“For real?”
“For real. You don’t do it enough.”
“Maybe you’re not funny enough.”
“I should rip more of your clothes off and find out.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
I couldn’t identify when it had become so easy for us to talk like this. As if tearing each other’s clothes off was something we’d done our entire lives. That it was normal, and not bogged down in a black cloud of baggage, doubts, and complication. His bare skin touched mine. We slid together, roaming hands, entwined legs, and short sharp breaths, and a desperation rose in me that I’d never felt before.
Gus laid me on my back. He had his hand wrapped around my cock, pumping slow and tight, making my eyes roll. “I want to do something to you,” he said. “Will you let me?”
“Depends what it is.”
“I want to touch you.”
“Where?”
He grinned. “Everywhere.”
I got the picture, and I sucked in a nervous breath. I’d let other people do that stuff, but with Gus, everything felt brand new. I trusted him, though. So I nodded and scooted further back on the bed. “Do what you like.”
Gus leant over me to his bedside table. He rummaged around and came up with an unopened bottle of lube. I didn’t look at it, and I closed my brain off to the sound of him popping the cap. I wondered when would be the right time to tell him the last bloke to come at me with a bottle of KY had—unintentionally—really fucking hurt me. Or if I even needed to tell him, because there was no way he’d ever be that clumsy with his big, work-hardened hands.
“Hey.” Gus gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Stay with me, okay? I’m not going to hurt you.”
How did he know? I swallowed thickly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.” He smoothed lube between his palms and stretched his tall frame out beside me. “Because you’re gonna like this, I promise.”
I didn’t doubt him. Only myself. But as he moved his slick hands down my body, I forgot my fears. Gus worked my cock with one hand, while the other moved lower. He took me apart with his gentle, probing touch, and I came with a ragged groan, and a shudder that gave me whiplash.
It took a while for me to come back. For who-the-hell-knew how long, I hid in Gus’s chest, shivering while he stroked my back, but I wasn’t cold. Never was when I was with him. I just loved his fucking touch, man, and I wasn’t giving it up in a hurry. Eventually, though, it belatedly occurred to me that we were covered in dirt and gritty sand from the lake, and now it was all over Gus’s bed.
I shifted away from him, and something else seemed to shift too, as perspective returned to me. I wanted to kiss him. To thank him for making me feel so damn good. But I didn’t kiss him. Instead, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and squeezed. “We need to stop doing this.”
In the darkness, Gus sighed. “I know.”