Page 43 of The True-Blue Romance

My skin prickles and my head spins when he reaches between us to wrap his hand around my cock, tugging slightly until I’m moaning against his mouth. Fuck, I want him inside me. Joey yanks away with a pained groan, lips shiny with spit and parted as he breathes quickly. I’m still astounded by the fact I do that to him. I make Joey so turned on he can barely think straight. He lifts to sit back on his knees and grabs the lube and condom. I can’t even start to be nervous when Joey is looking at me like he wants to fucking eat me alive. Joey squeezes an obnoxious amount of lube on his fingers, then hooks my legs over his arms and tugs until he’s nestled between my splayed legs. His eyes don’t leave mine as he circles my hole with one finger, seemingly only interested in my reaction.

I swallow hard and wiggle, wishing he’d just get on with it. I want him inside me so badly that I feel like I would weep at the absence of him.

“Please,” I beg, desperate.

Joey must’ve been waiting for exactly that word because he pushes his finger in up to his knuckle, and I moan at the relief his touch brings. My eyes start to fall closed, but Joey pinches my thigh to keep my gaze on him. When he pulls out and squeezes lube onto his fingers, then pushes a second finger in so that he can shove the lube back inside me, I almost lose my fucking mind. Joey knows how to fuck. I expected a lot of things, but not this self-assured sex demon. Whatever he sees on my face—probably my wide-eyed, deer-caught-in-headlights gaze—has him yanking his fingers out and then hurriedly ripping the condom open.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Joey says as he falls back down to press over me, his cock notching against my hole. I lift a little, wishing he could just slip inside, and Joey’s grin grows a shade darker. He hooks my leg over his arm and bends me in a shape that shouldn’t be possible and starts to push inside. I take a deep breath, pushing out to make the slide home easier.

Joey’s groan is indecent as he slips farther in. “You’re so tight, Jesus Christ.”

I glide my hands up his back, holding on for the ride. “Keep going.”

“Fuck,” Joey swears, then slides the entire way in.

I’m so full. Too full. It’s been years. But I just breathe through it, and Joey seems to understand because he stays still. Everything falls into place when Joey kisses me again, his lips loosening me up until I’m tipping my hips up to meet his gentle thrusts. When he hits my prostate, I almost scream, but instead I just groan, low and long. Joey grins against my mouth, tasting like heaven and sin at the same time. The best of both worlds. If heaven’s real, it’s surely this bedroom in Clay Springs, with my and Joey’s bodies finally meeting after so many years kept apart.

“Can I just—” Joey pauses and groans, his forehead tipping against mine. “Can we stay like this? We’ll do it the other way next time, but I just really want to kiss you and see you.”

I can’t even form words. Fuck. I bury my fingers in his hair and kiss him with all the air in my lungs. Joey’s pace quickens and I can feel him everywhere. He’s inside me, in my heart and everywhere else he could ever be. Sex has never felt like this before in my life. My heart hammers in my chest, like a bird running to take flight. And Joey’s mouth feels like it belongs on mine forever. Oh god. Do not cry, Andrew.

Joey’s pace picks up, and I suddenly and profusely need him to come inside me. I think about the idea of there being no condom between us, of his cum staying inside me, and my cock somehow gets even harder, my balls tightening painfully at the very thought. Oh fuck. As if Joey can read my mind, his hand sneaks between us to take me in a firm grip, tugging with the same rhythm of his cock inside me.

Joey lifts onto his forearm, hand gripping my cock tighter, eyes manic in their glow. “Come on my cock, baby. Come. I want to see.”

And my body just… listens. A tsunami of pleasure rolls over me, making me tip my head back and grit my teeth, my toes curling against Joey’s calf. Fuck. I swear to god, I see stars behind my eyelids at the exquisite pleasure. Joey continues to gently move his hand as his pace finally reaches a crescendo, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes with a low groan. He immediately falls on top of me, smearing my cum over both of our bodies. Hell. I squeeze my arms tighter around him as he pants against my neck, seemingly coming back down to earth with me.

If it’s always like this, I’ll never survive Joseph Rossi. Maybe I understand now why people talk about sex being an out-of-this-world thing. Loving Joey as much as I do and having shared this moment with him, I’ll never be the same.

“I love you,” I whisper into Joey’s sex-mussed hair. God, I still can’t believe this is real.

“I fucking love you more,” Joey says on a little laugh.

Oh. Life really is worth living.

After we catch our breath, Joey stumbles out of bed and toward the bathroom. The water runs for a few moments, then Joey returns with a wet washcloth. He sweetly wipes me clean, even between my ass cheeks, which makes me blush furiously. Joey just grins lecherously at me, confirming again that I might not survive him in bed.

With a tired groan, Joey tosses the washcloth onto the ground with a plop. I wince and immediately want to clean up, but that idea disappears quickly when Joey climbs into the bed and wraps himself around me like some sort of deep-sea barnacle. Oh. Relaxation sweeps over me like I’ve never experienced before.

Joey presses a kiss to my temple and whispers, “Sleep, baby.”

And just like that, I fall asleep.

I wake up at sunrise; it’s impossible not to, even on my days off. Weekends in May and June are free since we don’t have the farm open for u-pick or festivals. We learned a long time ago to not do u-pick for watermelons because someone somehow always gets injured and the liability waivers are a pain. So, we just farm May through July, opening back up to the public in August for the start of fake fall in Florida.

Doesn’t mean my body understands the lack of need to wake early on the weekends though. Joey and I drifted apart in our sleep, with him starfished out on his belly. His curly hair is a mess, his perpetual five-o’clock shadow in need of a shave because he hates when it gets into beard territory like mine. I rub my beard while closing my eyes to take stock of my body. Everything aches a little because it’s been so long since I’ve had sex. My ass is definitely off-limits for a few days.

Joey sleeps like the dead—he always has—so I roll over to study him in the dark. My brain still finds it hard to believe I have the freedom to touch him now, to look at him, to simply want him after almost twenty years of doing it all in secret. I reach out slowly to rest my hand over one of his bare shoulder blades. The scar from falling off his bike when we were teenagers is still there, although not as pronounced as it used to be. I rub my finger over it gently, committing the feeling to memory. His skin is warm, and when I shift closer, he smells like he always smells. Like Joey. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, committing that usual Joey scent to memory too.

“Are you smelling me?” Joey asks, voice rough and deep from sleep.

My cheeks warm and I dip my face to hide from him, pressing my forehead to his curved bicep. “No.”

“Thought it was kinda cute if you were. Come here,” Joey says before wrapping his arm around me and then tugging me closer until he’s lying half on top of me, his face pressed against my neck. “You smell good too.”

“Want some coffee?”

“I’ll make you tea and we can watch the sun come up,” Joey amends, wanting to take care of me like usual.