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I held his arse, keeping him buried in my throat until his body stopped twitching, and when I let him out, I pulled up his shorts, led him to the bed, and pushed him back onto it.
He landed with a gruff laugh. “Fuck yes,” he said. He had his eyes closed and his lips curled in a serene smile. “Christ, you have skills. Kissing. Sucking dick. God. Did you study that?”
I snorted out a laugh and fixed my shorts. Then, not entirely sure what to do next, I grabbed my iPad. He raised his head off the bed. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere.” I came back to the bed and lay down beside him. “I’m gonna watch this.”
I rewound the video and we lay there, both still shirtless, both now very sated, and we watched a replay of the storm. We could see the dark clouds rolling in, the wall of water as it came toward the bunker. I watched the sheet lightning light up the clouds like it was full of fireflies, mesmerised by how beautiful it could be.
Sparks of intra-cloud lightning shot across the clouds like spidery fingers, positive seeking out the closest source of negative charge. After a few minutes of raging winds, the auto-station fell over at the end of the clearing.
“Oh, here goes the crazy man,” Tully said, “running out into a lightning storm to hold a metal rod.”
Tully’s voice in the video yelled at me too, and it was oddly comforting. That he should care enough to be concerned.
Just as I’d righted the anemometer, a bolt of lightning cracked into the trees behind me, and I hit pause on the screen.
“Can you see why I was pissed?” Tully said. He rolled onto his side, hooking his foot over mine, locking me in some wrestling leg-manoeuvre. He pointed to the screen. “Look at how close that is. Look!”
“I can see,” I said.
“You didn’t even flinch or duck,” he said.
But I wasn’t looking at how close the strike was. I was looking at the pure energy, the brilliance of light. The raw power.
“It’s perfect.”
Tully rolled onto his back, letting my leg go with an exasperated sigh. “Yes, it’s amazing. But can you appreciate that you almost died? And just wait till you get to the part where you slide in under the wall like an action movie hero.” He sighed again. “I’m beginning to think you have the whole Clark Kent vibe going on.”
I looked at him. “Clark Kent?”
“Yeah, sexy nerd front, kickass superhero when no one’s looking.”
I scoffed.
“He also risked his life unnecessarily all the time, too. Stupidly put himself in harm’s way, as if his book-smarts mean diddley freakin’ squat in the real world.” Then he shrugged. “But totally gets his freak on in the bedroom. Can we talk about where you learned to kiss like that? And suck dick? Because that’s some Kryptonite bullshit right there. Jesus.”
I stared at him, not entirely sure if he was being serious. “No one taught me.”
He grinned. So he was joking... “So you learned by yourself.”
“By myself?” I squinted at him. “How could I possibly kiss myself? And I certainly can’t suck my... self.”
Now he laughed. “Have you tried?”
“No!” I barked, the silence that followed was loud. Then, because I had to ask... “My god, have you?”
“I’m not flexible enough to even try. But I’ve seen it in porn. It’s kinda weird. Now, I love sucking dick, but my own? I think that’d be too weird, even for me.”
I took a deep breath. “How is this even a conversation we’re having?”
He rolled onto his side again, facing me with that unlawful smirk. He hooked his foot over mine again. “Because of the Clark Kent thing,” he said casually. “And now that we’ve crossed the line once, I’d like to discuss the possibility of crossing it many times. So if there are any preferences or hard limits you’d like to discuss...”
It was difficult to think clearly when he was playing footsies and lying so close, and looking at me like that. With his smiling eyes and his perfect face.
“I’m here to work,” I said, trying to relinquish some of the control he had over me. “And—”
“And work we will,” he said, taking my iPad. “Later.”
