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Holden sags forward, his cock still cupped in his hand, his hair wild around his face.
“Fuck,” he mutters, a droplet of sweat moving down his cheek. He looks completely wrecked. “Just, hold on. Give me a minute. Feel like I’m going to pass out.”
He inhales deeply and then exhales, his face suddenly looking pale, and my hands move off the bed to cup his hips, worry gnawing at me.
“You okay?” I ask, my thumbs smoothing over his hip bones.
His eyes meet mine, and he offers me a wobbly smile. “Yeah, just…just, I have a heart condition. Need a minute.”
A heart condition?And he just fucked me like a rodeo star. What the hell?
“You gonna die on me?”
He manages a small eye roll. “No, it’s not that serious. Just inconvenient.”
He pulls off of me, climbing off the bed and moving to the bathroom, his steps hurried. I hear a cough and then the water running, and I sit up, staring at the condom on my cock. Shit.
I need to get rid of this and check on him.
I pull it off and toss it into the trashcan, moving toward the bathroom, realizing a little too late that I should put on some pants. But I’m here. Nothing to do about it now.
I see Holden leaning against the counter, his cheeks still pale, his body trembling.
I move up behind him and our eyes meet in the mirror. I don’t touch him, but I can feel the heat of him between us.
“I’ll be fine,” he whispers, breathing deeply through his nose.
He doesn’t look fine, and I reach out and place a hand on his hip. His eyes widen a little at the contact. But his shoulders relax as I move my hand up his back, massaging it gently, trying to help in any way I can. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, and I don’t know if there is anything I can do, but Iwantto help.
“Fuck, that feels nice,” he says, his breathing coming out a little softer.
I move up to his shoulders and knead the tense muscles there. He sags a little under the pressure, and I move up against him, giving him something to lean into.
“It comes on randomly,” he says after a moment. “It has nothing to do with fucking you.”
“What causes it?”
“Stress. Too much caffeine. Life.”
I move up and massage his neck, and he sighs, his head dipping down, his chin on his chest. His hair flops forward, covering his face, and I reach forward, tucking it gently behind an ear.
“You are far too nice,” he says. “Is that how they make men in South Dakota?”
I shake my head, laughing. “No. Most of the guys I know are assholes.”
He smiles at that, his eyes meeting mine once more in the mirror. He straightens and moves away from me, walking out of the bathroom and leaving me to stare after him.
“Well, I don’t really do nice,” he says gently as he tugs his clothes on. “Me and relationships don’t mix. I’m more of a lone wolf.”
I swallow, not really sure where he’s going with this.
“I wasn’t asking for a relationship, and you’re the one who came here, not me.”
He falters a moment and then smiles at me. “You’re right. This is all on me. Just don’t…just don’t be so nice to me afterward. Makes me squirm.”
I don’t get it because why wouldn’t he want someone to be nice? I was just inside of him, and he wants me to be an asshole?
“I know it’s weird, but it’s just a thing for me…”
