well, you know.
    “We’re home,” Bobbie called from the kitchen.
    Michael’s mom never called across the house, and he guessed she knew what they were up to. Fighting his raging libido, he rose quickly, helped Christy with his buttons, and pulled his shirt over his head just as his mom entered the room.
    “Hey, Mom.”
    “Hi, honey. You