I vaguely remember asking him to come to bed. Insisting on it, actually.
Relaxing, I listen for his breath—still deep and even. I glance around the room. It’s plain but serviceable; very Tiernan. Dark wood furniture, navy sheets, and a solid gray comforter. This man needs some color in his life.
I can see the sunlight peeking in at the edge of the navy curtains, but I’m not sure of the time. I don’t want to move. Tiernan’s a furnace against my back and this bed is so comfy.
“Feeling better?” Tiernan’s voice is low and full of gravel, breath hot on the skin of my neck.
“Much.” I reply, my voice breathy and soft.
He’s still wrapped around me and showing no signs of getting up. I’m safe and he’s not leaving. In fact, he pulls me tighter against him. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of his morning wood fitting perfectly into the crack of my ass.
Fuck.
My breath quickens as anticipation races across my body. I push back against him. He buries his face in my neck with a groan.
“Don’t think I can hold back this time, ‘Lo. Watching you in the locker room almost killed me. It took everything I had to walk out of there without touching you. But I wanted to so badly.”
I roll over in his arms so we’re face to face.
“Don’t hold back, Tier. Not this time.” I want this, with him, more than anything, because this is becoming everything I’ve been afraid to hope for.
His hand cups the side of my face. It’s so gentle, almost reverent.
“You sure?” Those beautiful blue eyes, intense but unguarded.
“Oh yes.” I reassure him with a smile.
His answering smile reaches all the way to his eyes, and it stuns me with its beauty. Slowly, giving me every opportunity to say no, he lowers his mouth to mine, his breath warm against my skin. His lips are surprisingly soft as he presses them against mine.
Thumb stroking my jaw, his other hand moves to my hip, where it stays, solid and steady. He nips at my lower lip gently, and I open for him, letting our tongues tangle. My hands move to his chest, and the fabric of his t-shirt is soft against my palms.
We kiss until we run out of air. Panting, our eyes meet, both of us shocked by the heat of our connection. Despite only kissing, we’re both rock hard, our cocks rubbing against each other through the fabric of our underwear.
Tiernan reaches for the hem of my t-shirt, and I waste no time reaching for his. We fumble with the fabric, finally laughing and removing our own shirts instead. With a genuine smile, he runs his hands along my chest.
I take a minute to admire the sight of him spread out before me. He looks every bit as fit as the fighters he trains. My hands have a mind of their own, tentative at first, but with every caress comes more confidence. His chest hair is sparse but dark, with the perfect treasure trail.
“God, you’re beautiful, baby.” He murmurs. I didn’t believe him when he whispered it in the shower, but now, the look of reverence in his eyes has me feeling like it could be true.
He lets me explore, a bemused look on his face as if he can’t believe this is real. When my thumbs roll over his nipples, he groans, deep and loud, before he turns and eases me onto my back. His weight settles between my legs as his mouth descends, and I’m lost in the feel of his tongue against mine.
He rolls to his side, and I chase him as he pulls away. My heart stops. Derek used to make me chase him exactly like this. “Make me believe you really want me, Arlo.” It always felt wrong inside, as if I was never enough unless I was proving myself.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I nod.
His lips curl at the sides, a half-smile that’s somehow both sexy and sweet, before his lips connect to my neck, and one hand comes up to explore my chest like I explored his.
He’s not leaving. He’s not making me chase him. He’s taking his time, showing me with every touch how much he wants me.
My shoulders sag, and I relax in a way I never have before.
His palms sear my skin as they roam across my body. Caressing every inch until he pauses to run his thumbs lightly across my nipples. It’s like a line of liquid fire straight to my cock. A hungry moan escapes my lips before I can stop it.
“Mm, sensitive.” His smirk is sly as his mouth surrounds the hard bud with wet heat.
“That’s it. Love the sounds you make,” he grumbles, licking and sucking until the sounds coming out of me are positively obscene.
