Chapter 11 Richard #2
“It’s good enough for me.” He presses several short, tender kisses to my lips, tickling his fingers over my knee as he does so. “So, uh, you’ll probably need distracting for a while longer. Right?”
I capture his lips for a longer kiss. “If you’re happy to be my distraction, yes, I think I will.”
He hums against my mouth. “Very happy.” He rests his ear over my heart and twirls his finger around my nipple.
I run my fingers down his spine, tracing a long, lazy line before tracing back up again.
I don’t understand why he’s happy with our arrangement.
I’m pretty sure he could snap his fingers and have his pick of men, yet he’s choosing to spend time with me.
To have sex with me. Which is all this is.
Sex. Sometimes, when we’re cuddling afterwards, it’s hard to keep that straight in my head, because moments like this feel intimate and real.
Is he sleeping with other guys? I haven’t asked.
It’s not my business. We’re not dating. We’re fucking.
I have no claim to him. No right to expect him to be exclusive to me.
We’re using protection, which is all that matters.
I could go out and sleep with other people if I wanted to, not that I do.
This naughty, secret affair with Angus is enough.
But how long can it last, and should I even want it to?
“How are you feeling, now that your divorce is proceeding to the next stage?” Angus asks.
“Relieved, but also sad. We were together for ten years.”
“Do you still love her?”
I suck in a breath. “A little. I wish I didn’t. I wish I’d been able to turn off my feelings for her like a switch. Maybe then all this wouldn’t hurt so much.” Is it fair of me to play the victim when I’m lying in someone else’s arms?
“She hurt you.”
“Yes.” And I probably hurt her by telling her I’d slept with someone so quickly.
She had to know. I haven’t told her I’ve continued to hook up with some guy.
My life is no longer any of her business.
“I’m hoping that, once the divorce is finalised, I’ll be able to put it all behind me and get on with my life. ”
“You’re not doing that now?”
“I am. Sort of. But I can’t have a complete break while things are still messy.”
“That makes sense.”
“Enough about me. How’s your course going?”
“Eh, fine. I’ve been getting good grades in all my assignments, and I’ve started studying for my finals. It’s just hard, juggling study and working on the farm.”
“I must be making things harder for you.”
“Nope. You’re my stress relief.” He squeezes my cock. “Better than a stress ball.”
“Tell me to fuck off if you need to study.”
He pushes up onto his elbow, squeezes my jaw, and stares into my eyes. “I’ll never tell you to fuck off, only to fuck me. You’re keeping me relaxed.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I smile.
“What? Did you think this was a one-sided deal? Did you think you were the only one benefiting from our arrangement? I get ah-mazing sex and stress relief.”
I cock my brow. “Amazing sex?”
“Uh-huh. I don’t think I’m ever going to want to sleep with a guy my own age again. You’re so much more—experienced.”
“I doubt that. I’d only had sex with one person for the last ten years before you.”
“Well, either your ex-wife had very high standards, or you had a lot of practice before you met her. Either way, you make me feel good.”
My head has probably swollen to twice its natural size.
Angus is as good at stroking my ego as he is at stroking my cock.
“You’re amazing,” I say, in an attempt to give something back to him.
“And stunning.” I graze my hand over his abs.
I still can’t get over how pronounced and solid every single one of his muscles is.
Oh, to be a fly on the wall when he’s working out.
He giggles. “You just want to get in my pants again, Professor Jones.”
I rub my hand over his arse. “You’re not wearing any pants.”
“Eh, that’ll make it easier then, won’t it?”
I rise to kiss him and then coax him to lie down, so I’m leaning over him. “Does that mean you want me to pound your arse again tonight?”
“Hmm, I think I do, Professor. I need another practical lesson from you on how it’s done.”
“I don’t think you need lessons from anyone.” We kiss between every statement we make, our lips always brushing, even when we speak.
“Oh, I do. I need lots and lots and lots of lessons from you.”
I kiss his forehead and then settle beside him once more. “You’re the first guy I’ve been with in ten years.”
“I know.”
“What I mean is—there are other things I’d like to do, but it’s been so long.”
“Like?”
“Suck your cock.”
He hums. “I’d like that, but you don’t need to. You pleasure me in other ways.”
“Have you fuck me?”
He gasps. “I wasn’t sure you were into it that way.”
“I was. Ten years ago.”
“I’d gladly fuck you, Professor, but I think you’d need to build up to it slowly. After ten years, you might as well be an anal virgin.”
I sigh. “Probably.”
He rolls onto his side and strokes my jaw. “Maybe you should save that.”
I raise my eyebrows. “My arse?”
He chuckles. “Yes.”
I swallow. “What for?”
“For someone you’re serious with. Someone you want to be with for more than casual sex.”
My chest tightens.
“Is that what you did?”
He snorts. “Fuck no. I rushed into anal as soon as I was legal, which was both good and bad.”
I run my fingers through his hair. “Tell me about it?”
“Well, in my hurry to get it over with, I didn’t know it was better to train my arse first and work up to something the size of a cock. I hooked up with a guy in a club, and I didn’t tell him I was a virgin. Let’s just say I ended up a sobbing wreck in his bed.”
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
“It was my fault, and the guy was really nice about it, in a ‘are you okay, now get out of my flat’ kind of way.”
My chest tightens. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“I took it slower after that. Got myself some training plugs, made sure I could handle dick before I went looking for sex again. The main thing is, it didn’t put me off, and now I’m a man-whore. I prefer being fucked. I’m happy to top from time to time, but I hate it when a guy expects me to.”
“Expect you to?”
“Yeah, you know, because I look like this.” He gestures to himself.
“I’d never assume that about you.”
“I know, which is why you’re amazing and those guys aren’t. Now you’ve heard my embarrassing story, what’s yours? Everyone has at least one where sex is concerned.”
I purse my lips. “I’m not sure I have one.”
“Bullshit.” He straddles me and pins me down. “Tell me, or I’ll keep you here forever.”
“Forever?”
“Well, until it’s time to milk the cows. But I’ll still keep you here.”
“I can walk to my car. It’s not that far.” A mile and a half, at most.
“I’ll steal your clothes.”
I narrow my eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I? Do you really want to find out?”
I laugh and put my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “Fine, I’ll tell you.”
He smiles triumphantly, gets off me, and snuggles up to me.
“My first sexual encounter was with a girl called Tiffany Roberts. She wasn’t a virgin. I was nervous as hell, but figured doing stuff with a girl with experience was better than us both fumbling like fools.”
“And?” Angus’s eyes are a little too wide and eager.
“You’ve got to understand that everything I knew about sex came from my mates, most of whom also hadn’t had sex.”
“Where did they get their info from?”
“Porn,” I reply flatly.
“Oh, shit.”
“So, we’re at her house. Her parents are out, but she tells me we only have an hour, tops, before they get home, so could I please hurry up and go down on her?”
“Did you?”
“Yes. At least, I tried. The advice from my friends was to draw the alphabet with my tongue.”
Angus sniggers. “Oh my god. You didn’t?”
“I did. I got to H before she shoved me off and sent me packing.”
“I’m sorry.” He presses his lips together, not that it stops him from laughing.
“No, you’re not.”
“I am.” He wheezes and clutches his stomach.
I slam my mouth over his, kissing him until his laughter subsides and melts into a long, deep, satisfied moan.
“You are such a good kisser, Professor Jones.”
“You keep saying that.” I kiss the tip of his nose.
“I mean it.” He rakes his teeth over his glistening lower lip. “You’re wonderful.” His voice is soft and breathy, his gaze intense.
My heart quivers. For a moment, I forget to breathe. “So are you.”
“What was your first experience with a guy like?”
“Less embarrassing.”
Angus snorts. “That can’t have been difficult!”
“Evan Mitchell. We were in college together.”
“Was he a maths nerd, too?”
“What’s wrong with being a maths nerd?”
Angus holds his hands up. “Nothing. I’m one, remember? Maths nerds are hot.”
I chuckle. “You’re very hot.”
“So are you.” He clears his throat. “You were saying?”
“We made out in empty rooms at college a few times. We fucked—”
“In college?”
“No! At his place.”
Angus pouts. “Just when I thought the story was getting interesting.”
I roll my eyes.
“Sorry, carry on.”
“There’s not much else to tell. We didn’t see each other for long, but it cemented that I was bi. I had a few more flings with men and women, and then I met Ashley.” I sigh and rub my chest. “I should let you get to bed.”
“Yeah, probably.” His stare says he doesn’t want me to. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t mean to make you think of Ashley.”
“I did that. I’m okay, really. You need to sleep, though.”
I kiss his forehead and then gather my clothes and pull them on. He’s slower to move and takes even longer to get dressed. Once he is, I hold and kiss him.
“I had fun tonight.”
He smiles brightly. “Yeah, me too.”
“Do—do you ever get a day off?”
“Working on the farm?”
I nod.
“No. I try to take Thursday evening off, so I can go out with my friends from Barbell Soc, but sometimes it’s easier just to go home instead, rather than get tons of grief from Dad.”
“I’m sorry.”
He tilts his head. “Why, what were you thinking?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Forget it.” I shouldn’t let slip that I was wondering how nice it would be to keep him in my arms the whole night. To wake up together and have slow, sleepy sex. That’s not the sort of thing that hook-ups do.
He stares at me for a few seconds before shrugging. “Okay.” His voice has a slight quiver. He turns away, towards the door.
I catch hold of his wrist and tug him back. “The time we spend together—it means a lot to me.”
“And me.”
“But if you want to—”
He puts his finger over my lips. “Shush. I don’t want to stop. I’m happy doing what we do. But, hey, if you ever want to make it spicier, I’m game.”
“Spicier, how?”
He slips his wrist from my grasp and strides to the door. “Sex in a store cupboard on campus? Or maybe just a blow job. I promise I won’t trace the alphabet with my tongue on your dick.” He winks, flings the door open, and heads to his Land Rover.
I can’t do anything but stand and stare at him with my mouth wide open. Fuck. Was he serious?