AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Air rushes past my fingers as he sucks in a breath.
“He’s picturing you stripped naked, maybe gripping his hair as you drill into his mouth. Maybe he’s bent over for you. Or maybe … maybe he’s got you bent over, sexy ass in the air while he fucks the life out of you.”
Our faces are closer now, his eyes wide, lips wet and parted. “Is that whatyou’rethinking?”
Holy shit. An exhale bounces from me. My cock is making it hard to think, but I do know that question wasn’t curiosity. I do know the way he’s looking at me is inviting more. But I also know that Orson wasn’t prepared for whatever this situation is doing to us both.
So I give him honesty. “No.” My jaw tightens at his surprise. “Because I won’t fucking let myself.”
I shove away from him, leaving Orson’s shirt askew, a sliver of those delicious abs on display as he reorients himself.
He gives his head a shake and focuses back on me. Then he smiles. “See? Told you I don’t scare easy.”
I’m torn on whether to laugh or cry because no, he certainly doesn’t. And I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.
I give his ass a solid slap. “Get in the truck. We’ve had enough playtime for tonight.”
9
Orson
Ford dropsme back at my place, and even though I’m acting normally around him, I think I’m freaking out. No matter what I said, having his hands on me was nothing—nothing—like any other man before.
He’s right that work and play are two totally separate things.
I try to keep up myit doesn’t change anythingmentality. That drive to go with the flow and see what happens, but if “what happens” is anything like how I felt with Ford’s hands on me, I’ll be entering a whole new realm of possibility.
The question is do I want to?
The memory of Ford standing over me, his dark eyes fixed on mine, strong hands pressed to my skin, sends fizzy bursts of lust into my bloodstream. It didn’t take much to get me hard, but the cynical side of me is wondering whether that had less to do with Ford and more to do with the fact I haven’t had sex in years. There’s no way to deny that having his body pressed against mine felt good. Too good.
I trudge up my two front stairs and open the front door of my sweet little cottage. It’s just off Main Street and needed some serious repairs when I first bought it, but after a few years, my charming little one bedder feels like home. If it’s up to me, I’ll spend the rest of my life here. I mentally scoff at my naivety because I’ve had that thought before.
There’s a loud clunk as I drop my keys in the glass bowl by my front door and turn to lock up. The house is dark, but I make my way through the open living area easily and flip on the light.
Everything in here is white, navy, or brown, which helps me to relax.
I’m having a moment over nothing. That much is obvious even to me. Being with a man doesn’t freak me out; this isn’t some kind of gay panic. I think it’s more … general panic. I’m not sure how to be withanyone.
My friend Griff is going through the same thing after his split with his ex-wife, but where he feels like hehasto have sex to get it out of the way and off his mind, I’m happier going on without it. My spiral after Tara died led to a lot of cheap and nasty sex, and I swore I’d never go back there. I don’t need it. When I’m with someone, I want it to matter. I want it to mean more than an orgasm and a bit of sweaty fun.
And I think that’s the issue.
The thought of seeing Ford’s dick doesn’t get me excited, but the thought of Ford taking his time, touching me like I mean something to him,that’sthe part that gets me all twisted up inside.
So far as I can tell, Ford is a casual man. He mentions settling down one day like it’s a future thing, something that will slot into place when the time is right. It’s great confidence to have. I wish I could be more like that. But the next time I have sex with someone, I’m going to be dating them.
I’m not confident I could be in a relationship with another man, so dragging Ford into my mess is fucking crazy when we’ve got a good friendship going as it is.
The more I think about it though, the more it occurs to me that Iamready. To date. To maybe find someone I can love again.
My only problem is this overwhelming curiosity when it comes to Ford.
Who the hell knows what I’m going to do about that?
I take a quick shower and get changed into some pajamas, then hunt down dinner. I enjoy my quiet, simple life, but I also remember enjoying having someone to share all this domestic shit with. It’s getting to the point where that part of my life feels like so long ago I’m not even sure I’m the same person.
Actually, I’m not so sure I’m the same as any of the previous people I’ve been before.
