Page 53 of Grumpy Bear

“Yeah?”

“This hole.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s fucking perfect.”

Remembering his sensitive nipples, I started tugging on them, and he rewarded me by pounding into me harder.

I loved watching him fuck me. I loved watching him openly, up close, without having to disguise my fascination. He was such a man. A beautiful beast of a man. His arms were tense and hard with the effort of holding himself over me, his back spread wide, his furry belly slapping against my aching balls.

Some part of my brain had been imagining him like this all along. All those frowns were the intensity of being inside me, holding back, wanting to devour and own me. All that angry intensity everyone shied away from was his passion bottled up. It was his essence leaking through.

Most people were afraid of it.

I was afraid of it ending.

“Get yourself off,” he warned, and I started to jack my cock furiously as he roared, the cords in his neck going taut.

The pulse of his ejaculation was subtle through the condom, but knowing he was coming inside me, because of me, that I could draw this out of a man like him… Fuck.

I choked on a sob as ropes of my own cum tore out of me.

“Yeah, that’s it!” he shouted. “Yes. Fuck!”

He collapsed onto me, grinding his belly hair against me, panting into the side of my neck.

I started giggling, one of those laughs that happens sometimes when you get off really hard. “Well,” I said, “that definitely happened.”

22

Sawyer

“It certainly did,” I said, unable to keep myself from mirroring Luke’s shit-eating grin. I blamed it on his infectious giddiness, but privately I was thinking What the fuck just happened? “Why are you laughing?”

“I honestly have no idea. That was just... really good.” The smile fell off Luke’s face, and he went still under me.

“Am I crushing you?”

“No.” He traced my lip with his finger and tugged at my beard. “I like it.”

This was the part where you would leap up, dispose of evidence, and find a towel to offer your campground hookup while he searched the floor for any items of clothing he might have shed. At the very least, he’d locate his shoes. After a sudden shift to small talk, he’d be out the door within two minutes.

Luke and I stayed together on the bed, tangled up in our own cooling mess, cataloguing new details of each other’s faces and taking turns sighing.

His sudden lack of babbling made me a little nervous though. “You good?” What I meant was, Was it okay, the sex, being here with me?

“I’m too comfortable to move, but…” He tapped experimentally at his sticky belly hair.

“Hold on.” I rolled away from him to the drawer in the side table, aware that our feet remained touching like we couldn’t stand to be completely separated. I tossed the condom and returned with a pack of baby wipes. “Ta-da.”

After a good enough for now cleanup session, Luke still wasn’t saying anything, and he wasn’t making eye contact any longer either. I braced myself for him to make some confession of regret. I grasped for a delay tactic, a distraction, normal conversation. “Did you check your phone?”

“Oh!”

It wasn’t my intention to have Luke leave my bed, and he responded a little too eagerly like he was relieved to slip out from under the glare of my focus. I was doing that thing—staring too intensely, trying to beam to him the thoughts I didn’t have words for.

I watched him pad across the room, taking the band from his wrist and pulling his hair up into a sloppy knot. He moved differently, comfortable now being naked in front of me.