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I roll side-on so I can face him. “Maybe we should try this with our shirts off?”
The only sign he gives me that he’s registered my words is his gaze dropping to my lips. “Thought you’d never ask.”
I sit up, and we both make quick work of stripping out of our T-shirts. I’m about to lie back when I pause, taking a moment to check him out. Tattoos from his neck to the waistband of his pants, that sexy barbell threaded through his nipple. Hair that runs from his chest and down over his solid belly. He’s stocky but hard. My cock pulses as my gaze meets the solid outline against his fly.
“M-maybe without pants,” I manage to get out through the nerves and raw want.
Ford grunts and pulls me back against him. The heat from his skin is like a furnace. “Soon. Just relax again.”
“You think I’m scared, don’t you?”
“You trying to tell me you’re not?” His hands settle over my abs, thumb gently tracing the line between them. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to stop yourself doing things because of it, but it’s also okay to do things even though they scare you. I’m not in a hurry, Orson.”
Hearing him say my actual name sends shivery happiness over me.
“You said you don’t really have a type …”
“Mmm.”
“So what’s your favorite thing about being with a man?”
“That’s a bit of a loaded question because I can’t compare it to being with another gender.”
“True … okay, well, what’s your favorite part of being with someone. Besides them having a great butt or a nice-tasting cock—”
His laughter is loud in my ear. “You’ve obviously never tried to pick up a man. Do me a favor and if you ever suck a cock one day, make sure you tell the dude it’s ‘nice-tasting.’”
“You can remind me when I suck yours.”
That shuts him up.
And yeah, I saidwhenbecause I’m pretty sure I mean it. The more he touches me, the more his hands explore, the more I want to do the same to him. I’m relaxing into it and switching off some of those doubts and dumb conditioned thoughts. When I’m with him, I want him. It shouldn’t matter what gender he is. I wish I knewhowto take control—it’s like I’m back in high school and trying to lose my virginity.
“You didn’t answer me,” I say.
“My favorite part?”
“Yeah …”
“I love knowing that I’m turning them on. That I’m making them feel good. There’s no more amazing feeling than being with someone and losing yourself in their body and knowing they’re doing the same. I mean, yeah, dicks and butts are hot as hell, I’ve also eaten out a trans dude, which was a new experience, but none of the physical stuff compares to the …” Ford’s fingers dance along my V, and a spear of blinding hot lust shoots straight to my dick.
Goddamn.
“To that,” he whispers hoarsely. “There’s nothing I want more than to make your body sing.”
He’s doing it too. Barely touching me and I’m jelly for him.
“What about you?” he asks. “What’s your favorite part?”
“I don’t think I want to say.”
“Why not? Love eating pussy and you don’t want to tell me because I don’t have one of those?”
I elbow him. “Doubt that will be a problem, you idiot.”
“Then what is it?” His voice is softer this time. His I-can-be-serious-sometimes tone.
“The love.”
