Chapter 18
MATTHEW
I was lying in bed, staring at Ally’s picture on my nightstand while Louis gently snored behind me.
After a couple of sleepless nights, followed by mutual orgasms and a shower, I’d sunk fast and deep into oblivion.
And by the way the light was filtering through the windows, I’d guess we’d slept for a couple of hours.
But now I was awake, and I was full of thoughts.
Louis stirred beside me, stretched, then rolled over and rested his chin on my chest. “What are you looking at?”
I reached over and pulled the framed photo off the nightstand, bringing it closer so he could see it more clearly without his glasses.
“No beard?” He reached out and traced his finger across my face over the top of the glass.
I tried to see the image as if I was looking at it through his eyes.
Dark hair, not yet starting to gray, worn short and freshly trimmed.
Clean-shaven face unmarred by wrinkles. Freshly pressed suit on a body at least twenty pounds lighter. A groom and his beautiful bride.
Ally was grinning from ear to ear at the camera, but my eyes were focused solely on her. She’d been the sun in my solar system. She had that effect on everyone. She was the only one I’d ever had eyes for . . . until now.
“The beard came later.” My voice was gruff from sleep.
Louis scratched his fingertips over the hair on my chin. “I like the beard.”
“Ally did too. She made me promise never to shave it off. Not that I really wanted to anyway.” I was sure it was inappropriate to be talking about the love of my life while someone else was in my bed, but Ally had been such an integral part of my world for so long, it was impossible to keep her separate.
And Louis didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it actually felt good to talk about her with him.
I’d barely spoken to anyone about her since she passed, and she didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to be forgotten.
“She would have liked you.”
“Yeah?” I could hear the shock of surprise in his voice.
“She would have thought you were hilarious. And I have no doubt the two of you would’ve been thick as thieves, likely plotting against me.”
He chuckled, the rumble of his laugh vibrating through my chest. “I’m sorry I never had the opportunity to meet her.”
We fell silent, and after a moment, I returned the picture to its place on my nightstand. Louis’s fingertips forged paths through my chest hair in a soothing rhythm. “How’s the processing going?”
The corner of my mouth rose involuntarily, amused at the way he’d asked his question. I squeezed his hip, offering reassurance as I answered. “I’d say I’m making progress.”
“Good . . . That’s good.”
“Any hesitation I have is nothing to do with you. You get that, right?” I kissed the top of his head for emphasis.
“I keep trying to put myself in your position, but I just can’t imagine what it would feel like to suddenly find myself attracted to a woman. I think the fact that you’ve been willing to explore this side of yourself is amazing.”
It didn’t feel amazing. It felt confusing and frustrating, as though my entire life had been turned upside down. But it also felt like something had slid into place. Like some hidden message had been decoded and Louis had been the key to unlocking it.
“I certainly don’t feel amazing. But I do think I’m beginning to make peace with my . . . bisexuality, I guess it is.”
“That’s great. Is that the label you’d give yourself?”
“What else would it be?”
“Well, there’s pansexual, which means you’re attracted to a person regardless of their gender, which is different from bisexual in that bisexuals are attracted to at least two genders.”
I mulled that over, trying to wrap my head around the differences between the two.
“Can I ask you if you ever felt attraction to anyone other than Ally?”
“Besides you?”
I felt his lips curve in a smile against my chest. “Right. And me.”
“I don’t know. It was a long time ago. I fell in love with Ally when I was fifteen.”
“No middle school crushes before that?”
“I don’t remember. Like I said, it was a long fucking time ago. Do you remember your middle school crush?”
“Of course. In sixth grade, it was Henry Zhu. And then in seventh grade, I started the year liking Michael Tracy, but I gave that up in favor of Julian Sanchez. God, he had the best hair. I used to sit in math class and dream about running my hands through his thick, dark strands. Anyway . . . in eighth grade there was—”
“I get the picture. You had a lot of crushes.”
“Sorry. Got carried away.”
“As you do.”
“Sorr—”
“Uh-uh. No more apologizing, remember?”
He let out a dramatic sigh, but snuggled in closer, tossing his knee over my thigh. I did my best to ignore the fact that his dick was pressing into my hip in this position.
“I don’t think I really had any crushes before Ally,” I continued. “And if I did, they weren’t particularly noteworthy.”
“You might be demisexual.” My head was spinning with all these labels I’d never heard of. “That’s where you need to have an emotional connection with someone before you experience attraction,” he explained.
I thought that one over. I supposed it might fit. But since I was definitely attracted to Louis, that would mean I’d already developed an emotional connection with him. That couldn’t be right, could it? I’d only known him a few days.
“Does the label really matter?”
“Of course not. But if and when you choose to come out, be prepared for people to ask. You don’t have to tell them anything if you don’t want, but they will ask. People like to assign boxes for others to fit neatly into.”
“Fuck them. It’s none of their goddamn business.”
“Ah, there’s my grumpy, growly mountain man.”
“We aren’t on a mountain, and I do not growl.”
He chuckled, propping himself up so he could look at me. “You totally growl. It’s part of your charm.” I could feel myself frowning, but that didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to my lips. “Don’t worry, though. It’s sexy as hell.”
“I think that’s enough talking.” I surged up, flipped him onto his back, and pinned him in place. If he wanted a growl, I’d give him one.
I swung my leg over him, straddling his belly and rubbing my hardening cock against his skin.
Taking his hands in mine, I pinned them above his head, then bent down and bit at the skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
I trailed my tongue up the column of his throat before taking his earlobe into my mouth and giving it a nibble.
He bucked his hips, his cock grazing the cleft of my ass and sending a jolt of lust shooting through my body.
I hissed in response, and though I’d had plans of stretching this out, of teasing him for his sass, the feel of his cock against my ass, even as light as the touch was, sent those thoughts flying right out the window.
My new focus was on possession. On showing him who was in charge.
I started with his smart mouth, sealing it with mine and shoving my tongue inside with very little finesse. I kissed him deeply. Fiercely. Swallowing his moans and whimpers until my lips were raw, and I could barely breathe. “I’m going to let go of your hands. Are you going to behave?”
“Absolutely not.”
He grinned, and lord help me but I couldn’t resist kissing him again. That smart mouth of his . . . What was it about that mouth that just did it for me? I was a glutton for punishment, that was for damn sure.
Shaking my head, I shifted my body, sliding lower until my knees framed his hips and my cock was hovering above his.
I watched as the bead of precum that had gathered at the tip of my dick glistened and then dropped to land on his.
Fuck, what a sight that was. It wasn’t something I’d ever imagined seeing in my wildest dreams, let alone experiencing in person, but there was no denying it was hot as fuck.
In fact, everything I’d experienced with him was hot as fuck. I needed to stop comparing this to what I’d experienced before, and I needed to stop worrying about what might come after. I should focus on right now and enjoy every moment of it.
I leaned over and slid open my nightstand, rummaging around until I came up with a bottle of lube.
“That answers that question,” he muttered.
My eyes shot to his. “What?”
“I was just wondering the other day if straight men knew about lube.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, we know about lube. Gay guys aren’t the only ones who use it.”
I flipped the lid and drizzled some over both of our cocks, then closed the lid and tossed it aside.
He started to speak, I assumed to respond to my comment, but he never got the words out.
I’d taken both of our dicks in my hand, and began spreading the lube on both of us, causing him to pull in a sharp breath and close his eyes.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he muttered, his voice thin and breathy.
I released us, leaning forward to brace myself on my hands while I stared down at him. I waited for his eyes to open and focus on mine, then gave a testing roll of my hips. I’d been riveted by a scene like this in my book and now seemed like a good time to try it.
“You like that, don’t you?” I asked, my voice gruff as I rolled my hips again. His pupils were blown wide as he stared up at me, lips parted and color staining his cheeks. For once, he didn’t have anything to say. “You like my weight on you? Holding you down while I rub my dick against yours?”
He brought his hands down to grab my ass and squeeze as he thrust his hips up into mine. “I don’t just like it. I fucking love it, Matty. Jesus, you feel so damn good.”
I lowered myself onto my elbows, bringing my face closer to his and changing the angle of my hips.
In this position, our cocks were trapped between our bellies, adding more friction and sending sparks skittering along my spine.
We’d barely started, and I already knew I wasn’t going to last much longer.
Wanting it fast and dirty, I jerked my hips forward again and again, rutting against him in a relentless rhythm. Feverish with the need to get off, I thrust harder and faster, nearly going mad with the feel of his body against mine.
“Come on, Lou. Come for me.” His eyes rolled back and his chin tipped up as he let loose a guttural moan. Liquid heat spread between us, adding more lubrication to the mix, and I felt my own eyes roll back as the first spurt of cum shot out of me.
“Fuuuuck,” I grunted, my head falling to his shoulder as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me.
My hips slowed to a stop, and I collapsed on top of him in a heap. I was sweaty and there was a pool of cum trapped between us, but I couldn’t summon the energy to do anything about it.
“Am I squishing you?” I mumbled into his shoulder. I sincerely hoped his answer was no because I didn’t think I could move just yet.
“No. I like your weight on top of me.”
“Good. I might just have to stay like this for eternity.”
He chuckled, rubbing his hands up and down my back. “What’s wrong, old man? Two orgasms in one day too much for you to handle?”
“You’re two years older than me.” I pinched his arm. “Old man.”
“Rude.”
“You started it.” Somehow, he’d reduced my maturity level to that of a twelve-year-old. And damn was it nice to flirt with someone again.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that we’d skipped lunch. With great effort, I rolled off him, stood, and held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up, and we can eat a late lunch.”