Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Jacob
“I can’t believe we leave in two days,” I sigh, balancing my phone on the bathroom counter while I apply some body lotion.
I had just come out of the shower when Alex called to keep him company while he worked on today’s baking—thankfully forgoing FaceTime this time.
“It’s gone by really quick, but it also feels like forever, if that makes sense.”
I laugh. “Weirdly, it does make sense.”
“Can I pick you up from the airport?” he asks. “Daniel and Aria will mind the shop. I just…” He trails off, and I can hear the uncertainty in his voice. “I’ve just really missed you, and I kinda don’t want to wait until Ethan drops you off to see you.”
I close my eyes and swallow down my emotions. No matter how much I want to delay the inevitable, we’re running out of time, and the thought of ending this, whatever this is, makes my chest ache.
While we’ve been here, I’ve seen Ethan’s guard start to drop. He’s allowed his vulnerability to show through, and it’s made him even more beautiful to me.
But his guard is slowly going back up, and when we go back…I’m not sure how things will be.
I quietly clear my throat, hoping it helps me sound chipper when I speak.
“Of course you can pick me up.” I hang up my wet towel on the towel rail, then walk out into Ethan’s bedroom, taking a seat on the armchair that he sat on the night of the wedding.
I curl my legs up under me, resting my phone on the arm, and gaze out of the window. “How is everything back home?”
“It’s going good,” Alex replies. “Busy as ever. Blaine and Elliot have been helping out a lot. Well, Elliot’s probably caused more chaos than anything else.”
I snort. “Oh God, what’s he been doing?”
“Just being Elliot,” he answers with a laugh. “Daniel tried to teach him how to use the coffee machine, and he ended up burning his hand on the steamer. He almost dropped a tray of cookies on the floor too, but managed to catch himself before they slipped off.”
I cover my mouth with my hand and laugh. “Oh wow. He’s a wild one.”
“He is, but he’s been awesome. When Blaine’s been helping out here, El’s been looking after Ernie for us. He also found a really old Elvis vinyl and bought it for me the other day.”
My heart squeezes in my chest.
Before they passed, our grandparents had a decades- long tradition of dancing to “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis Presley every Sunday.
Since Alex told Blaine about it, they decided to carry on with that tradition.
When Alex and I were still living together and Blaine didn’t have a game, they would dance in the living room while I made myself scarce.
I was so freaking happy for my brother, but that brought on a whole new wave of grief I didn’t want him to witness.
“That was sweet of him.”
“It was.” I can hear the smile in Alex’s voice. “Anyway, I better go open up. Daniel will be here any minute. Will you call me later?”
“Of course, I will.”
“Cool! I miss you, Jake. I can’t wait for you to come home.”
That damn lump forms in my throat again, causing my voice to come out weak. “I miss you too, Alex. Have a good day.”
We hang up, and I drop my head back onto the cushion, staring up at the ceiling.
There’s a weird mix of emotions coursing through me. I want to stay here, wrapped up in this little bubble Ethan and I have, but I also miss home.
I miss seeing my brother, working at the bakery, and my own bed. I miss my routine and the constant reminders of my parents and grandparents around me.
I wish I could have it all.
Mentally shaking the gloomy cloud away, I get up and go downstairs, heading into the gym where Ethan is working out.
He’s sitting on the floor with a weighted ball, grimacing as he shifts it from side to side, and I take him in for a couple of minutes.
I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to see him like this again.
The second he spots me, he places the ball on the floor and stands up. His inquisitive gaze roams over my face, a frown lining his forehead under the peak of his baseball cap.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, concerned.
I want to hate the fact he has the ability to read me so well after such a short period of time together, but I can’t. I love how attentive he is, how he pays attention to the little details. I just can’t let myself read too much into it.
“Yeah,” I nod. “I was just on the phone with Alex and started to feel a little homesick.”
His frown deepens, but I wave him off. “I’m fine, honestly.”
Ethan’s silent for a beat, just looking at me with those intense, dark eyes. “Need me to help take your mind off of it?”
I can pinpoint the moment his face changes—the glint in his eye, the way his lips tip up in a smirk, and the sight of those godforsaken dimples that make my knees weak every single time.
“Do you even have to ask?” I say, dropping my voice into a sultry tone.
He takes a step closer and leans down, his breath fanning the shell of my ear. His hands roam down my sides to the waistband of my shorts.
“You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Why?” I whisper.
“Your legs look fucking unreal in these shorts, Jacob.” His hands slide around to squeeze my ass. “And they show off your phenomenal ass. ”
Tilting my head up, I graze my teeth over my lower lip, loving how his dark eyes flare with desire as they track the movement. I stick the tip of my tongue out of the corner of my mouth and smirk.
“Should I apologize?”
He grips my chin, his warm breath ghosting over my mouth. The way his lips slowly teases me by barely touching mine makes me whimper and groan as I become desperate for more.
“No.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I fucking love it,” he growls, and my body shivers from my head to my toes.
Ethan drops his hand from my chin and lifts the hem of my t-shirt, tossing it unceremoniously onto the floor before pushing down the shorts he was admiring only seconds ago. I lift my feet to step out of them, and he kicks them out of the way.
“And here I was, thinking you liked those shorts!”
“Stand there,” he orders, ignoring my taunt and points to the full-length mirror that lines one wall of his gym. “And don’t move.”
Doing as instructed, I step around him and walk to the mirror. I can feel his gaze roaming my body from behind me, and heat prickles all over my skin. I subtly wipe my palms on the elastic waistband of my underwear, watching as he prowls toward me.
Determined.
Hungry.
I take in our reflection in the mirror as Ethan steps up behind me .
We’re so different. Everything about him turns me on. He’s a good five inches taller than me. His torso is as wide as my shoulders. The dark smattering of hair covering his hard, sculpted pecs. He’s all strong arms and thick thighs and luscious calves.
I’m not built like that. Maybe I should be self-conscious about it and about him being fully clothed while I’m in a jockstrap. But I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter.
Because we fit.
Because the way he takes me in makes me feel like…more.
Superior, in a way.
Like I can do anything. Like I’m the sexiest man alive, and I’ve never experienced that with previous guys.
My hands twist in front of me—I’m not sure what to do with them. I want to touch myself, but he told me not to move. My cock throbs. Pre-come seeps through the fabric of my jock, and when he tosses his t-shirt aside and drops his basketball shorts, an appreciative groan escapes me.
Does the whole not touching myself thing include jerking off?
The heat of his body warms my back as he presses his chest against me. Those dark orbs focus on me as he leans down and says, “Now, Jacob, I want you to keep your eyes open. I want you to watch every moment. If you shut them, I’ll stop. Do you understand?”
I’ve lost my ability to speak, so I just nod.
“Good boy.”
Fuck. Me.
Why does that make me lose my goddamn mind in the best possible way ?
My eyes are glued to the mirror, watching as this man wraps a hand around my throat, while smoothing the other down my stomach to the juncture of my thighs. The tips of his fingers skim the fabric of my underwear, causing my entire body to vibrate with need.
His tongue peeks out to flick the lobe of my ear, then tugs it between his teeth. I’m fighting myself because I want to close my eyes and give in to the pleasure so bad. But also, I don’t want him to stop.
“You’re fucking breathtaking,” Ethan whispers.
He trails his calloused fingertips up my stomach, ghosting over my belly button to the center of my chest.
A small gasp escapes me as he pinches my nipple. He’s gentle, but every movement he makes is controlled and powerful, one hand still around my throat, fingers digging into the underside of my jaw just slightly.
My hands clench into fists at my sides. I’m desperate to touch myself. To touch him. For him to finally touch me the way I want him to. But I love letting Ethan take control. It’s something I never expected to enjoy so much, given my history with “jocks,” but Ethan is different.
Dominant but safe. I know he would stop the moment I told him to.
But right now, I’m aching for him. I need him to touch me more than I need my next breath.
“Ethan,” I plead, curling my toes into the rubber mat beneath my feet. His hot, stiff cock nestles in my crease, and I’m unable to stop myself. I push back into him as he bends his knees, sliding his length between my cheeks.
“Do you want me to take you here, Jacob?” he growls. “ Do you want to watch as I fuck you, so you can see how fucking beautiful you are when I’m inside you?”
I lick my dry lips, my breath coming out in heavy pants.
“Jacob, use your words.”
“Yes,” I wheeze.
“Good boy, but remember—don’t move.”
I let out a choked whine when he lets go and walks away. My eyes remain locked on his retreating back as he quickly runs upstairs, returning a few moments later with a condom and a packet of lube.
Stepping behind me again, Ethan removes his boxers, then slides my underwear down my legs. He taps my ankles, giving me permission to move, and I step out of them.
I don’t think I could be more turned on than I am right now, but then he proves me wrong.
He twists his baseball cap backward, drops to his knees, and spreads my cheeks apart before licking a hot, wet stripe over my hole.
I move my hands toward the mirror for some stability as my legs begin to quiver.
He’s relentless. His fingers dig into my hips, keeping me still as his deft tongue opens me up.
He slips one finger inside me, then a second, scissoring and sliding over my prostate in tantalizing strokes before adding a third.
He alternates between pumping his fingers inside me and using his tongue.
His teeth graze over my ass before he bites on the flesh and sucks.
A loud moan escapes me. He’s going to leave a mark, and I want to tell him to mark me as his any way he wants to, but all I can manage is, “Please. Hurry,” I beg.
He freezes. I catch his eyes when he tilts his head and looks at me through the mirror. One dark brow raised, a devilish smirk on his lips.
“Ethan, I swear, if you don’t get inside me in the next twenty seconds, I’m going to scream,” I warn.
“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” he mumbles with a grin.
He stands to his full height and rolls the condom down his steely length, coating himself with copious amounts of lube and adding more to my hole.
He widens his stance, bending his knees slightly to line himself up, then touches the center of my back, gently pushing me to lean forward slightly.
The head of his cock brushes against my hole, and I open my mouth to tell him I can’t take his brand of torture anymore.
But the words get lost on my tongue and I lose all coherent thought as he slowly eases inside.
I let out a long, satisfied groan. The burn from his cock stretching me causes my toes to curl into the rubber mat beneath my feet.
Forcing my eyes to remain open, I watch his expression in the mirror.
His eyes are locked on where we’re joined, his brows furrowed in concentration beneath his cap.
A hiss escapes him from behind clenched teeth as he pushes all the way in.
“Fuck!” he grunts, tilting his head back and exposing the thick column of his throat. “No one has ever felt this good, Jacob.”
When Ethan finally starts to thrust in quick, shallow strokes, I lose my grip on the mirror and shift to find purpose as sweat coats my palms.
I glance down. My dick is leaking. Pre-come drips onto the mat with every thrust of Ethan’s hips.
I’m so fucking close that my legs are becoming weak, and I think they might give out the second I come.
My entire body trembles with pleasure and sweat beads at my temples and at the nape of my neck before trickling down my spine.
“You need to touch yourself, baby?” he asks, his voice like gravel in my ear. “Well, too bad. Keep your hands on the mirror because that’s my job.”
He takes my aching cock in his hand, pumping me in time with each thrust of his hips, and wraps his other hand around my throat again. The sight makes my knees even weaker.
Who knew I would love hand necklaces?
All my words come out as incoherent moans. Grunts, moans, whimpers, and slapping flesh fill the air, and I know I can’t hold back anymore.
“I’m going to come,” I pant, praying he’ll let me. Spots fill my vision, but when I go to close my eyes, the slight squeeze of Ethan’s hand on my throat stops me.
“You can come, but Jacob…your eyes stay open.”
My release hits me like a tsunami. Stars cloud my vision. I cry out his name as come spills over his fist, hitting the mat and the mirror in front of me.
My entire body shudders, and Ethan wraps a hand over my torso and shoulder, pulling me tight against his body to keep me upright. His thrusts turn frantic, like he can’t control himself anymore.
“Jacob,” he groans behind clenched teeth.
I can feel the heat of his come through the condom. He holds me close, his heart an erratic beat against my back. Our bodies are trembling with post-orgasmic bliss, but we just stand there—glued together, eyes locked in the mirror.
I don’t want this connection to end .
There’s a shift in Ethan’s eyes. It looks a lot like hope, but it’s tinted with fear. Like maybe Ethan wants me, but he’s too afraid.
Afraid to let go and let himself feel. To open himself up to the concept of love. To more .
I desperately want to tell him I’ll be patient. That I’ll wait for him for as long as he needs.
I would tell him everything in a heartbeat if I knew it wouldn’t scare him away.
Because his rejection would tear my heart in two, and I can’t let myself go through that.