“You want to come, love?”
“Fuck… yes. Please…”
A low breath leaves me, almost a laugh. “Needy tonight, aren’t you?”
That's all it takes. His whole body goes tight in my arms, a broken sound tearing out of him as he loses himself in my grip. Cheek melting against mine. I kiss him there as he pulls me straight over the edge with him.
One last slam. One last grind against that perfect ass.
I fucking lose it, riding it out in heavy waves. Still coming as I bend down to rest against the damp hollow of his neck.
“I love you.” It rises from somewhere deeper than thought.
He doesn’t say it back, but that’s okay. Maybe he needs time. There’s no rush. I told him how I feel, and Mister Flight Response is still here. That counts as a win, so I’m leaving it alone.
I ease out, and we collapse together, our chests rising and falling in the same broken rhythm. Nothing has ever felt like that.
Yosh stays facedown for a second, catching his breath, then rolls toward me. His eyes are glassy, sweat beading along his temple
“You okay?” he whispers. “Heart still intact?”
I punch his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I was on easy mode.”
“Easy mode?” he scoffs, dropping back onto the mattress.
He fumbles with the clasp of his necklace, the one with the dark stone he always wears.
“You want help?”
I reach for it, but Yosh catches my hand and places it back on his hip.
“I need to take it off myself.”
“Is it hurting you?”
“Yes,” he says softly. “It is.”
The chain slips free from his neck. He sets it on the nightstand, glancing at it before crawling back into my arms. He guides my face to his chest. His breath settles in my curls, warm as fog after tropical rain. Soft hands find my neck, kneading away some sore spots.
I remember that morning in the bloody police cell and how badly I’d wanted these hands on me. Wanted them to touch, to comfort, to take care of me. Now they do, and it feels like everything.
“Breathe in with me,” he murmurs, sternum rising under my cheek. “Hold it a moment… now let it fall out of your chest. Slow, easy. Together.”
We do it again, and again. One more time.
His fingers slide into my hair, a sigh turning into a groan as his fingers massage my scalp.Please let me live here.
Cigarette between my lips, lighter in hand, I step outside.
I drop into a porch chair and light up. Two long drags. In. Out.
My shoulders loosen as I slide lower in the seat.
Doesn’t this feel fucking perfect? I swear, it’s like an angel pissing a ray of bliss straight onto my tongue.
My gaze follows Yosh as he heads for the outdoor shower. One of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere. You can walk naked through your garden at night because the nearest neighbours are ten minutes away by car.
No chance of cops banging on your door because everyone and their dog just saw you shagging in front of the window. Which, for the record, only happened once. I was tripping balls.
