Chapter 20
Liam
Iknow the gym isn’t Damon’s cup of tea, but he gives his all every rep.
I may have pushed a little hard this morning, but I wanted him to see what his body was capable of.
Still, I know without me, he wouldn’t push himself like this.
Just like half the slopes we’ve done on this trip.
Damon would stay on the green and blue slopes if I let him, but sometimes, those who crave control are the ones who need to lose it the most.
When Damon finishes his set, I take my place on the bench to get another set in. By the time I get done adding weights, the doors to the gym open, and two women around our age enter.
I’m immediately annoyed, which isn’t fair, but it’s true. They’re interrupting my time with Damon, and I know he’ll be even more self-conscious if he’s learning new movements with an audience.
After twenty minutes, when neither of them pulls out a phone to record themselves, and they mind their business, I relax a little.
But as I’m going over split squats with Damon, the brunette asks if she can have a spot on the bench.
I don’t mind helping. I swear I don’t. I just really don’t want to do it right now. But sometimes, I’m too fucking nice. Making sure Damon is safe, with his back foot up on the bench and a light dumbbell in each of his hands, I make my way to the squat rack the girl has chosen.
Interestingly, she reminds me a little of Hannah. She’s attractive and clearly enjoys skiing and working out. I should be enthralled. I’d been looking so forward to getting laid in the weeks leading up to this trip.
But all I feel is irritated that she’s pulling me away from Damon…my brave, if not mildly melodramatic, ride-or-die who’s been my rock for two decades…who’s gay…and in love with me…and said he thought I was the sexiest man in the world.
Looking over at Damon, he’s drenched in sweat with a look of determination on his face. I know he’s feeling the burn, and he’ll be sore as fuck for a couple of days, but light, easy ski runs could be good to work that soreness out. And the hot tub is definitely in our future.
As soon as I think about the hot tub, images pop into my mind, unbidden. Dirty ones.
I finish helping the girl with her set, and she sits up, wiping her forehead.
“Nice work,” I say encouragingly, holding up my fist for her to bump.
“Thanks,” she says before her eyes rove over my chest, and for the first time in my life, I’m grateful I still have clothes on. “I’m Sasha.”
“Liam,” I reply, before attempting to step around the front of the rack to tell Damon to take a break.
But I don’t get far before Sasha stops me. “Um, any chance I could get your number?”
Damon’s head whips toward us, watching the interaction with an unreadable expression on his face.
His cheeks are pink from effort, the hair at the base of his neck is damp, there’s a sheen of sweat on his upper lip as well, and the veins in his forearms are extra pronounced after gripping the dumbbells for so long.
“My number?” I ask stupidly, not following.
She laughs nervously. “Uh, yeah, that thing that allows people to call or text you? I’d ask for your Snap or TikTok handle, but I’m like the last human on earth who doesn’t have social media.”
A girl my age who doesn’t buy into social media? This chick is a fucking unicorn.
So why the fuck do the words, “I’m actually seeing someone, but thank you,” come out of my mouth?
Glancing back at Damon, he looks as surprised as I feel.
Sasha smiles. “I figured you probably were, but it was worth a try. You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, right? She’s a lucky girl.”
“Who?” I ask, my brows knitting together.
“Um, your girlfriend?”
My synapses are short-circuiting, and I’m not following along because the other half of my brain is choosing now to replay how it felt to hold Damon in my arms as I slept last night, the look of relief on his face when he told me he was gay, the terror in his eyes when he told me he was in love with me, the love in his eyes when he moved in after my mom died and made every meal and washed every load of laundry.
It’s replaying his words from earlier about sexuality being on a spectrum, and how, as long as he knew I was happy and safe, he could survive anything.
I think about my kiss with Vox. How it didn’t feel wrong because he was a guy; it felt wrong because he wasn’t…
“Damon.”
“What?” Sasha says, not hearing me.
“I don’t have a girlfriend. My boyfriend’s name is Damon.”
Thank God Damon isn’t holding the dumbbells anymore because I’m afraid we’d be headed to the emergency room for broken toes.
I move around Sasha, rushing to Damon because I need to know if what I’m feeling is real. Not giving him a chance to talk, I grab his hand, pulling him out of the gym and into the locker room with me.
Backing him into the wall, he’s too stunned to speak.
How could I have missed this? How could I not have known this about myself? The questions are endless, but I push them aside.
Caging Damon in with my hands braced on either side of his head, my eyes flit between his.
“I want to try something, and I don’t know if it’ll make things better or worse, but after the shit you pulled last night, you owe me the chance to figure it out.”
He swallows hard and nods, keeping silent.
I’ve now been kissed three times by guys, but I didn’t initiate any of them, and I’m a little unsure where to start despite wanting to do this. Thankfully, as always, Damon senses I need help and guides me by bringing his hand to the back of my neck, slowly pulling me closer.
“Is this what you wanted?” he pants, our mouths an inch apart.
My fucking dick jumps like it’s trying to abandon ship and find refuge in his gym shorts.
That’s new, but fuck it. We only have five days left, and if I feel the same way about Damon that he feels about me, then I need to figure my shit out fast.
I bring my lips down to his, sliding my hand to his hip. It’s familiar to me since I spent most of last night with my hand on it, ensuring he wasn’t going to run from me again.
Damon brings his other hand up, so he’s now got both hands around the back of my neck, holding me to him, and before long, he groans and pushes his hips forward.
It’s the first time I’ve felt another man’s erection on purpose, but knowing I’m making him hard is making me hard. Damon is panting against my mouth, deepening the kiss before pulling back completely.
“Wow. Fuck. Sorry. You gave me an inch, and I took the whole fucking mile, didn’t I?” He had to stand on his toes to reach me, and now he drops back down, taking his hands with him.
“I didn’t mind.” Immediately, I frown. That’s too passive a statement, so I try again. “I mean, I liked it.”
“Yeah?” The hope in his voice twists my insides. He’s looking at me like I just gave him the world.
Running my hand through his sweaty hair and placing my forehead against his, I confirm. “Yeah.”
“You know there’s no expectation here, right? Like, I don’t expect you to indulge me just because of our frien—”
I don’t let him finish before my mouth is on his again, tasting, teasing, taking.
Damon melts under my touch, making me feel powerful and desirable in a way no woman ever has.
He’s firm in ways they aren’t, and his sweat smells masculine, raw, and natural, not like artificial vanilla or something fruity.
It brings out something primal in me. The need to conquer and dominate is strong. Eventually, I’ll need a minute to process that because I’m usually more of a follower than a leader, but I can’t be bothered to examine it right now.
I swallow the groan he makes when my hips push forward, locking him in place. Without giving it much thought, my other hand comes off the wall to wrap around the base of his throat.
He moans much louder this time.
He likes that.
Damon likes control. He calls the shots between us all the time.
Even for this vacation, he chose the place, the dates, the lodging, the rental car, and the itinerary.
Hell, he calls the shots at work and everywhere else, too.
I’ve never really thought about it, but I guess I assumed he’d call them in bed as well, but the way he’s giving himself to me right now has me thinking I was wrong… and fuck do I like taking it from him.
Pulling back, I look down at Damon with a smirk. “That wasn’t half bad, Landry. Could’ve used a little more tongue. But extra points for the Landry lips.”
He gives me a shy smile, like he still can’t believe this is happening.
Me either, but now that it is, it’s kind of hard to believe I didn’t see it sooner.
Before things can progress further, the door on the other side of the wall opens, telling us our private moment is no longer private.
Damon pushes at my chest, and I take a reluctant step back, my eyes never leaving his as an older man comes around the corner and chooses a locker, ignoring us.
“Let’s get out of here,” Damon whispers, pushing his hand into his cock in an attempt to readjust himself.
I nod. My mind is still reeling, but my heart and my body seem to be on the same page.