Page 81 of Fish Out of Water

With a soft grunt, Robbie pushed himself inside Jake, inch by inch. Whatever Jake had been worrying about when they first sat down on the bed together was long gone. Nothing was wrong now. Robbie was still Robbie, and Jake was still Jake, and they both wanted each other more than words could convey.

Jake rested his hands on Robbie’s hips, trying his best not to dig his fingers in enough to hurt. That initial effort was in vain, as with every thrust, every little bit deeper Robbie got, Jake’s grip tightened until Robbie’s otherwise flushed skin was white where Jake’s fingertips rested.

Jake’s breath came in quick, shallow puffs. Robbie’s breaths matched his, a sheen of sweat forming on his chest. The bed, unlike much of the house, was silent beneath them. Only the rustling of sheets and their own strangled whimpers and moans filled the silence.

Robbie lowered his head enough to capture Jake’s lips in his. A hard, desperate kiss left Jake’s lips on fire. Another one, sloppier this time, made him gasp and pull his head back. He would have done anything for Robbie in this moment.Anything.

His toes curled, then his entire body clenched, and Robbie stilled, resting his forehead against Jake’s. His breath was hot, and his skin sticky. Slowly, he lowered himself down beside Jake, his chest still heaving.

“More,” Jake mumbled. “I want more.”

Robbie gave a light, breathless laugh. “You insatiable freak. Another day, maybe.”

Jake pulled himself up against the pillows, his legs still trembling from moments earlier. “Here? At your place?”

Robbie was still smiling like a fool. “Why not?”

“Because this isn’t going to last.”

“Yeah, I know. I can still enjoy it. Isn’t that the whole point?”

Jake relaxed a bit. As long as he and Robbie were still on the same page, he didn’t feel guilty taking full advantage of Robbie’s beautiful home—and his beautiful body.

A gentle drizzle started outside, pattering against the roof and leaving droplets on the balcony windows. It was just cozy enough to get a man like Jake to settle back into bed and cuddle with Robbie, who wrapped his arms around Jake and closed his eyes.

“This is why I don’t break that rule,” Jake said softly.

“Mm,” Robbie murmured, nestling his face into the crook of Jake’s neck.

And then he was asleep, and Jake was left staring up at the dark ceiling and wondering how he was ever going to move on from this.

He awoke squintingand shielding his eyes from the bright sun streaming in through the windows, now regretting not having Robbie close the curtains the night before. The rain had ceased overnight, leaving what little Jake could see through his bleary eyes a vibrant, chlorophyll-drenched green.

He shifted his gaze to Robbie, who was still fast asleep beside him, his arm draped over Jake’s stomach and his chin on Jake’s shoulder.

His lips pouted slightly when he slept, his thick lashes sweeping just above his cheekbones. He really was the ideal model: hot enough to stare at and not grow tired of, yet not too perfect to be unobtainable. And somehow, Jake had been the one to get him—or at least a part of him.

After a moment, his eyes fluttered open. When he realized that Jake was watching him, he smiled slightly. “Good morning,” he said, his voice hoarse with sleep.

He shifted, raising his arm to run his thumb along Jake’s jawline. There was a hint of stubble there from not shaving yet, and Jake realized his rendezvous would be painfully obvious to anyone who saw him over the next few hours.

“I should go,” he said.

“No, stay for breakfast.” Robbie sat up, pulling the duvet off himself.

Jake looked down. He’d fallen asleep with the blanket draped over his whole body, and he’d slept the entire night that way. That had never happened before, not even in Jake’s own bed back at his old apartment.

“What’s wrong?” Robbie asked.

“Ugh, this.” Jake lifted the duvet and let it float back down, the thick, feathery covering outlining his contours clumsily.

“Oh, yeah. We should’ve made sure to climb under the covers properly before we allowed ourselves to fall asleep last night.” Robbie smiled sleepily, entirely misunderstanding what Jake was alluding to.

As Robbie had made Jake aware of, they’d been too tired to pull anything more than the topmost cover over their bodies as they settled into the bed last night, and now they were paying for it by lying in a mess of wrinkled, uncomfortable sheets. Robbie’s own skin—his soft, usually smooth skin—was marked red in spots by the creases in the sheets, though Jake’s view of those marks was quickly obstructed when Robbie pulled a silvery blue silk bathrobe on.

“Keep it classy,” Jake said.

“This is my house,” Robbie retorted. “I can wear what I want.”