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He cupped my face between his palms and crushed his mouth to mine, stealing my thoughts and my breath and my anchor to reason. This felt so incredible. I wanted him desperately, before now, but especially after what we’d done in the office…
I pressed my palm to his chest, barely aware of the gesture until I pushed him back with a no.
Someone could let me off this emotional roller coaster now, please, while it was cresting a peak again.
Dustin’s growl made my flames of need surge, but he stepped back, breaking the contact between us. “You’re right.” He scrubbed his face, sat on the bed, and patted the mattress next to him.
I sat, keeping some distance between us, but not much. What now?
Silence again, apparently.
“Why art? What made you pick up a pencil and say I’m going to get better at drawing?” Dustin’s question was so random, so far away from the core of whatever this mess was, I almost smiled through the sadness, frustration, and confusion.
“This may surprise you, but I’m not always the best at expressing myself through words.”
“I find that hard to believe.” His tone was sincere.
I ducked my head. “Not everyone appreciates my… quirks.” Which I didn’t really have to think about around him. Or Phillip. The fallout from the fight at Brandon’s would fade, right? Things would be better in the morning? “The drawing started as an outlet, and it made me so happy, I kept doing it. What about you?”
“Nothing nearly so noble.”
This conversation, this moment, was surreal. A bubble of peace in the middle of a storm. “My reasons are hardly noble.”
Dustin smirked. “I liked drawing dicks on things.”
I laughed in spite of myself.
He joined in with a light chuckle. “Told you. I had an art teacher who said if I was going to do that, I should at least learn to do it right.”
“Did your parents know?” Me, with my conservative upbringing couldn’t fathom being encouraged at a young age to draw genitalia.
“Knew. Encouraged it. As long as what I was doing wasn’t sexual, they were proud of me for being adult enough to handle nude drawing.”
I studied him with skepticism. “It was sexual.”
Dustin shrugged. “I was fifteen. It was completely sexual. But only until the novelty of drawing dicks wore off. Then my interest was real, and I was good. I wanted to be the best.”
“You’re pretty amazing.” I should qualify that. “At drawing.” And other things. “And other things.”
He covered my hand with his, and warmth wrapped around me. “I’m not the best yet,” he said. “But there’s still time.”
His confidence was so sexy. Then again, most things about him were. Same for Phillip.
Now the ache was back. I’d only known these men a few weeks. Was I letting the physical override common sense? Maybe, but it didn’t feel like it.
I just didn’t know what it felt like instead, or where to start untangling everything churning inside me.
We kept talking, and I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until I woke up with Dustin wrapped around me. This was so comforting and right.
“Too early,” Dustin mumbled against my back.
It really was. Sadness whispered through me as his fight with Phillip rushed back, but it was sandwiched between two wonderful moments. Dustin and Phillip would be okay today, right? This was the kind of thing they could talk through and things would be all right?
Why did it matter so much to me? It was their argument.
But it did matter, even if I couldn’t put the why into words.
The mattress shifted as Dustin sat up. “Yesterday was amazing,” his voice was heavy with sleep and the huskiness was enticing. “The sex at the office, but also talking last night.”
