Page 89 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“But I didn’t get the – the shark!”

“Uh, love, I’m holding it in my hand.”

Nolan’s cheeks went red at the name. “I didn’t win it, though.”

“You did! You played Frogger all day, from what I hear.” Reid couldn’t stop smiling.

“You heard?” Nolan questioned, head tilting to the side.

The courtyard was rundown, grown-over, and private. Reid had been meaning to repurpose it, turn his half into outdoor seating. But that required renovations, like tearing out his exposed brick wall, and summer had come and gone, and now that Nolan was here, Reid was thankful for his procrastination.

Reid pushed him against the wall, squishing the stuffie between them.

“I thought you were at home today.” In fact, Nolan had sent him a picture just that morning of the senior cat he’d adopted lounging in the sunlight against the window. “You sent me a photo of your damned cat!”

Nolan grinned deviously. “I know.”

“You’re here!”

“I know,” he laughed, and god, Reid had heard that laugh through the phone for months, letting it keep him awake far into the night as they talked and talked to try and make up for the miles between them, but it was so much better in person.

“God, I missed you,” Reid said, practically whimpering as he crushed his mouth to Nolan’s again.

“I missed you, too,” Nolan breathed in between kisses.

He rocked his hips away from the wall, grinding his hard length into Reid and making his breath catch.

“In front of Banana Shark?” Reid whispered, scandalized. “Here?”

“Unless you don’t want to—”

“Now, hey, I didn’t say that,” Reid interrupted, slipping his hands down to circle his hips and pull him forward.

“You gonna make us walk home with come in our pants?” Nolan asked.

“Babe.” Reid pulled back, brow arched. “I can fly, remember?”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Reid groaned, letting Nolan taste it straight from his lips as Reid thrust against him.

“God, I can’t believe you’re here,” Reid groaned. Pleasure raced up and down his spine, arching anew each time he ground forward, the friction and pressure of Nolan’s weight and the hard line of his cock beginning the circuit all over again.

“This is so much better in person,” Nolan whined, head tipping back against the wall.

Dropping his head, Reid licked a stripe up his neck, ending in a nip over his pulse, feeling it race against his tongue.

The past six months had been a wonder, teaching Nolan all about the notion of sexting. Turns out, he’d been a natural.

“Six months, Nolan,” Reid breathed against his throat. Nolan’s hands traced up his back, threading through his hair despite the ponytail, and tugging deliciously.

A moan slipped out, just at the gentle pull, and Reid let Nolan guide his head back. “I know. But it’s done. Everything’s over, finally,” Nolan promised. “Except us. And we’ve got time to make up for.”

“Starting now?” Reid asked, with a punctual grind against Nolan.

“Starting—fuck, now,” he agreed. “You’re so hot. I missed you so much.”

Their rhythm grew desperate, barely in sync, but each grind was better than the last, sending them both closer as they panted into each others’ mouths.