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I peel off my shirt and drop my pants on the floor by my bed, leaving me in just hamburger boxer briefs, then look at Paul’s bed. I want to crawl into it and wrap his scent around me, but I don’t want him to think I’m getting clingy or assuming things, so I crash face down onto my bed and fall asleep.
My dreams are weird, flashes of memories that I can’t quite get a hold of. Something is pulling at my conscience, wanting me to wake up, but I don’t know what it is. Kisses? Pressure?
Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.
I gasp awake, my head jerking off the pillow as someone presses soft kisses across my shoulders.
“Hey,” Paul whispers with his lips still against my skin. “I brought you food.”
My stomach lets out a loud grumble, and Paul chuckles. I drop my head back to my pillow with a smile on my face.
“I knew you loved me. You feed me.” The words fall from my mouth so easily, like they always have, but do they mean something more serious now? Can I not say that anymore?
Paul’s body weight presses against me, his dick hard against my ass as he groans in my ear. “Do you have any idea how sexy your ass and legs are in these?”
My eyes widen at his words and finding him hard against me. I don’t know what this is or what I’m supposed to do now. I don’t know how to handle this shift. Especially since I don’t know the rules or what is expected of me.
“Yeah, that’s cool and all, but I’m hungry.” My stomach lets out another grumble, and Paul laughs. That’s something at least.
“You’re choosing food over orgasms?” He nips at my neck, and I shiver but lift up on my arms. Paul lets out a surprised sound and wraps his arms around my body on reflex.
“Right now, yes. Feed me.”
I’ve been living and breathing your touch lately. If I don’t come up for air, I’ll drown in you.
The thought has my heart lurching, but it’s true.
Paul gets off my bed and hands me the bag he brought back for me. I don’t even bother to look at it before I start shoving it in my mouth. Some kind of grilled chicken salad thing, rice, extra chicken, and a chocolate chip cookie the size of my face.
While I inhale the food, Paul lays out on his bed and starts playing NHL 21 on his Xbox. Did he clean up after he got back? I don’t smell his body wash, so I don’t think he took a full shower, but I can’t imagine he’s lying there with dry cum in his pants.
That was hot as fuck, though. Somehow, he was still in control, but I was doing the fucking. I’ve definitely never experienced that before, but I really want to do it again.
“So you really are into guys too?” I ask with my face turned toward my food.
Without missing a beat or hesitating, Paul says, “Yeah.”
I chew my food longer than needed just for something to do. “Have you done anything before? With a guy, I mean?”
“I’ve kissed a few but not much further than that.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but he’s not pulling it off.
“What stopped you before?”Because we did a lot more than kiss, and you had no hesitation.
Paul’s shoulders drop a little, and he shoves his hands under his legs, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Just didn’t feel right, I guess.”
I try really hard not to smile but fail miserably. His words have happiness fluttering in my chest and heating my face.
“But it was okay with . . . me?” I hate how vulnerable my tone is, how much I’m hoping he wants to do it again.
Paul sits up and moves to face me with his feet on the floor.
“Yeah, it was . . . it wasperfect.” The last word is a whisper, but I heard it. Hope blossoms in my chest, and all I want is for him to kiss me. Tell me that I am perfect for him.
But since I can’t always control the words that come out of my mouth, I have to make it weird.
“Listen, I could help a buddy out and you could use me to explore . . . things.” The faked nonchalance of my tone is so obvious it’s painful. I want to face-palm myself. Ugh. Why am I like this?
Paul lifts his head and meets my eyes, to which I waggle my eyebrows with a dumb-ass smile lifting my lips.
