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We suddenly fall back onto the bed with me lying on top of him, grinding my hips into his as I edge my way to an orgasm. Nice and slow, savoring it. It’s so different from what I’m used to, but then again, it always has been with him. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew things would be different, and the second his skin touched mine, I felt something shift inside of me.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I breathe, and Chase groans, his hand clutching on to my ass. “Why are you so hot?”
“Good genetics,” he manages to get out before I attack his mouth again. I love it—kissing him—the way he tastes, feels,sounds.
We stay like this, moving between kissing frantically and lazily, for what feels like hours. Finally, I pry my sore mouth away from his, my skin abraded from the stubble on his cheeks.
Both of our cocks are still hard, aching from edging ourselves. We shift our hips slightly, trying to find some kind of relief, but neither of us is in a hurry to get off.
“Goddamn,” Chase says, and I sigh, unable to form words. He sucked them out of me with those lips. I want to keep kissing him, but I need a minute to breathe. “Never kissed a man before. Seems you’re all of my firsts.”
“Mmm,” I hum, snuggling into him. I need to move off of his big body and just give myself some space, but he smells good and feels good and fuck, I just wanna let myself stay.
For once in my goddamn life, I wanna stay.
Usually, I run from feelings because they scare the fuck out of me, but for some reason, Chase just makes me want to hibernate in his goodness. He’s safe. I know he is.
He’d never hurt me.
My eyes close, and despite my state of arousal, I feel myself starting to drift off.
I’m safe with him. So fucking safe.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Chase
Can’t believe we just kissed for hours, and now Holden is falling asleep in my arms. His breathing has evened out, and his body is a little limp. I could hold him like this for hours, could just snuggle up against him and spend the night in his arms. I’m imagining this very thing when a tapping on the window has me turning my head. I see Bob crouched in a tree just outside, my flip-flop still around his waist and something that looks like a marijuana pipe clutched in his hand.
He reaches out and taps on the window again, and my eyes narrow.
“Shh,” I say, holding my finger up to my lips. But Bob just reaches behind him and pulls my boxers out of thin air and wipes them on the window, like he’s cleaning the panes of glass with them. Probably to get a better view of me, the creep.
I watch him scrub at the glass for a moment before he reaches out and taps on the window again.
“Is that really a pipe?” I mutter softly, more to myself than anyone else because from where I’m lying it looks like he’s trying to break and enter. Or smoke, not sure, to be honest.
“Hm?” Holden says, shifting against me. The movement makes my dick ache more than it already does.
But I’m just happy that he’s here and not pushing me away. Earlier he seemed too distraught, almost broken. It made my heart pinch. I never want to upset him like that. I always want to handle him with care. He needs it, that much is clear.
“The monkey is trying to burgle while he gets high,” I explain, and Holden leans up, his cheeks red from where my stubble scraped against his skin, his lips puffy and pink from hours of kissing.
Makes me want to keep doing it, if I’m honest. I really like how he looks right now. Used. Rumpled. Needy.
“Go away, Bob!” Holden says loudly and the monkey startles slightly, the pipe hanging limply in his hand for a moment before he lifts it to his lips and inhales. A ring of smoke escapes his lips, and I watch as it travels toward the window and dissipates against the glass.
“He’s so damn weird,” I say.
Holden laughs a little. “He’s obsessed with you. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him hang out before. He usually just grabs and runs.”
My eyes widen at the bit of information, and I glance over at Bob who is eyeing me from his perch in the tree. He lifts a hand in a sad, forlorn wave, and I suddenly feel bad for him.
The monkey has a crush on me. That can’t be legal.
“That’s really strange,” I say, and Holden chuckles softly.
“I don’t blame him. There is just something about you.”
