Scene Set Up: Cayl is an alien come to earth hunting a killer. He's never experienced "senses" before. Mace is more than willing to help him out. Collective Memory is available in e-book and print from Ellora's Cave, Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
The sounds of shuffling dragged Mace out of his bed and down the hall to his guestroom. He stopped by the door. Footsteps padded across creaking floorboards and back again. Cayl was obviously having a hard time sleeping. Unable to resist, Mace pressed his ear up against he door. Step, step, grunt, and what? A whimper? What the hell was going on?
Mace tapped on the door, opening it as he poked his head inside. Cayl stood in the middle of the room, moonlight streaming across the floor, his hands propped on his hips, his jeans hanging low. His shirt was gone, thrown on the floor like he’d ripped it off in a fit of irritation.
“You okay, man?”
“I do not understand how you do it.”
“How do humans shut off these senses long enough to find rest?”
Mace hid his grin. So the guy was going to continue his “I’m an alien” routine. That was okay. He could play like that.
Cayl spun around and glared at him. “If I could possibly get used to the scent of the bedclothes, there is the constant hum of your food storage unit and the tree brushing against the roof.” He paused. “And if I could ignore all of that, my shaft has remained hard since we left that club making it impossible for me to sleep.”
Mace let his gaze drop to Cayl’s crotch and sure enough, there was a distinctive bulge that indicated the poor man was in some discomfort. Oh yeah. I can definitely play with that.
“How am I to correct this?” Cayl demanded.
“It’s obviously defective. I was given to understand a male’s shaft got hard when the human was preparing for intercourse. I am alone and quite obviously not preparing to have intercourse, so why is it hard?”
“You were hard at the club,” Mace pointed out.
“But Agent Denning, who is female, was present and rubbing against me.” Agent Denning? Mace had to ask Devin about that. “That was a logical explanation. The body believed it might have some chance at penetration.”
The edge of Mace’s mouth kicked up. He could almost believe this guy didn’t understand fucking. But the way he’d kissed Devin and sucked her tits…fuck, that had been hot.
Cayl’s mouth crinkled into an irritated line. “I don’t know what to do when one is alone.”
“Okay, um, you…” Hmm, how did he explain this? “You rub it. You know, put your hand on it.”
Cayl shook his head and sighed. “I tried that. Touching it only makes it worse.”
Mace’s smiled broadened into a full-blown grin.
“You have to kind of do it for a bit. It gets worse before it gets better.”
“You’ve done this?”
Cayl pulled open the button fly and shoved them down, his cock popping out as it was freed and stretching long, hard and thick.
“Please show me this technique. I cannot tolerate this sensation much longer.”
Show him? Come on. You can do it. Give a hand job to the hot guy in your spare room who thinks he’s an alien.
There were all sorts of reasons why he shouldn’t do this—first and foremost being this guy might be insane—but the thick cock pushed aside the concerns. He walked across the room to where Cayl stood. Cayl’s broad chest tapered down into a ripped stomach. Hmm. Nice. Hard and firm. Thick. He shook his head when he realized he’d moved past describing his chest and returned his attention to Cayl’s cock.
Cayl tipped his head to the side as if to urge Mace to hurry. Demanding little shit. Except he wasn’t little. Not where it counted. Not anywhere.
“Well, you just…” What the hell, just do it. He reached out and curled his fingers around the base of the shaft. Cayl’s sharp inhale warned Mace it wouldn’t take much. The guy was on the edge. “You just stroke it.” He slid his hand up, tightening his grip, letting his fingers tease the round head. A garbled cry erupted from Cayl’s throat.
Cayl might be insane but he wasn’t faking the hunger. Mace gave another pump and felt a shudder run through Cayl’s body. Mace kept his eyes down and worked his hand over the thick cock, every stroke drawing a reaction from Cayl—a groan, a shiver. Fuck the guy is responsive. Strong fingers dug into his shoulder as Cayl punched his hips forward, driving his cock into Mace’s grip.
“Mace, please you must—”
Mace looked up. Cayl’s wide eyes stared back at him—a mix of panic and fear.
“Surely there is some resolution soon?”