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“I do. Might have to check the dates, though, because it’s stuff I brought with me from Austin.”
“Really? You and Kenny never went bare?”
“No. He was always really fussy about anal sex and the mess and not wanting me to get his come all over the sheets after. I didn’t care one way or another, but looking back, I’m glad we always used condoms, considering he cheated on me so much our last few years together.”
“I’m glad you were safe.” The idea of Kenny running around on Michael—his dear, sweet, supportive Michael—and then having sex with him bare infuriated Josiah. Kenny could have exposed him to all manner of things. Maybe fussiness wasn’t such a bad—wait. “He didn’t wantyougettinghiscome on the sheets?”
“Yeah.” Michael’s tender smile never wavered. “I’m a switch, but Kenny wasn’t a fan of bottoming. He tried a few times for me but it just wasn’t something that got him off, so we stuck to the other way. How about you?”
“Me?” Josiah’s brain was still stuck on Michael liking to bottom, when everything about the cowboy screamed alpha top. The mental image of Michael bending over and letting someone fuck him heated Josiah’s blood in a fantastic way and sent happy signals right to his dick.
“Yes, you.” Michael brushed a thumb across his cheekbone. “What do you prefer?”
“I, um... I’m not sure?”
He gently drew Josiah down to sit beside him on the bed, that smile still firmly in place. Dark eyes gazed at him with curiosity and not an ounce of judgment. “Tell me why you aren’t sure.”
“Because the majority of my experiences with sex were transactional, rather than emotional. When I was homeless, I did what I had to do. When I was with Andy, things were really good. I know he saw me as a person, but he was very much an exclusive top, so I never got to explore that with him. Then I was too busy mourning him and working, establishing myself, to date. I wasn’t into casual like a lot of guys. And then Seamus, well, I don’t have to tell you what our roles were.”
“So you’ve never topped?”
“No.” He expected to be embarrassed admitting to not having tried something most gay men had explored by the age of twenty-eight, but he wasn’t. Because Michael wasn’t judging him, he was asking questions and learning. Collecting information so their first time together was wonderful, instead of peppered with regrets. Josiah didn’t want to regret his time with Michael, not a single second of it.
“Do you want to?” Michael lightly squeezed his hip. “Because I would love to feel you inside me, Josiah. Very much.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely. And again, we don’t have to do it tonight if you aren’t ready.”
Josiah was getting more ready by the minute. A huge part of his hesitation to advance his physical relationship with Michael was what Michael would expect from him. He’d assumed Michael would want to top, and Josiah had spent too many nights trying to sleep while his backside ached and Seamus snored away, to go there without a lot of mental and physical prep. And now Michael was flipping what Josiah had assumed to be true, and while his brain was still stumbling a little, his dick was very much on board with this turn of events.
“How about we see where things go,” Josiah said. “Is that okay?”
“That sounds perfect. And to get things started, may I take my shirt off?”
“Please.”
Michael turned the simple act of unbuttoning his flannel shirt into the sexiest kind of striptease, taking one button at a time, top to bottom, allowing the red-and-black material to reveal the smoothness of the white tee underneath. A white tee that stretched over his abs and dipped into the waist of his jeans. Michael rarely tucked his flannels in so the tucked-in undershirt was oddly sexy.
The flannel shirt hit the floor, showing off his muscled arms and shoulders. Not the bodybuilder type of muscles found on gym rats and fitness magazine cover models, but the kind created by hard work shoveling and roping and doing manual labor five days a week. Michael tugged the undershirt out of his jeans and added it to the pile on the floor. His torso was the same golden brown as his arms, with a smattering of dark brown hair on his abs and down his belly. The rest disappeared behind his belt and jeans, and Josiah resisted the urge to lean over and inhale. To touch and lick and explore the body on display for him.
And why the hell was he resisting what Michael offered so freely?
Josiah ran his palms over Michael’s bare arms, up to his shoulders, and then down his pecs to his lower belly. Light caresses that left no mark behind on the skin but imprinted his touch and warmth on Josiah’s senses. He stroked Michael’s back and arms again, loving the way Michael’s eyes went half-lidded, his whole body relaxing by degrees under the impromptu massage.
“Feels amazing,” Michael whispered. “Want to touch you, too.”
“Okay.” Josiah snagged the back of his shirt collar and tugged, hoping to be as sexy as Michael was in removing his clothes. Only the shirt got stuck around his head, didn’t lift enough in the front, and his glasses snagged in the material. Michael had to rescue him and his glasses from the shirt, and they both ended up laughing over the entire production. Josiah slid his glasses back on. “That’s not how I’d planned things going.”
Michael brushed his nose against Josiah’s, then kissed the tip. “I think it went perfectly. I love that we can laugh while being intimate. It speaks to our level of comfort with each other, I think.”
“It does.” He couldn’t remember ever laughing in bed with Seamus, and he was not going to bring his ex into bed with them now. Tonight was he and Michael, no one else. Not Seamus, not Kenny, not Andy or anyone else. Just them.
Josiah scooted toward the middle of the bed and pulled Michael on top of him, the position similar to how they’d kissed that first time under the stars. Michael rested one thigh between Josiah’s legs, a delightful pressure against his hard dick, Michael’s own erection firm against Josiah’s hip. Michael nuzzled his cheek before plundering his mouth, licking inside, exploring every possible inch with lips and tongue, leaving Josiah dizzy with desire.
They kissed and rutted together, and Josiah barely noticed when Michael slotted his entire body between Josiah’s legs. Their jeans-covered cocks rubbed in a simulation of sex that was everything he wanted and not quite enough. He reached between them and thumbed at his own fly button. The lack of space made the zipper difficult, until Michael sat up and helped. He tugged Josiah’s jeans off, followed by his socks, leaving him in his boxer briefs.
Michael watched him, cheeks flushed, chest heaving slightly, one hand fiddling with his own fly.
