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He didn’t speak before lowering his mouth to mine. His scruff rubbed against mine as Charles pressed kisses against my lips. His mouth was soft. That was the thought that kept working into my brain.
When his tongue licked at me, I opened and he slipped inside. A sound came from deep in his chest, and I swallowed it down, would drink anything he gave me. Charles fed me his tongue, and damned if I didn’t feel like I was starving for it, as if I wouldn’t ever get my fill.
It was too much. I understood that. I would likely scare him away, but I always felt things too much. I didn’t know how to be anything else.
Our tongues tangled, and now it was me who was feeding him needy sounds. I threaded my hand through his hair, tried to tug him closer, to pull him inside me. I hadn’t known kissing could feel like this—this big, this consuming. I never wanted it to end.
Charles shifted against me. His erection pressed hard against my hip, making me tense up slightly and him pull away.
“That’s enough for tonight.”
“You’re hard.”
“It’ll go down.”
Charles leaned over and turned off the light. He kept touching me, though, kissing my chest, brushing his thumbs over my nipples, running his fingers up and down my torso, until I fell asleep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Charles
I couldn’t stop thinking about Brian, and the more my thoughts circled around him, the more nervous I became. The other night had been incredible. I’d loved every second of it and felt so honored that it was my touch he craved, that he felt whatever it was he felt about me. But it was also scary as fuck. What if I did the wrong thing? What if I hurt him? I’d assured Emerson I wouldn’t, that I was only going to be friends with Brian. Now we’d discovered he was likely demi or gray-sexual, and wanted me. I had to admit, I didn’t have experience being with someone on the ace spectrum. How did the fact that he possibly felt sexual attraction toward me factor into how he identified? The truth was, there wasn’t an answer, not really, because there weren’t specific rules. Like so many things, it was a spectrum, and no two people lived any experience the same.
On top of that was his anxiety. That wasn’t something I was familiar with either. I did some research, but there were no clear-cut answers. Everyone was different, so how I reacted to a situation with him would be different from how I would with someone else. We just had to find that middle ground.
All that weighed down on me because I liked Brian. I enjoyed spending time with him. I was attracted to him and didn’t want to fuck this up. I didn’t know what all this meant, which ramped up my fear of him deserving more than what I might have to give. Hurting Brian wasn’t something I would ever do on purpose, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen.
The way he’d smiled at me the morning we’d woken up in his bed flashed through my head. He was such a rough-around-the-edges kind of man, but there was also a softness to him, and when he turned those bashful, unsure eyes on me, it almost stopped my heart. It had been awkward at first, but I’d just tried to be teasing and playful as we’d made breakfast together.
We had been halfway through eating when his work called and asked if he could come in since they were short-staffed. That was three days ago, and while we’d texted some, we hadn’t seen each other since. Brian had worked every day, two of which he hadn’t originally been scheduled, and he put me off when I mentioned dinner.
The truth was, I didn’t push either, and now here I was, going to Emerson’s instead of making my way to Brian’s.
My friend was outside when I pulled up. It felt like he was always outside doing something. He’d been a suit-and-tie man in the city, but it was now clear how much Emerson loved working with his hands and being in the outdoors.
He was shirtless, which wasn’t great for his skin, and his shaggy, brown hair was wet with sweat. When I got out and went to him, the first thing I said was, “Do you ever stop working?”
“I’m done now. Sam was giving me shit already. I don’t need it from you too.”
“I love it when you’re grumpy with me,” I teased, which promptly made Emerson give me the finger.
“Is that why you’re always so annoying?”
“Absolutely,” I replied. Emerson offered a small smile before motioning toward the house. I followed him inside, where Sam had just come out of the shower. His hair was wet, and he too was shirtless. “There’s a whole lot of sexy man in this house.”
