Chapter 14 - EthanBlue
Chapter 14
Ethan
I raise my knuckles for the second, okay, seventh time and finally rap them lightly against the door, even though it’s taking everything I have to not turn and run back down the hall before it opens.
“Umm…hi…is Blue here?” I stammer like I'm some teenager asking out his first crush.
The fact that I didn’t expect Gabriel to answer wearing a bright-purple robe that’s hanging open in a way that shows off his dark, perfectly sculpted chest and very tight, silky, lime-green underwear isn’t helping my anxiety. I try my best to ignore the heat rushing to my cheeks, even though I know he’ll notice them redden. While I can objectively appreciate a gorgeous man like Gabriel, seeing one in teeny-tiny underwear when they answer the door isn’t something I’ll ever expect or get used to, even though it’s not the first time this has happened during the past few months.
“Sorry, sweet cheeks, he left for the shop about thirty minutes ago. I don’t expect him to be very long though. He was mumbling to himself when he left, and I know him well enough by now to know that he can’t usually create when he’s mumbly.”
“Oh. Is he okay? Like…is mumbly a bad thing?” Maybe I should go home and save this for another time if Blue is already having a bad day.
“He’s totally good. Everyone has mumbly moments, don’t they? Honestly, the walk to the shop and back will be enough to sort out whatever has him feeling off. It always is,” Gabriel says with a chuckle as if no part of him is concerned about Blue in the slightest. So even though it’s enough to convince me this isn’t the day to spring my feelings on him, I don’t think I have to worry that anything is actually wrong.
“Okay, then. Thanks, Gabriel. Sorry to bother you.” I turn on my heel before I’ve even finished the sentence so that I can escape back to the safety of silence and my apartment and pretend I never came over here and almost poured my soul out in the hopes that it wouldn’t be crushed like a bug.
Gabriel has other plans for me, though, and his hand is on my arm before I know what’s happening. “ You’re never a bother, honey. Come in for a while and have coffee with me.”
“Oh, that’s okay. Thank you though. I really can’t stay. I have to…”
“Nice try, babe. You don't have anything else going on if you came all the way over here just to talk to Blue about something that apparently can’t wait until you see him in the morning for coffee. If I were someone who wasn’t so aware of my own magnificence and secure in my standing as your unofficial bestie, I’d be offended that you’re acting like I’m nothing more than a poor substitute for Blue’s company. But,” he winks at me, “I know how you feel about Blue and how you feel about me.”
There’s something almost teasing in his voice that I don’t quite understand, and if I wasn’t already so worked up, I’d probably be able to grasp what he means, but because I’m not currently capable of understanding things like vocal nuance and subtext, all he’s managed to do is make me feel a bit guilty that he may not understand just how important his friendship is to me. This, of course, makes it even easier than normal for him to break through my walls, and before I realize it’s even happened, he's guided me in, shut the door, settled me on a stool at the bar, and started the kettle.
“Want to tell me what's eating at you? ”
My eyes drop to the counter, and I pick at a fingernail as he pulls out mugs and silently waits.“It's just…well…can I ask you something?”
“Course you can. But thanks for asking. Consent shouldn’t only be a bedroom thing.”
I can't help but blush and snicker at the way almost everything he says is both suggestive and serious.
“So, you probably know that I’m demi. Well, maybe you don’t. I know you and Blue are close, and I haven’t sworn him to secrecy or anything because, well, it’s not a secret, but now that I think about it, I guess it doesn’t really seem like the kind of thing Blue would mention without asking me first, so maybe you don’t know?”
Gabriel’s kind, accepting smile helps silence my rambling. “He’s mentioned it. Not in a ‘we’re always talking about Ethan’ kind of way or anything, but just offhandedly.”
“Okay. Good then. Well, the thing is, it’s not something I realized about myself until recently. Blue was actually the one who suggested it while we were all away for the weekend during the boat festival thing. I had no idea ace spectrum sexualities even existed before that.”
Gabriel sets a full mug in front of me without a word before leaning conspiratorially toward me, elbows on the counter, chin in his hands as he gives me his full attention and listens as though I’m going to offer him the secrets of the universe.
“Lately, I’ve sort of…” God, why do I feel like a fourteen-year-old boy? I’m thirty-two, for fuck’s sake. “I guess I’ve been having some…sexual…or umm, well…and romantic feelings for someone, and I’m not sure what to do about it.”
“Blue.” Gabriel pulls me out of my panicked spiral with a single word.
“What?”
“You’re in love with Blue.”
My nose crinkles. “What? How did you…I’ve never…I mean, I don’t know that I’d go as far as saying that I’m in love with him.”
He straightens up and stares at me for the briefest of moments, then throws his head back in laughter, and my heart shatters into a million pieces because my friend is laughing at me and maybe I’ve somehow managed to lose my only two friends before I even got the chance to tell Blue how I feel because the idea is apparently so ludicrous that Gabriel has no response other than to laugh at me.
“It’s not funny,” I choke out, embarrassed by how broken my voice sounds and the sudden, uncontrollable burning behind my eyes .
“Oh, sugar.” He rounds the counter and pulls me into his arms, and even through my emotional distress, I’m acutely aware that he still hasn’t managed to close his robe. “That man is wildly in love with you.”
“What?” I jerk out of his grasp, falling off the barstool as I try to convince my brain to make sense of the emotional roller coaster this conversation has become.
“Babe. Blue swore off relationships almost seven years ago, and I haven’t seen him come even close to questioning that decision. Not once. In truth, it’s killed me just a little because even though choosing not to have long-term or monogamous relationships can be the right fit for some people, it doesn’t really suit him. He only pretends that he doesn’t really want to be loved that way because he’s afraid of it, and he deserves so much more than that. He deserves to feel special. I mean, I know his history, and I understand why he’s tried to find happiness with nothing more than one-night stands, but the last time he hooked up with anyone was the weekend before he met you. He’s been a goner from the start, even if it took him ages to admit it.”
“Took him…” My jaw almost drops to the floor. “To admit it? He’s told you flat out that he has feelings for me?”
Gabriel backs up and slides onto the barstool I vacated when I fell out of his underwear hug. He picks up the mug of coffee I haven’t touched and sips loudly as he winks at me, and my entire life reorients itself in one blinding and absurd moment of realization when it hits that maybe, just maybe, I might not be destined to spend my life hoping after all.
“I have to get ready and head to work. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable, huh? He’ll be back in a bit, and you boys can chat.” Gabriel’s voice registers somewhere in the periphery of my consciousness as he downs the rest of the coffee with a grimace and kisses my cheek before prancing down the hall, leaving me too stunned to do anything other than continue to stare at the kitchen wall.
I’ve never been more thankful for the existence of e-books on phones in my life than I am while I wait anxiously on Blue and Gabriel’s couch. I don’t have any napkins to shred or stray threads on my shirt to pull at, but I do have access to an almost endless supply of words that I can use to dissociate from my panic.
“For the last time, you have GOT to stop throwing your man panties in with my laundry when you don’t want to do a load.” The front door barely cracks open before Blue’s voice startles me out of my trance. “I was at the shop for more than an hour before someone pointed out that I had this atrocious leopard-print pair stuck to the side of my pants! Who owns leopard-print man panties? I mean, I know that… Oh my god, Ethan, not you. I didn’t find a pair of your underwear stuck to my pants. I mean, I’m pretty sure they weren’t yours. Not that I know what your underwear looks like.” Blue rolls his eyes skyward and shakes his head as he drops his bag next to the counter. “What I mean is, hey, Ethan, is everything okay? You’re not over here very often.”
This moment is exactly why I’ve fallen for this man. His strong jaw and lithe, muscular frame. His perfectly tan skin and tattoos and piercings and vibrant blue hair are attractive without a doubt, but it’s the way he so effortlessly puts me at ease and makes me laugh that has set him apart from everyone else.
“I umm…I came to talk to you actually, if you have a minute.”
He’s still standing in the foyer, halfway between the kitchen and the living area where I’ve been panicking and waiting on the sofa, so I draw in a breath, bracing myself for the worst, or maybe the best, and make my way nervously toward him.
“For you? Always.”
For me , always. God, I hope with every fiber of my being he really means it that way. It’s what I want more than anything, and I plead with all of the gods in the universe as I put one foot in front of the other and will myself to find the words to tell this man that he’s all I’ve ever wanted.
I don’t know how many steps it takes to reach Blue. I don’t know how long I stand in front of him trying to gather the strength to utter the phrase that - one way or another - will change my life completely. I want you. I’m close enough that I can feel the heat from his body sinking into mine, threatening to burn me up until there’s nothing left but hope and ash. I’m close enough that I can see the flecks of gold and black in his stormy ocean eyes and the scent of smoke and apples overwhelms me and my heart is racing so fast that I can hear the blood rushing through my veins.
“Ethan, what…” The confusion in his voice jolts me from my reverie, and I cut him off before he has a chance to ask if I’m okay or to tell me I’m standing too close.
“Can I kiss you?”
Blue stumbles back, his eyes searching mine in what looks a bit like panic, but he doesn’t say no, and his heart is racing now too. I can see it pulsing along the side of his neck. His chest is rising and falling almost as quickly as mine, and even though I don’t know how I could ever have possibly gotten so lucky, whatever magic might exist in the universe must have spared me just one brief thought because I think he’s going to say yes .
He shakes his head. “Ethan, you said that you’ve never enjoyed…”
I rush to cut him off again. “Please. Can I kiss you? I know it seems sudden, but it’s not. It’s not a whim, and I’m not confused. I want you.”
I step closer, removing the small gap he placed between us when he stepped back.
“I want this.”
He leans in, closing the distance between us to a nearly imperceptible degree as his hand rises to cup my neck, the rough pads of his fingers tangling in my hair.
“Yes.” His whisper is so close that I feel his breath ghost across my lips. The word is so gentle, and his voice is filled with awe and need and too many other things for me to ever understand them all.
“Yes, you can kiss me. Jesus Christ, you can kiss me, Ethan. You can kiss me now and tomorrow and the tomorrow after that. I have thought about begging you to kiss me for days and weeks and months. Even just once, just one kiss so I can at least pretend to know what it’s like to have someone I want so much want me back. I’ve wanted you to kiss me even if it wasn’t real for you because then I could pretend for a moment. I could pretend there might be a chance that one day if I just held on to the excruciating hope that maybe I could somehow be enough for you, that one day it might happen. You can kiss me, Ethan. You can kiss me always. ”
It's not the first time Blue has stolen my breath and my words. It's not the first time he's spilled his entire soul without thought or hesitation, as if that's a perfectly normal thing to do. Hell, he did it the first day we had coffee together.
A fire more intense than any other feeling I’ve ever experienced rushes through my veins, and I don’t know if I surge forward or if he does. All I know is that his lips are on mine, hot and rough and demanding, and it is everything. His lips part on a moan, and I slip my tongue between them, needing the taste and feel and warmth of him to overwhelm me. Whimpers and moans and quiet, breathless gasps of pleasure surround us and I don’t know whether they’re coming from Blue or from me, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is the slide of his tongue against mine and the fact that the steel of his lip ring is as warm as his skin, and that knowledge is something that can never be taken from me.
His hands are cupping my face, fingers curling in my hair at the base of my neck and he’s crowding me against the counter, pressing his body to mine as if he never wants to stop touching me. His hands are trembling against my jaw as we share breath and our heartbeats race to match one another, and I want him to kiss me forever. My hands slide down his ribs, needing more. More of him and more proof that this is really happening and more and more. My fingers slip under his shirt, playing against the hot, firm skin of his back, and the muscles underneath that skin ripple as he presses closer still, pushing me back and sliding his thigh between my legs. This is everything I have ever dreamed of; he is more than I’ve ever dreamed of. He cradles my jaw, gentle and tender, as if I’m fragile - as if I’m worth caring for - while his lips and his tongue and his body possess me and take me apart one breath, one heartbeat at a time.
I tear away with a curse or a whimper or a groan or his name falling from my lips. I’m so lost in the feel of him that I can’t even tell what sound I’m trying to make.
“Take me to bed.” I gasp as we fight to catch our breath, foreheads resting together, fingers still digging tightly into skin and hair and clothing, too afraid that if we let go, this moment will disappear.
“It’s too fast, Ethan. I want you more than you know, but I don’t want to push.”
“It’s not too fast. I’ve waited my entire life for this. For you. This is what I want, if you’ll have me. I want to know what it feels like to go to bed with someone who wants me, with someone who I want. I want to know that being touched can feel the way it always has in my dreams. I want to lose myself in you until there is nothing else in the world.”
He clutches at the back of my neck and nods, our noses brushing together with the movement. “Okay, Ethan. Yes. God, yes.”
“What…what do you want? You’ll need to tell me what you want. I don’t…I don’t know what I want, what I like . It’s…it’s always been awkward or uncomfortable because I’ve forced it. It doesn’t feel forced with you, but I don’t know if I’ll be any good. I’ll try. I want it to be good for you, but you have to tell me what you want, okay?” I know that I’m rambling, but I don’t feel insecure about it. I never do with Blue.
“Oh, darlin’. Beautiful, beautiful, sweet man.” Blue kisses my nose, his lips lingering so tenderly that my heart nearly shatters into pieces so tiny they might never fit together again. My whole life I’ve dreamed of someone kissing me like this, holding me like this, speaking to me like this. Like I’m not sad or broken or pathetic. Like I was worth waiting for and caring for. Like I matter.
“I want to make you feel good. I want to show you what you’ve been missing. I want you to know what it can be like. What it should be like. I want to learn every inch and curve and line of you. I want to count the freckles that I know must spread across your shoulders to match the handful that live on your nose. I want to take you apart and put you back together again and again and again. I don’t care if that means you’re inside me, or I’m inside you or if we just lie together and kiss until we can’t breathe or feel anything else. I just want you.”
“Yes. Jesus, yes. All of that. Any of it. Please.”
Blue smiles at me as his arms tighten around my ribs, and god, it is so bright and so blinding that I’m sure that the residual imprint of that smile will be burned into my retinas for the rest of my days.
We stumble down the hall pressed tightly together, unable to pull ourselves apart even for the few moments it would take to make it to his bedroom safely. It’s a chaotic tangle of mouths and limbs and clothing and laughter as we kiss and strip and touch while we walk. Our shirts are somewhere on the hallway floor, and when we hit the side of his bed, I finally reach out to trace the lines of the tattoos that cover his chest the way I’ve wanted to so many times in the past. It feels reverent and surreal to touch him like this, and the mood shifts around us in an instant. We’re no longer fevered and desperate like we were in the hall. We’re tender and gentle and awed as we come together. His hands are cupping my face again and his thumb traces my lower lip and I can feel my breath move across it when I exhale. His lips are on mine once more, and his body presses close, skin against skin, as my fingers play across his taut belly. His belly button is pierced, and the metal catches on my pinkie as my hand slides lower to fumble with the buttons of his jeans. He groans into my mouth as his hands roam down my ribs on their way to help, and then we’re awkwardly bending and shuffling, and our lips smile, still pressed together as we work our pants to the floor. Then he’s naked in front of me, and it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed it could be. His body is lithe and strong and agile against mine as he holds me close while my hands move across his skin. He gasps on an inhale when my fingertips brush across a nipple, and a whimpering moan follows as my palm presses against his belly to slide lower once more.
I cup his hard cock in my palm, my fingers trembling as I wrap them around his base. Touching another man has never felt like this. Skin has never felt this hot and sensual and alive. Breath has never sounded so ragged. I’ve never wanted to spend hours cataloging every shudder and moan and whimper so that I can replay them over and over in my mind. I tighten my hand, squeezing while I draw my fist up, and his long, chest-deep groan vibrates across my skin as his body curls further around mine. He is so unbelievably hard against my palm as I stroke upward until I reach…metal.
Metal.
I step back and look down, almost in panic, wondering what in the world could possibly be…
Three barbells thread their way through silken skin just under his swollen head. This man. Of course this man has a Jacob's ladder. A laugh bubbles out of me as I trace the bars with my fingertips, and when I search out the ocean-blue eyes I love so much, they're smiling at me. Blue winks. And the warmth that skitters through my chest is the same as the first time he winked at me across the coffee shop, and yet it’s so, so very different.
“Do they hurt?” My fingertips trace along the bars slowly, and I want to know what he feels when I touch them. I want to know everything he feels. I want to make him feel good, the way no one has ever made me feel before.
His smile widens, tender and oh-so blinding, even in the dim bedroom light.
“They feel good.”
I pinch the skin surrounding the top bar lightly, and his breath rushes out in a harsh gasp.
“For you or your partner?”
“Both.”
I drop to my knees in an instant. His lip ring is warm when he kisses me, almost hotter than his skin somehow, and I want to know if these will be the same. I’m sure these will be the same, but I want to know for a fact. I want to know his taste and the feel of flesh and metal and the weight of him resting on my tongue. I want to know which of my touches will make him tremble and clutch at my shoulders until his head falls back and he’s nothing more than a puddle of pleasure and satisfaction. I want to know everything about him. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before. I’ve never needed to touch them and taste them the way I need blood in my veins and air in my lungs.
The blaze that sparked through my belly when I’d stepped close and our lips first came together is twisting and writhing across my skin as it grows into riotous flames of want and need and more and please and god yes. I lean in and flick my tongue along the metal that pierces through his skin. It’s hot and hard. His breath catches, and his hand is on the back of my head, fingers twisting through my hair. I’ve done this before, but it’s never been something I’ve wanted, not really. Not like this. I want it now. I want it more than I can remember ever wanting anything. My hands clutch at his thighs as I rock forward, stretching my lips wide and swallowing him as deep as I can. He smells like salt and smoke and hints of apple soap, and I can feel his stomach tense and his legs shake each time I suck or flick my tongue along the metal that adorns his tender skin. My eyes flick up to his, and he’s staring down at me, his pupils wide and his lips parted. He looks dazed and wild and beautiful, and I could watch him like this for the rest of forever.
It feels like only moments, only fractions of seconds, before he’s pulling on my shoulders and dragging my body up his. He’s groping and desperate and crushing his body against mine, and he’s so solid and real that all I can do is cling to him in wonder, and god, how I have dreamed of this, dreamed of him.
“Please. God, please. Yes.” Rambled words of hope and wonder fall from my lips, and then he’s pressing me onto the bed, lowering himself into my arms until we’re completely together once more, and there is only the warmth of his skin and the scratch of his stubble against my neck as I arch against him.
He moves over me, broad stretches of tan and glimpses of harsh black in the dim light. He’s all sharp lines and soft fades as he explores my skin like he’s never wanted anything else in the world as much as he wants these moments. I’m clutching the sheets so tightly my fingers are numb, and I know my knuckles have whitened as he nips his teeth along my collarbone and trails his tongue down the center of my chest. His hands are everywhere all at once, fingers digging into my hips and caressing tenderly along my ribs and pinching my nipple hard enough that my back arches off the bed, and my whimpers fade to soundless keening as my breath abandons me completely.
He teases - light touches and the brief, sharp prick of teeth. The tickle of blue hair against my belly and marks sucked into my skin with slow, intense precision until the sensation almost shifts from pleasure to pain. My fingers tangle in his hair and claw at his shoulders as he sucks and licks and learns his way across my stomach and down my inner thighs. He’s kneeling between them now, his hands resting on my knees, pressing them further apart. I force my head up, and our eyes meet, and it feels like lightning and fire and coming home all at once.
His eyes hold mine as he leans down to lick a long, slow stripe along the underside of my cock, and being touched has never, ever felt like this before. He takes his time, sucking a line of kisses along the path his tongue just blazed before burying his face into my skin and inhaling me as if I’m the oxygen he needs to survive. His rough palms press against my thighs, spreading me further while he flicks his tongue into my slit and circles it around my head and uses it to lift me from my belly.
He groans as he takes me into his mouth, sinking down and down until I’m completely engulfed in wet and heat and pressure, and I’m panting and writhing and clutching at the sheets so hard that my fingers are cramping. I’m not going to last, and I want this to go on forever. I gasp, trying to cry out his name but unable to find words while he’s trying to pull my very soul from my body, and I’ve never, never known another man’s touch could feel this way.
“Inside me…I want to feel you inside me.” I can barely form words, but these feel important enough to fight for. I want more of him. I want to be his. Completely and unquestioningly his.
He sucks harder for a moment, and a ragged cry escapes my throat at the intensity of it all, and by the time he slowly releases me back onto my belly, I’m breathless and whimpering and fighting not to fall apart before he touches me again.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He slides up, and his body is resting against mine once more, his lips wandering across my jaw, his breath hot on my neck, his cock hard and heavy against mine between our bellies .
“Yes. Please, yes.” I don’t even recognize my voice. It’s deep and broken and vibrating with need and emotion.
“I don’t have protection here. I never bring anyone home, and it’s been months since I’ve been with anyone anywhere else. Not since I met you. I’ve tested clean since then, but I don’t want to pressure you. It can wait for another time.”
The honesty and care in his voice and words have me scrambling to cup his face in my hands and press my lips to his again and again in soft, tender kisses that say thank you for caring about me, thank you for making me feel important and wanted and like I’m worth more than just a few moments of pleasure.
“I haven’t been with anyone for five years. I’m clean. I want you.” Our lips brush as I mumble the words against his skin. “Please.”
I’m ready to beg, ready to plead and promise and argue. I’m ready to do anything to feel him inside of me.
He nods. It’s a simple thing, a slow, uncomplicated movement, but it’s not simple at all. It’s everything. It’s trust and acknowledgment. It’s us putting our faith in one another and believing that we’ll be cared for, body and soul.
He shifts away, leaning across me to reach into his nightstand, and I press a kiss to his belly as it hovers over my face for a moment, and then his body is covering me again, slick fingers reaching down between us. He circles and teases for only a moment before he sinks inside of me, slow and deep. His fingers push and slide and twist, and I groan and keen and squirm under his care. How is it possible for his touch to feel this good? He feels like ice and fire, and I need. I need less and more and for this to never ever stop. I arch under him, our chests pressing together as he whispers tender words into the bend of my neck and his fingers slowly take me apart.
His body shifts against mine, and the universe blinks into darkness, and then there is nothing but heat and pressure and Blue’s body surrounding me, inside of me. His hips are pressed tightly to mine, and my thighs are clamped to his sides, and I can’t think or breathe or remember what it was like to not have him in my arms.
His fingers interlace with mine beside my head and we’re clinging together so tightly that we may simply merge into one being before this is over. His forehead is resting against my shoulder, his cheek pressed into my neck, and I can feel the way his chest expands against my chest, his breaths matching mine. My other hand moves through his hair, holding him to me, and his breath stutters and catches in his throat until only gasps and curses escape to bury themselves into my skin. He marks me with them, and I want those marks for all of eternity. I want them to look like his tattoos, dark and contrasting against my paleness so that I can see them forever. So that the world can look at me and see that he’s been here. See that I belong only to him .
He shifts his hips back and thrusts forward. He’s sliding inside of me, and it’s slick and hot and I’m stretched around him and so, so full. I can feel his piercings catch and tug lightly each time he draws back, and I rock my hips to meet his. Chasing the feel of him. He smells like apple and sweat, and I turn my head to bury my face in his hair. His moans have shifted to desperate grunts and gasps, and heat is growing inside of me and crawling along my spine, and the pleasure is building so quickly, and I’m pressed tight and sticky between our bellies as he thrusts into me hard and fast. We meet one another time and time again, our hips rising and falling together as he drives into me with long, deep strokes, and I can’t hold on.
“Blue…”
His name escapes in a whisper like a curse or a prayer, and I never want to leave this moment, never want to stop touching him, never want him to stop touching me. When he's not around, I want to relive the memories again and again until I’m lost in them and back in this moment where there is only us. He’s so close to me, but still I'm vibrating with the need to touch him, to taste and feel and float toward the edge of the unknown with him.
I drag my fingers from his hair to desperately clutch at his shoulders and back and ribs, and I just need something to hold onto because I’m falling too fast and there is nothing but pleasure and skin and Blue, and still I need more. I need deeper and harder and faster, and I need…
His teeth sink into my neck, and his body seizes around me as he shudders and trembles. I can feel the heat of him spilling inside of me, and he’s still rocking and pressing deeper, his hips grinding against me. I cry out his name once more as I shatter and cling to him, and he is the only thing that has ever mattered.
I fall back to earth in pieces, and there are only glimpses of moments. The brush of his lips across my shoulder. The quick, unexpected sting as his body slips out of mine. The sound of his breath and the whisper of my name.
We’re still clinging to one another as he lies with his head on my shoulder and his thigh across my hips. Our fingers are still laced together, only now they’re resting on my chest. We’re quiet and content to lie together this way, tangled and sticky in Blue’s small, dark bedroom. This moment, too, is nothing like I’d ever imagined. I’m not broken or lost or frustrated or hurt. I’m not panicking and wondering how I let myself wind up in bed with someone only to desperately want to sneak away the moment they fall asleep. Being with Blue is different and new and perfect. All the years I’ve spent searching and clinging to slowly fading hope have fallen away, and this is what I have been looking for all of my life .
His breath skims across my skin as his chest rises and falls against mine. He shifts, rising to press a kiss over my heart before settling an elbow on the mattress and his head resting in his hand. His stormy grey eyes are filled with pleasure and happiness and just a bit of concern as he searches my gaze.
“Was that okay?”
I bring our hands up to press kisses against the backs of his knuckles one at a time.
“It was perfect.”
His concern melts away in an instant, and there is only satisfaction and joy in his smile when he leans in to press his forehead to mine and brush our noses together and steal slow, gentle kisses.