20. Malcolm #2
“Okay, good.” Ryan turns to face me, his leg wrapping around mine this time before he kisses me like we didn’t just have the most intense sex of my life.
I touch his face, feeling his jaw move and his lashes flutter.
I run my thumb against the grain of the short stubble on his cheek.
He pulls away slowly, his hand smoothing circles on my ass. “You feel okay?”
I nod. “You?”
“Yeah. Does it hurt?”
“Now or during?”
“Either?”
“It’s intense,” I tell him. “You’re huge.”
“Sorry.” He ducks his head, pressing his forehead to mine. Our noses bump and I can’t help my small, stupid smile.
“Don’t be,” I tell him. “I love it.”
“You’re throwing that word around a lot tonight.”
“I said it twice.”
“You said it way more than twice.”
Maybe. Who knows what the fuck I was saying when he was tunneling through my insides. “Told you it was intense.”
His mouth grazes mine in an almost kiss. I follow it up with a real one, only stopping when my cock threatens to thicken again. I guess he follows the it doesn’t count if you say it when you’re fucking rule.
I wonder if it counts when you’re doped up on cough syrup.
“Can we start tomorrow like this?” I ask.
“If you want.”
I hate that answer. “What do you want?”
“For you to let me go get the damn dog so you don’t have to sleep by yourself tonight.”
This time, I think he might mean it, but that doesn’t stop me from double-checking. “Are you being serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” I tell him after a long second. “My keys are in my shorts. ”
“Rest up then, gorgeous. I expect a tip when I get home.”
Ryan Vale is a fucking dream. My goddamn hero.
I love him so much, I can’t stand it. I give him such a thorough blow job when he gets home with the dog, it makes us both come.
If I could have said anything with his gorgeous cock filling my mouth and throat, it would have been MINE , on repeat.
He’s so blatantly fucking amazing, so hot, it’s hard to believe I get to be the one in his bed.
After everything I’ve put him through, I get to hear his groans and feel his fingerprints on my scalp.
I get to drink his cum and listen to all his filthy praise.
I never want to forget today. From the lowest of lows to the highest of highs on one of the prettiest days this city has ever seen, I’ve got Ryan’s smile.
I refuse to let myself fall asleep until he does. Mainly because I want to make sure he does. He spends a lot of time looking at me and running his hands through my hair. I ask him why he didn’t sleep the first time I spent the night. He says, “I thought it might be the last time.”
I shake my head and kiss the tip of his nose. “No. And this won’t be either.”
“I feel like I should get a say in that.”
I sigh, determined to keep my eyes open as long as he does. “Obviously. But as a point of fact, you were the one who wouldn’t let me leave.”
“You didn’t want to go,” he says simply.
“You’re fucking exhausting.”
Ryan brushes his thumb along one of my eyebrows. “You want me to admit something?”
“Yeah,” I say .
“What do you want me to admit?”
“I’m gonna start pulling out your armpit hairs one by one…”
He laughs. “I really, really wanted you to stay.”
“Because you wanna fuck me again?” I ask.
“Or I just want eyes on you. Which one is more pathetic?”
“You’re not pathetic,” I tell him. “I wore Crocs today.”
“They made your calves look good,” he says.
I kiss him because I can’t tell him I love him again. I’m already the king of overkill when it comes to Ryan, and I wasn’t kidding about him being intimidating. He still scares the shit out of me in so many ways. Unless he’s holding me, in which case everything is pretty much okay.
When I separate my mouth from his, I say, “Go to sleep.”
“I will.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Stop being so beautiful,” he says almost too softly to hear.
Almost. “I refuse,” I whisper.
“Maybe sleeping is a stupid idea,” he says, his tone different, frustrated. “Maybe we should make a snack and watch a movie.”
Okay, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but for whatever reason, he can’t relax with me.
He’s not restless, he’s not uncomfortable, he doesn’t want me gone, but there’s obviously an issue, and since he spent the last four days avoiding me, I have to assume it’s me.
I know there’s a conversation that needs to be had, but I’m hesitant to ruin this day or even risk it.
But the idea of risking tomorrow is worse.
“I don’t want to watch a movie,” I tell him. “Instead, why don’t you put some clothes on and give me something to wear. I wanna talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About what I said earlier.”
“Which—”
“Just put some fucking pants on.” I let go of him and sit up. He stares at me for a long moment before slowly rolling over and getting out of bed. I follow him to his dresser. He hands me a pair of white briefs. Despite our different builds, we’re both medium-sized through the middle.
I pull mine on, not used to wearing anything other than boxer briefs—not since I was a child anyway—so I take a second to check myself out in his full length mirror. “My ass looks amazing.”
He glances over as he’s pulling his pants up. Even in the dim light, I notice his gaze heat. “Pants too.” I hold out my hand.
He tosses me some gray flannel pajama pants with a navy plaid print. They look like part of a set. Like something Jill would get him for Christmas. He’s got on a much sexier pair of sweats, but the important part is I won’t be quite as tempted to grab onto his cock and stuff it back in my mouth.
“Am I not allowed to touch you either?” he asks.
I’m flattered. “Don’t be crazy. Come beanbag with me.”
After a long stare he ends by shaking his head in defeat, Ryan crosses the room to the beanbag chair. He sits first, and I straddle his lap, wanting to look at him.
“What’s this about?” he asks, settling his hands on my upper thighs.
“Why can’t you sleep?” Okay, that’s a copout, but I’ve got to warm up to this. It would really help if he came out and asked me why I’m all of a sudden so eager to take a cock up my ass.
“I guess it’d be stupid to say I keep wondering what your angle is.”
Thank God. That’s damn near close enough. I shake my head. “No. I changed overnight, and I know why, and you don’t.”
“You said it wasn’t overnight.”
“It wasn’t, but I get how it looks like that, and why it might be keeping you up.”
His eyes warm as he tilts his head and looks up at me. The expression is so affectionate, it makes me want to keep doing whatever I’m doing right.
Talk. Keep talking, Malcolm.
“So…this is partly about my mom.”
His hands move to wrap around my hips, getting a better hold on me, which I can’t describe how much I appreciate. “Okay.”
I’m so fucking nervous. I’ve never said any of this out loud.
I don’t know if I’ve ever put these particular thoughts into words.
It’s images mainly and feelings that only started to make sense when Ryan pushed me against the wall, and I realized I wanted him to kiss me.
I take a shaky breath. “And my mom’s cousin. ”