I nod, and note how flush his cheeks have gotten, being eye-level with my ass. Teasingly, I give him a little shimmy, my athletic shorts-clad ass brushing lightly against his nose. I swear I hear the slightest of groans get caught in his throat.
“Why are you like this?” he whines, setting me back down.
“Like what?” I ask, innocently batting my eyelashes at him.
“Youknowwhat, Caleb,” he huffs. “Is this how it’s going to be all weekend? You doing to me what you do at work all the time? You’re always fucking teasing me, trying to turn me on. God, do you know how much rotten herring I’ve had to snort because of you and your infuriatingly hot ass?”
“I thought you like being edged and teased.” I wink at him.
He scowls at me. “I do! The absolute worst part is knowing that you’re aware of that fact, and you keep using it to your benefit! I’veneverhad to go home and jerk off in the shower after work as much as I have since taking this particular job… with you!”
“You jerk off in the shower because of me? Are you thinking of me when you do?”
The redness in his cheeks bleeds down into his neck. “Yes, and yes,” he admits sheepishly.
“I thought you didn’t want this.” I state, gesturing between us.
“Oh, no. I definitely do,” he croaks. “I just want Lauren to be happymore.”
“That’s mighty selfless of you. But she also wanted this too, it seems.”
He sighs, raking his fingers through his curls aggressively. He blinks, studying me, then licks his lips. “I’m also worried that you’re going to push me to come out before I’m ready, C.”
I shake my head. “I get why you never did, remember? Lauren told me your parents might not be accepting and that worries you.”
“It more than worries me,” he whispers. “It terrifies me. I’ve built my entire adult life on this illusion that I’m a hetero, monogamous family man.”
I nod. “And where does your happiness—your honesty—fall into the equation?”
“It lands on the back-burner.”
I step in closer. “It shouldn’t. Not anymore.”
His eyes darken as they flit around my face, like he’s searching for more answers to the unasked questions thick between us. “Happiness, to me, would be all of us together…” he finally rasps.
On that confession, I close the gap between us and lift up on my tip-toes, bringing my lips to his. Instead of backing away, like I half expect him to, he leans down and presses back. My tongue swipes across the seam of his lips, begging for entry, which he grants after a millisecond of pause. One of my palms connects with his throat, and I tug him down to me more. Tilting my head, I deepen the kiss, our tongues slipping past each other as we breathe the same air.
The kiss feels like something totally new and a homecoming all in the same token. Almost a decade has passed since I felt his lips on mine, heard him moan into my mouth like this, felt the electric spark of lust between us—but no matter the span of time, it feels just like it did before. Warm, welcoming, and where I want to spend my eternity.
Marcus Antonucci’s kisses are just like feeling the warm sun dance across your skin on the coldest of winter days. They feel like being wrapped in a security blanket and tucked into bed at night. They make me feel like what it’s like to be cherished. And when he lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist, I feel like I’m someone precious to him—someone he can’t bear to let go of.
He carries me like this, our lips still locked on each other, over to the couch. Gently, he sits me down on the cushions. Then, he straddlesmy lap and cups my cheeks. Panting for air, we never truly break our connection. My hands glide around to his backside, and I grip his asscheeks firmly—kneading them roughly.
“Oh god,” he murmurs on my lips, back arching forward, his hardened cock brushing past mine through the thin fabric of his own athletic shorts. The harder I massage the plump globes of his ass, the more his hips buck into me, grinding himself on me. “C, I fuckin’ need you.”
I can’t verbalize just how much I need him too. I can’t use my hands to do this and also say all the filthy things running through my mind right now, and it’s killing me. Instead, I have to rely on my body language to do all the talking for me.
My forearms squeeze tighter around his waist, urging him to grind harder, faster. Pressing into him to encourage him to take what he wants from me. Underneath his considerable weight, because of our massive size differential, I nudge my hips up to further deliver the message.
He leans forward, rocking harder, chasing his pleasure. I move one of my hands, sliding up the backside of his shirt, and then tug it off of him entirely. When he sits back a bit, I allow myself to get an eyeful of his dark-hair covered chest, which he instinctually tries to cover up under the weight of my appreciative gaze before I bat his hands away.
“You’re perfect,” I tell him earnestly. “Don’t ever hide yourself around me. You can hide yourself away from the world, if that’s what you want, but never around me.”
“You want this?” he asks, his brow furrowed with concern.
I nod. He arches his head back, sighing as he studies my ceiling. I nudge my hips up to get his attention back on me. “What’s going on in that head of yours right now?”
“What if all this between us is just sexual chemistry that just—I don’t know—fizzles out or whatever? And if that happens, what if it drives a wedge between you and Lauren?”
