I thrust in slow motion and slid almost all the way back out as I smiled and said, “You know what I’m looking forward to?”
“What?”
“About five seconds from now, when all you can do is moan.” With that, I shifted slightly to make sure I nailed his prostate and started fucking him harder and faster. It actually took less than five seconds for him to go from smirking to throwing his head back and moaning.
At that point, we both forgot about the playful teasing and let our primal sides take over. He planted his feet on the mattress and began rocking up to meet my thrusts, one hand braced against the headboard while he grasped my shoulder with the other.
He looked wild and gorgeous, and the sounds that came from him were incredible. Every moan, gasp, and yell was a huge turn-on. Pleasure radiated through my body, and as my orgasm began to build, I used his precum as lube and started jerking him off.
Kit ended up coming right before I did, crying out as he bucked beneath me. That sent me tumbling over the edge. I came harder than I ever thought possible, my voice unrecognizable as a jagged yell tore from me. Blacking out felt like a very real possibility.
Afterwards, we both needed a moment to catch our breath. I quickly disposed of the condom and cleaned up with some tissues before falling back onto the bed.
He turned to me with a huge smile and blurted, “That was fun!”
That made me chuckle. “I agree.”
We shifted around so we were on our sides facing each other, and Kit kissed me before saying, “It’s still pretty early. We could get dressed and go check out more of Austin’s nightlife if you wanted to.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No. I want to stay in bed with you, but I’m trying to seem like I’m cool and hip and not a total homebody.”
“I want to stay in bed, too.”
“Good.” He looked relieved.
We ended up showering together, and then we ordered room service, since both of us had skipped dinner. Later on, when the lights were out and Kit was curled up in my arms, he murmured, “When you sang that Cyndi Lauper song earlier, it felt like you were singing it to me.”
“I was. Every other person in that club disappeared, Kit. That song was for you alone.”
“That’s so romantic.”
There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him. Instead, I admitted, “I’ve been holding back. I’m worried about what will happen to you if we get too close, about how you’ll feel after I…” I swallowed the lump in my throat and said softly, “I never want to hurt you, Kit.”
“I know that, but I’ve gone into this whole thing with my eyes wide open,” he said. “I may not believe in the curse, but I’ve always known that opening my heart and letting someone in comes with the risk of heartbreak. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, because I want to be with you, Devon.”
I whispered, “I want to be with you, too. More than anything.”
13
Kit
After a few wonderful days with Hal and Ryder, two nights in New Orleans, and a couple of days on the road, we arrived in Devon’s hometown. It was three days before Christmas, and a cool, crisp evening in Baltimore.
Devon got us a room in a fancy hotel with a view of the inner harbor. When I asked him why we didn’t just go to his mom and stepdad’s house, he said, “It’s getting late, and we’ve been on the road all day. I think it’d be better to go see them tomorrow.”
“Should we text them and tell them we’ll be delayed?”
“They don’t know we’re coming.”
“But you spoke to your mom three days ago. Didn’t you mention we were on our way?”
“I didn’t want to get her hopes up,” he said, “just in case I...”
He didn’t finish that sentence. He didn’t have to, because he’d said “I,” not “we.” He hadn’t been concerned about us running late, or having a change of plans, or breaking down on the road. He’d been worried he himself wouldn’t make it this far.
It was a reminder of what Devon was carrying with him. He’d seemed consistently upbeat, so I thought he was starting to believe he’d dodged the curse. After all, his thirtieth birthdaywas only about six weeks away. But he was right where he’d always been.
