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“Eh.” I stretched an arm along the high back of the sofa. “I’ve got a futon in the basement where I’ve got my weights and my desk where I handle business after hours. Got a TV down there. Don’t really need much else.”
“Don’t tell me such things.” Gideon leaned back like my arm was there especially for him. And maybe it was. “Now I’m picturing you working out.”
“Is it a good picture?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“It’s a very good picture.” Turning toward me, he licked his lips.
“Great,” I whispered, not doing a damn thing to move away. The room seemed to crackle with new energy. “You lift? You could come over…”
Eyes still locked on my mouth, he raised his eyebrows. “For the chance to see you all sweaty? I’ll risk pulling a hamstring.”
“I’d spot you.” I lowered my arm to his shoulder, and Gideon wiggled into my embrace like he’d been waiting for exactly this moment all day. God knew I had.
“Excellent.” He did a breathy exhale, head tilting back. With an invitation so clear and a whole day—okay years—of anticipation, no way could I keep fighting how much I wanted him. Leaning in, I closed the last few centimeters between us, mouths colliding.
And apparently, Mr. Bossy was occasionally good with someone else leading, even without a giant couch to lift, because he let me explore his mouth at my own pace. The other kiss had been frantic, all raw power and no chance to slow down. Here, I went slowly, so slowly, remembering how very much I liked kissing and how seldom I got to indulge.
His lips were sweet, little hints of the cookie from Cheryl’s platter he’d swiped earlier. And warm. Everything about him was so warm. Warm hand on my side. Warm tongue meeting mine. Warm little gasps. I’d put my body into the deep freeze for so long, and Gideon kept melting away every layer of ice I’d built up. He made it so damn easy to figure out what he liked—friction, movement, little bit of teeth, the sort of active kissing that had me harder than the fireplace mantel in no time flat.
“That’s nice.” He gave me a dreamy smile when I finally let him up for air.
“Nice?” I faked outrage. “That’s the best you can say?”
He stretched like a cat against me. “Hey, you want to earn stupendous, be my guest.”
Using his momentum, I tumbled us backward onto the couch. We ended up with him sprawled on top of me, both of us stretched out, legs tangled.
“That sounds like a challenge.” I grinned up at him before tugging him right back down for another kiss. This one was hotter, less sweet, more spice. He was back to being bossy, and I welcomed it with a low groan. Holding my face in his hands, he claimed my mouth until he wasn’t the only breathless one.
He broke away to offer me a wicked smile. “See? Couch was an excellent idea. We both fit.”
“You gonna admire my couch, or you gonna kiss me again?” I demanded. Hell, I’d bronze this thing if it got me more of Gideon.
He pretended to have to think, then laughed. “Kiss.”
Making out with him was such a joyous thing, all that optimism and humor he walked around with coming out in kisses that felt like basking in the spring sun.
“Fuck,” I groaned against his mouth as he moved his hands to my shoulders. The slight shift in position brought our denim-covered cocks into perfect alignment. I swept my palm down his sides, and he shivered. Hell. His scrapes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t you dare stop. I’m all healed. Promise.” He arched into my hand like a touch-starved pet. And lord, I wanted to give him everything he needed. “But I’m going to die if you don’t kiss me again.”
“Can’t have that.” I pulled him back down, mouth as hungry as the rest of me. His lips were delicious, but so were his jaw, his neck, and his ears. Drunk on him, I explored every inch he let me. Still bossy, he had no issue directing my mouth to the exact spot on his neck that made him gasp or stretching, so I had no choice but to capture his ear. He was a fucking wonder, and I wanted to do this until New Year.
“Paul.” Shuddering, he surged against me, grinding down, and all of a sudden, lasting another five minutes wasn’t going to happen, let alone the rest of the month. He was hard and solid, the perfect counterpoint to each of my own thrusts. Our hands became greedier as our movements gained momentum, me grabbing his ass and him wedging a hand under my shirt to clutch at my side. His fingers dug into my ribs, and I groaned.
“Fuck. You’re going to get me off.”
“Do it.” He was all wide-eyed wonder and husky demands, and hell if I could deny him a damn thing.
“You too.” Hand on his ass, I urged him faster, our kisses turning clumsy and that much hotter for it.
“Oh, I’m there. I’m there.” Crying out, he bucked hard against me, pushing me deep into the couch cushions, and that desperation was enough to pull me along with him over the edge.
“Fuck. Gideon.” I came in big, gasping waves, head falling back, eyes closing, lost to everything except how good this felt for long moments.
“Damn.” Voice drowsy, he rested his head on my chest, and I stroked his back, touch way gentler now.
“All that genius vocabulary and that’s the best you can offer?” I laughed and kissed the top of his head.
