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Was this connection? Not just the kind making Derek tremble as his hips flexed and bowed around Dylan’s perfect ass.
These weeks of waiting for Dylan to be ready meant that in this perfect moment, he could give Dylan absolutely everything, because Derek felt everything. For all Dylan’s claims on the drive home of wanting this to be angry and rough, it felt intense more than wild. The tempo was both more and less than something furious.
Dylan’s praising whispers came on deep exhales against the mattress. Derek’s hand covered Dylan’s splayed fingers while Dylan arched and braced against the bedframe. Their fingers laced together.
But Derek needed to be closer. He pulled Dylan’s torso flush with his, changing the angle and coaxing a stammered oath from the man beneath him. Derek’s lips dragged over Dylan’s shoulder, those lean back muscles bunching beneath his mouth. Sweat blended with sweat in a new rhythm. Even the slaps of skin against skin brought more of Dylan’s almost worshipful words.
Everything slowed.
Thoughts blurred. Speech impossible.
All that remained was that intoxicating friction. The humming vibration of this beautiful man’s sweet, whimpered noises. And that perfect slide of Derek’s slick, eager hand.
Chapter 39
When they were both freshly showered and back beneath the sheets, Dylan lounged between Derek’s ridiculous thighs reading a book while Derek dozed. Dylan hadn’t stopped smiling for at least an hour. It was as if they’d done this for years.
Dylan’s book sagged in his hand as he yawned. He checked the clock. He’d been reading longer than he realized. As he sat up, Derek reached for him as if he couldn’t stand the loss of either Dylan’s body heat or just his closeness. He hadn’t been kidding about being a cuddler.
Impishly grinning, Dylan settled back between Derek’s legs. Derek tightened himself around Dylan like a very sexy and sleepy sloth clinging to a tree branch.
“I kind of liked you all ragey and hypothetically violent to protect my honor.” Dylan pulled the blanket over them both.
“I could tell.” Derek’s voice was hoarse. Probably from all the yelling he’d done at Dylan’s brothers and then from all the yelling he had done in the last few hours…
“I’m worried it means I have too much internalized toxic masculinity.” He sighed. “Or that I’m not a feminist.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never actually hit anyone in my life, and I’ve only ever used my sarcasm to shoot down someone’s assholery. Never these guns.” Derek flexed his arms.
Dylan laughed.
“Stop that.” Derek covered a yawn. “Trying to sleep, and you’re waking part of me back up.”
“Sorry.”
“Oh, somehow when we got out of the shower, I got distracted… so I forgot to ask you something…” Derek’s drowsy voice trailed off.
“Ask me what?” Dylan braced but he wasn’t quite sure why.
“On a scale of one to ten, how done are you with family drama right now?”
“Sixty-four.”
“Cute.”
“Why?” Dylan asked weakly.
“Because my mom texted. She and my new stepfather are hosting a dinner party next Friday, and she wants me to bring my new friend Dylan to dinner.”
“And you…” Dylan winced. “This is a big night for you… Are you sure you want me to—”
“Yes.” He kissed Dylan’s forehead. His nimble fingers worked tangles from Dylan’s damp hair until the hand lowered. He lifted Dylan’s hand and swept a clumsy kiss across his knuckles. Derek nestled his head into the pillow without shifting from his sloth-on-a-tree-branch–style snuggle. “I really do.”
Something about that unhesitant yes made Dylan feel bolder. “Speaking of things we keep forgetting to mention…”
“Hmm?”
“I just… I keep forgetting to tell you. My tenants are moving out in a few weeks, after I get back from the meetings. Could I… Would you want to see my house sometime?”