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This was so much better than talking about work or family or any of the million other things in our lives. It was pure connection. When Mikey and I were pressed close together like this with nothing between us, I felt the simple joy of being in the moment with him, of knowing we were each other’s everything right then regardless of what came before or after.
“Please,” he said on a gasp. “Don’t fuck with me right now. I can’t take it.”
I didn’t question him. Instead, I simply slicked up my fingers and prepped him quickly while leaning up to murmur words in his ear.
“Watching you beg with your ass in the air like this makes me want to come all over you. You’re so fucking beautiful. I can’t believe I get to be with you like this. That’s it. Fuck, you feel good. Shit, oh god, Mike. Fuck. Let me in, baby.”
I finally suited up and pressed my dick against his opening, running my hands up his back and into his hair before leaning down along his back and thrusting my hips forward some more.
Mikey sucked in a breath, and I stilled, waiting for him to adjust. When his hand came back and grabbed my leg, I knew he was ready.
I pounded that poor Texan chef into the floor of the cave like our very lives depended on it. Thankfully, we were alone in the house because Mikey couldn’t stay quiet. He shouted and cried out until his voice sounded wrecked and my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest.
At one point I pulled out, flipped him onto his back, and shoved a pillow under his ass before finding my way back inside his hot body. He was sweaty and flushed, glassy-eyed and dazed. When I finally found just the right spot and hammered it over and over again while he jacked himself, his eyes widened and then squeezed closed.
His body contracted for a minute before his release hit. Watching him come was the best thing ever, and it always seemed to speed up my own orgasm. I came hard inside him until I felt as wrecked as Mikey sounded.
Sex with him was intense, whether it was hot and hard or slow and sweet. It wasn’t transactional like the guys I’d been with in the past. It was a meaningful physical addition to the emotional connection we’d spent years building.
I finally felt like we were exactly the way we were meant to be: together in every way.
It was clear to me I was falling hard for him, and when I woke up to his sweet kisses a little while later in the silent early morning hours, I did my best to tell him so with the slow, tenderness of our lovemaking. I’d woken up spooned around his back, and, after sliding a condom on, I slid easily into his still-slick channel and rolled my hip gently in and out of him until I felt the hot drip of a tear hit my arm.
“Baby?” I murmured into the skin behind his ear.
He shook his head. “Keep going,” he whispered roughly. “Feels so good.”
I thought the tear was a happy one. It was only days later, after things had gotten weird between us again, that I began to wonder if the tear hadn’t been a happy one after all.
22
Mikey
Leaving the sleepy, warm embrace of the man I loved was pretty much the worst thing ever. But I’d made a deal with the devil, and it was time to pay the price.
I snuck out of Tiller’s bed, away from his warm body, and made my way to my bedroom. I’d already spent most of the afternoon yesterday preparing meals to help tide him over while I was gone. He had much more knowledge and resources now than he’d had five years before, so I knew he’d be fine whether I’d cooked for him or not. But he was right when he said cooking for someone was how I showed them love. Even the fridge and freezer were full to the brim of his favorite meals.
After packing for longer than the original week I’d planned, I headed out to my car and tossed my luggage in the hatchback. The drive to the airport was uneventful, save for the mental cursing I did at my father.
Of course I’d agreed to his terms. When Tiller had come back from the specialist with fear in his eyes, it hadn’t even been a question. I’d told myself it wasn’t a big deal. I could change my mind at any time. It wasn’t like I was giving Tiller up for good. As long as Tiller didn’t have to play this week, I could deal with the rest of it later.
In the meantime, I mourned the loss of my father, of the man I’d thought he was, had hoped he was. It was clear to me now he wasn’t that man. Maybe he never had been. He cared more about his job than my heart, and that was an incredibly heartbreaking and bitter pill to swallow.
