Suddenly You (Our Exception Book 2)

Chapter 11

“Brixton, honestly! No more boogers,” I shout, sighing when I see him try to wipe his hand on another kid in class. This guy needs to grow up quickly.

He looks at me and grins stupidly before sticking his finger in the pocket of his shorts.

Probably has a booger pocket. Probably keeps them as prizes.

I shake my head as I turn my gaze back to the rest of the class.

These fuckers, I think, or maybe it’s just me being grumpy.

When my alarm went off this morning, Coop was out making me breakfast, and as nice as it was to have a hot breakfast before work, I’d have rather woken up next to him.

And it didn’t help that he wouldn’t make eye contact with me either. Maybe he didn’t like what we did together. Maybe he’s regretting it.

The thought has put me in a foul mood.

Because I not only wanted to wake up in his arms, but I wanted to wake up with his mouth drifting toward my dick.

Speaking of, it twitches in my pants, and I set my clipboard over my crotch.

Boogers. Think of Brixton’s booger pocket.

It works. My dick goes down in a flash, and I grumble and pace, yelling at the students and doing my best to keep them under control. It only works part of the time. The rest of class is spent with them running around like wild animals.

My mood isn’t at all helped by the fact I had to place a bandage over the hickey Coop gave me. The kids asked about it too, their little hawk eyes missing nothing. I’ve told them all it’s a cancerous growth. Not that they believed me.

I’m sure they all know what’s under the damn thing.

When class is finally over and the students are in the locker rooms changing, I have a moment’s peace. My fingers make their way up to the bandage and a small wobbly smile threatens to pull my lips up. As much as this thing has been a pain, I like that he marked me.

The door to the gym opens suddenly and my arm flops to my side.

“Oh, fuck me,” I murmur as Brixton makes his way toward me. I sigh as he comes to a stop in front of me, shifting on his feet nervously. If I stand still will he still be able to see me? I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot.

“Uh, Mr. Morris,” he says and runs a hand across the back of his neck.

“Yes, Booger Brixton,” I say, finally blinking. Seems me standing still like a statue didn’t work.

The name makes him giggle. “Booger Brixton. That’s a good one.”

I narrow my eyes at him. That wasn’t supposed to be funny. It was meant to shame him, but it didn’t seem to work.

“How can I help you?”

Brixton shifts on his feet again and then blurts, “Uh, I have a question.”

I arch an eyebrow and he rubs his hands together. “The other day you said I could have a girlfriend or a boyfriend.”

I stare at him. I honestly don’t remember saying that. “What about it?”

“Uh, like, is that okay? To like both?”

My body heats up and it’s my turn to shift on my feet. I was not trained for this. This was not my calling. I just want to yell at kids while they run around a gym.

“Um, yeah. Yeah it is.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his eyebrows rising and his lips tilting up into a smile. “Fuck. Good. Okay, cool. Are you…you know?”

I rub at my chest and feel the ring pressed against my skin. My mind flashes to Coop, my husband, who is at home, waiting for me.

“None of your business,” I reply and when his shoulders sag, I sigh. “But yeah. There’s a guy…”

Brixton peers up at me and grins widely. “Cool. Yeah, that’s cool. Thanks. Mr. Morris.”

I nod, but before he lopes off, I stop him. “Brixton. Seriously though. No more boogers. No one likes them. Boys or girls, neither wanna see that.”

He nods and sends me a salute before disappearing entirely.

Fuck me. I’m not cut out for this. I need a drink.

When I arrive home, Coop is at the stove, an apron over his soft clothes, earphones in his ears. The smell wafting toward me makes my stomach grumble with hunger, and I lean against the wall, watching as he moves. He’s humming along with the music, his little ass shaking slightly.

Fuck, he’s cute.

And he sucked my dick last night.

The thought makes me horny and grumpy at the same time.

Right, he sucked it, but then avoided me.

I feel my lips pull down into a frown at the thought just as Coop startles slightly. He sets his spoon down, pulling an earbud from his ear and looking over at me.

“Hey, baby,” he says softly, and my heart flutters in my chest at that name.

I’ve never been baby. Never particularly liked cutesy names, but I sure do like them from Coop.

Right now, I just want to go and press against him, let my hands slip across his stomach as I pull him against me. But I don’t. I don’t fucking move. I just stand there, waiting to see what he will do, working my bottom lip between my teeth, my hands clenched in the pockets of my sweatpants.

Coop’s gaze shutters, and he turns his gaze back to the stove as he continues stirring whatever he’s cooking.

He doesn’t even make a move to hug me.

Nothing.

Fuck, did the blow job ruin things?

I think it ruined things.

“How was work?” he finally asks, and I sigh, running a hand over my tired face. I just want to go to sleep and end the day. I don’t want to deal with this.

“Fine.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his eyes still settled on the food before him.

Makes my stomach clench uneasily. Why isn’t he talking more, laying into me, anything? Since when does Coop hold anything in?

It must be really bad then.

Fuck.

“Yeah,” I reply and then move away from him and settle at the island, fiddling with my phone, trying to distract myself. This is better than mooning over him.

I will not moon.

A moment later, a bowl of pasta is set in front of me, and I glance down at it.

“Garlic prawn pasta,” he explains, and I peer over at him, watching as he unties the apron and sets it on the counter before settling down next to me.

Too far away.

Shit. I want a hug. Real bad.

Coop grabs his fork and pokes at the food before asking, “So, what happened at work? Tell me something exciting.”

I clear my throat, trying like hell not to get all blubbery. It’s just been a long day. I’m just fucking tired. That’s all I want to say, but instead I say, “Well, uh, the booger kid, Brixton came up to me after class and asked if it was okay that he liked guys and girls.”

Coop glances over at me, his fork clattering against the side of the bowl.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. And I told him it was fine. Of course.”

Coop’s face brightens and he reaches out, clasping my hand gently.

“Good job, Matthew. You did so good. Teenage years are bad enough. Being confused about your sexuality makes it even worse.”

I nod as he pulls his hand away, settling it next to him. I feel cold, empty, almost distraught at the thought of him being so distant.

Why doesn’t he want to touch me?

What’s wrong with me?

“I wish I could have given him more advice,” I admit. “But I had none. I don’t even know what you’d call that? Being bi?”

“Yeah. Bi.”

I sit with that moment and stare into my food. “You think that’s what I am?”

Coop pauses, turning to gaze at me, his eyes soft and warm, so different from his body language at the moment. “I don’t know, Matthew. That’s something only you can decide. There’s a whole list of options. You don’t need to come to terms with it now. There’s no rush.”

I peer over at him and swallow, forcing myself to finally eat. I take a few bites and it’s delicious, but I don’t really taste it. Not when I feel like my chest is caving in.

“What’s wrong?” Coop asks, and I force more food into my mouth.

Oh, so now he wants to talk. Pfft. I’m not ready to talk about it.

I mean, I do want to, but I honestly just want him to hold me.

He sighs, long and loud.

“Fuck this. Come here,” he mutters, scooting his chair back and standing up. He holds his hand out to me, and without hesitation, I link mine with his. My shoulders slump in relief and my heart steadies, a slow and steady thumping in my chest.

Fuck. It feels good to be touched.

“Let me show you what I had delivered today,” he tells me, dragging me toward the doors leading to the balcony. When we step outside, I see a large lounger, big enough to fit two people.

I glance at him and he smiles softly, leading me toward it. On the end is a blanket, soft and warm and he settles me down onto the thick cushions.

“You sit right here,” he commands as he pulls the blanket up and tucks me in under its soft warmth before wandering back inside.

I just sit, listening to the ocean crash against the beach while I wait for him. A moment later, Coop returns, our bowls of pasta in his hands.

He hands one to me before scooting in next to me, his body pressed up against mine.

“Better?” he asks, and I nod. It is better.

I feel loads better.

“Good. Now eat.”

A content sigh escapes my traitorous lips. He knows. He knows what I need and he doesn’t make fun of me. Instead, he gives me what I crave.

“And when you’re done, we can talk about what happened last night. I wanted to do it this morning, but you seemed very grumpy, and I didn’t want you to go to work like that.”

I grumble around a prawn. Well, that backfired because I was a mess all day. Of course I was grumpy. He left me all alone and cold in bed. By the time I finally rolled out of bed and sat down for breakfast, I didn’t feel like talking.

I just wanted to mope.

“Fine,” I say, and he leans into me further.

“Great. I can’t wait.”

I can. I can wait a thousand years to have this conversation. But when my bowl is scraped clean and Coop is settled behind me, his hands on my chest, I’m forced to endure it.

I’ll endure anything if he keeps touching me like this.

“Did you feel pressured last night? Did we go too far? Was it something you regret?” he finally asks.

I freeze and peer back at him, watching as his teeth work his bottom lip into a frenzy. He’s nervous, worried.

Fuck. My heart warms at his concern for me. I don’t know the last time someone was worried for me. Not even my mom.

“No. I liked it. A lot.”

Coop lets out a breath and his body suddenly relaxes behind me.

“Yeah? Really?”

“Yeah. It was… Fuck, it was mind-blowing.”

Coop hums happily, his cock stiffening against my back. I wiggle against it, leaning my head against his shoulder and just relishing the feel of his hands on me. They drift up and down my chest lazily. Like he has all the time in the world.

“Would you like me to do it again?” he asks a moment later and my cock, which has been half-hard since he sat down next to me with dinner, plumps to full mast.

“Do you want to?”

“Of course I do. You taste so divine.”

I flush from head to toe at those words, my ears burning. “Okay, we can, if you want to.”

“Oh, I want to. I had this delivered just for that. Well, for snuggling too obviously, but also so I can sit between your legs with your cock in my mouth.”

My dick jumps as he wiggles out from behind me and then settles between my legs. His fingers trace lines up my thighs, and when they curl around the waistband of my sweatpants, he tugs the fabric down. My hips lift, assisting him in removing the clothes from my body. And when they’re fully off, I shiver in the cool evening air.

“You cold, Matthew?” Coop asks when he runs his hands up my stomach, pushing my sweatshirt up, exposing the skin of my abdomen. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he coos and then tugs the sweater off over my head, leaving me completely nude on the lounger. He hops up, his cock bobbing beneath his silk pants as he turns the heater on, blasting warmth toward me before he once again settles between my legs.

My cock is so hard and eager that when he leans down and rubs his nose against it, I nearly launch off the cushions. Fuck, that feels so good.

I want to wake up with his head in my lap and fall asleep with it there too.

“Do me a favor,” Coop says as he kisses his way up my cock. “Take that ring off the chain and put it on your finger. When you’re home, I want you to wear it.”

I don’t even question it. Just do as he says, my trembling fingers pulling the ring from my chest and slipping it onto my finger. Coop looks at it and then links our hands together, both metal bands winking at us in the dim light.

“Much better,” he says and then brazenly licks up my cock. I gasp at the sensation of it, of his warm, wet mouth against my dick. “So, so good. But Matthew. I want to hear you too. Don’t be shy. Tell me how I’m making you feel.”

“I can’t,” I whisper, and his eyes flash to mine.

“You can and you will.”

His lips seal around my head and he sucks, making my eyes nearly cross. I try to stifle a groan, but when his hand grabs on to my balls and rolls them in his palm, I let the sounds slip out. A deep, low moan echoes across the tile balcony and slips away into the crash of the waves.

“Mm,” he hums as he takes me further into his mouth. The warm, wet heat of him makes me pant, makes my fingers curl into my palms. I don’t even feel the cool air anymore. All I can feel is him.

He’s perfect.

The way he holds me in his mouth and swallows, the way his fingers are still linked with mine. The way he places the perfect pressure on my dick, like he’s already memorized everything I like.

Everything I need.

My free hand threads through the strands of his hair, and I hold him gently, not pushing, not thrusting, but just lingering, petting, showing him with my touch how good this is for me.

And it is. It’s so damn good. A slow, deep throat-fucking until I’m coming into his mouth minutes later. I let him suck me dry before I slump back, my chest heaving, his lips still on me, his fingers still locked with mine.

“Good?” he asks, his lips trailing small kisses up my thigh, stomach, and chest. It leaves a burning map to my heart, where that bruised organ beats frantically.

I wait for the shame of being with another man like this to hit me, but it doesn’t come. All I feel is content, and all I want is to feel him against me. Without another word, I pull him onto me, feeling his hard cock pressed against my abdomen.

“You need to come too,” I croak, and he shakes his head, settling against me, his face tucked into my neck. He’s relaxed, pliant. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt Coop this relaxed.

“I can do that anytime. Just let me hold you a while. I missed you today.”

I feel my chest constrict, a dull, pinching pain as he scoots to my side and wraps his body around me. I’m still naked but I don’t even care. The warmth from the heater, from his body, is enough to keep me comfortable. I could lie here for ages and not feel the sting of reality.

“I have dessert in the fridge, if you want it. Ordered it from a special Cuban bakery today,” he tells me as he pulls the blanket up over us and slides his hands over my bare chest.

“Mm. Maybe in a little bit.”

Coop hums against me, and I turn toward him. His lips are swollen pink, his hair askew from where I gripped him gently.

Fuck, he’s so pretty. Much different from what I’m used to, but still, utterly and perfectly captivating.

“What?” he asks, his hand sliding across my side and gripping my ass. “Do I have cum on my lips?”

I manage a small smile, feeling suddenly nervous.

“No. That’s not it. You’re just…you’re real pretty, Coop.”

His cheeks flush, and his eyes lower shyly. “You think so?”

“Mhm.”

He peers up at me with twinkling eyes, and I glance at his shining lips and my breath stutters out of me.

I pull him closer, tucking my face into his neck and letting my lips drag across his skin.

He trembles at my touch, so I don’t stop. Just keep going, keep tasting.

What would it be like to kiss him? To press my lips against his? To push my tongue into his mouth? To taste him?

The thought makes me lightheaded, and I groan softly.

I suddenly want him bare, laid out next to me, so I can feel him too. My hands move under his shirt, sliding against his stomach and pulling the fabric up until it’s bunched under his neck. He leans up and I pull it off, tossing it onto the ground as my lips land on his shoulder. Kissing him there. Somewhere new.

Coop trembles again as I drag my mouth across his chest, my hands slipping down to his silky pants. My thumbs hook into the waistband, and I tug them down, inch by inch until I can’t push them any lower. He wiggles them off, and his body is finally fully nude against my own.

“Better,” I say, and Coop grips me tightly.

“Matthew,” he whispers, his hard cock leaking against my abdomen. “What are you doing to me?”

I don’t answer him because I don’t know. I should be asking him the same thing. I lean into him further, feeling the wet tip and hot length pushing into my stomach.

I shouldn’t touch it. I should just let it be, but he needs me.

Only me.

My hand curves across his hip and slides between our bodies, my fingertip brushing against the tip.

Coop gasps, his eyes wide. “You don’t need to.”

It’s a whisper, a plea.

“But I want to,” I say softly and then wrap my fist around him, causing him to cry out.

“Oh fuck,” he moans as I stroke him. “Oh fuck.”

He’s trembling, shaking in my arms, his fingers digging into my back as I work his cock.

Goddamn, this is hot. Why is this so hot? It’s just a hand job, but the way he’s responding to me makes it so much better.

He wants me.

My own dick twitches at the sight he makes. His stomach contracts against my fist as it works up and down his length, his forehead pressed to mine, his puffs of desperation hitting my lips.

I should kiss him.

I should kiss the fuck out of him.

But I don’t. I can’t.

“Harder,” he gasps. “Harder, Matthew.”

I tighten my hold on him, moving my hand faster. Watching him is like taking my first taste of alcohol, my first hit of drugs. Heady, mind-blowing. It makes my entire world spin and tilt. I don’t know which way is up, and I don’t fucking care either.

Let me drown in him.

“God yes,” he moans and a second later, Coop explodes across my hand, some of the warm spend hitting my stomach.

His head drops back against the lounger, as I pulse my fist around his softening cock.

He grunts at the sensation and then finally pulls out of my grip, his eyes closed, his chest heaving.

I stare down at my messy hand, ropes of white cum sitting against my knuckles. Before he can open his eyes, I bring my fist to my mouth and taste. A flick of my tongue, a bitter taste hitting my lips.

Fuck. That’s not half bad.

Not bad at all.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Matthew,” Coop says, his voice strained, his eyes still closed.

Same, I think as I reach over for my shirt and wipe my hand clean. Then I slide the fabric across his groin, mopping up the mess he made before cuddling back into his side, pressing my face into his shoulder and throwing my leg over his.

What a sight we must make.

Two nude men, cuddling out on a balcony, under the stars.

But no one can see us, and honestly, if they could, I wouldn’t give a fuck.

If Coop can make me feel this good, who the fuck are they to tell me it’s bad?