Chapter 12
PERRY
There was never anything quite like the calm of having Evan’s naked body pressed to mine, hearing his breathing, even as he slept, laying my hand over his heart to feel it thumping.
His energy was always off when he’d been out all day. After a long work shift, he’d bounce in the door and talk a mile a minute. But eventually, at the end of the day, when the lights went out and he was in our bed, sex or no sex, he would finally still. That was my favourite time.
I loved his energy, and his non-stop talking, the way he always wanted to touch me, reassure me I was loved, but this stillness that came over him when he finally stopped made my heart happy.
I snuggled in with a sigh, closed my eyes, and didn’t waste any sleeplessness on Alan Channing.
We’d already decided he was a problem for future us to solve, though I wasn’t even sure how much of a problem.
We’d both expressed our interest already.
He was hot. No denying that. And Evan liked him well enough to listen to him.
I liked him well enough not to go fully caveman when that happened.
He was sensitive enough that what he suggested made sense.
Made Evan calmer and, strangely, made me calmer too.
The weight and warmth of Evan next to me soothed a lot of my discomfort while I watched the darkness deepen to black, and listened to him breathe.
He’d been asleep for a while before the Tylenol finally kicked in and my face stopped throbbing.
I drifted off smelling our shampoo in his hair and our soap on his skin.
Evan was already up when I finally gave in to the weak sunshine slanting across our pillows and, sadly, across my face.
I climbed out of the warm nest and wandered to the kitchen where he was dancing to whatever was playing over his headphones, waving one oven-mitted hand in the air and singing into an egg-covered spatula.
I leaned in the doorway to watch him, smiling, because yeah, there was pretty much nothing about how he was in the world that I didn’t love.
He finally noticed me when he did a pirouette, a reminder that curling wasn’t the first thing he’d done on the ice. He’d grown up a figure skater, though he assured me he was a much better curler.
“Hey.” He grinned and shoved his headphones down around his neck. “Ooh. Ow.” He squinted closely at what I could only imagine was a pretty impressive shiner. “How’s that feel?”
“Wouldn’t say no to a couple more Tylenol.”
“I can do that.” He put the spatula and oven mitt next to the stove and fetched the bottle, opening it for me as he brought it over. “I’ll get you some water for those, and a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed his wrist when he handed me the pills, so I could pull him close enough to kiss.
He didn’t hesitate to kiss me back, though he did screw up his face as he pulled back. “Morning breath.” Then he kissed me again, handed off the pills, and sashayed to the sink to the rhythm of the music I could now faintly hear emanating from his headphones.
His sweet voice was so off-key I couldn’t help another smile. I loved the guy to pieces and seeing him happy was like being bathed in sunshine and washed clean in a warm rain all at the same time.
“You staring at my butt?” he asked without turning around. He was filling a glass under the cold water tap and swaying his hips to the music.
“Hundred per cent.”
He swayed with more exaggerated movements.
“We should go back to bed,” I suggested.
“Wow.” Handing me the glass of water, he wrinkled his nose and did a stripper shimmy that had my dick taking notice. “Horn dog.”
“Fuck, yes. Look at you.”
“And while that is amazing for my ego, and more tempting than I can describe, we have to eat. Big game today, and you, sleeping beauty, were in bed for an extra hour.”
“I was?”
“You was.” He’d been fixing me a coffee while I took my pills, and he handed that to me too. “Go sit. I made eggs the way you like them, with toast and tomatoes and cottage cheese on the side.”
“Is it my birthday?” This meal wasn’t just his specialty, it was pretty much the only thing he ever made, mostly because toast was easy and the eggs were the only other thing he had to cook and he usually got them right.
“We’re starting the day off right.”
“Isn’t right you taking care of the boner you just gave me?”
“I gave you? What did I do?”
“Existed.”
“God, I love you. Now sit down. Food first, sex after, if there’s time.”
“Always time for sex.”
“No lies.”
And there was, because we ate fast, cleaned up—Evan could not come home to a messy house and be able to settle, so we always cleaned as we went—and put on a second pot of coffee.
As it began to burble through the machine, Evan dropped to his knees in front of me, gazing up with his big, beautiful eyes shining.
The erection he’d given me earlier had gone away with time, but it came back instantly and I palmed myself. “You going to suck me off?”
“I am.”
“Good deal.” I pushed my sleep pants down far enough for him to get at my cock, while he did the same with his, fisting his own cock in one hand, and mine in his other.
I wondered if he was imagining someone behind him, fingering his hole while he swallowed me down.
Did he miss that? I pictured it sometimes, watching my cock disappear into his mouth, shoving it down his throat while someone else shoved theirs in his ass.
The imagined guy never had a face in my mind.
Just a huge cock Evan took like a champ while he let me fuck his mouth.
Of course, this time, the hands I imagined on his hips were familiar. Big, strong, capable of delivering a curling stone with authority, but also cupping my face with feather-light care. Fuck my life. I was not imagining Alan Channing fucking my boyfriend while he sucked me off.
Was I?
“Ev.” My voice came out gruff and husky.
He chose that moment to suck hard, push forward and lodge my dick in his throat.
“Fuck. Ev.” I grabbed his hair to steady myself and he moaned. “Fucking Jesus Christ.” I rocked my hips and he took me deeper.
He was very good at this, but I wasn’t giving him the chance to finesse. I’d let the image in and my brain had run away with it. Alan pumping in and out of his ass while I pumped in and out of his mouth, him blissfully suspended between us, letting us use his body as hard as we wanted to.
I fucked his mouth harder, tangled my fingers in his hair to hold him where I wanted him and, in the periphery of my frenzy, noticed his hand on his own cock had stopped, like he’d forgotten what he’d been doing with it.
His eyes watered as he looked up at me, his cheeks flushed and his pupils blown. “Fuck. Sorry.”
“Nnfgh.” He clapped a hand on my ass, holding me deep inside him while his throat worked around me and he swirled his tongue and pressed it up against the bottom of my dick. His fingers dug into my ass so I took him at his word and thrust in deep, pulled back, and thrust again.
He moaned, then almost sighed as I pumped. His rock-hard cock leaked precome on his belly, but I could tell he wasn’t going to come this way.
I yanked on his hair. “Up,” I ordered, pulling out of his mouth.
He didn’t say anything as he rose and turned his back, bracing both hands on the table.
I parted his cheeks and bent to spit on the pink pucker of skin before pushing a finger in.
“No prep.”
“Ev—”
“Fuck me. Hard.”
He so rarely asked for anything, only giving whatever I wanted, so I reached behind me to the kitchen junk drawer for lube, slicked up, and did what he asked.
He’d primed me well with his mouth, and I knew as soon as I’d pushed past the tight barrier and he’d hissed through the burn that I wasn’t going to last long. I reached around and tugged at his balls, getting a satisfying groan in response.
“I want you to come first,” I told him.
“Fuck. Pere—”
“Imagine sucking his cock.”
“I—”
“I thought about him fucking you,” I admitted.
“Shit.” He gasped when I pushed in hard, hitting his prostate.
He knew I wasn’t shy about fantasizing threesomes with him in the middle. I knew he liked that sort of thing. Craved it, even. But we’d agreed early on anyone who joined us would have to be the exact right guy. No one had ever been exactly right.
Until now?
I pumped faster. Just thinking about it made me hot and a little frantic. The noises Evan made were going to send me over the edge too soon.
“Come,” I demanded, driving into him.
“Shit, shit… shi-it.” He came hard, his body clenching, his ass gripping, his come spurting hot over my hand on his dick.
That was enough for me. My orgasm slammed through me, tightening every muscle and pumping my release into his body. I lost my breath and for a moment, my vision, as my heart thundered and my breathing all but stopped.
Thank our past, thoughtful selves we had a sturdy kitchen table. I was pretty sure we’d had more sex on it than meals. We both collapsed over it now, panting and huffing, still joined, though I could feel my come sliding out of his hole around my softening cock.
“That was…” He gulped and shrugged. “Get off.”
For a split second, I thought he was mad. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned—then he was kissing me hard, full of tongue and clashing teeth and his hand at the back of my neck, demanding and forceful like he almost never was.
It didn’t immediately ease my mind about him being mad.
Finally, he backed off and peered at me, hand still at the back of my head, the other laid flat on my chest, over my heart.
“Him?” he asked, searching my eyes, all earnest intensity.
I couldn’t lie and pretend I wasn’t just as interested in Channing as he was. If for no other reason than that the man had shown tenderness and command. Kindness and the sort of control that soothed rather than stung.
“Maybe him,” I conceded.
“We still have to beat him today.”
“Fuck my life,” I muttered, and Evan laughed, throwing his head back with the kind of wild, abundant laughter I hadn’t heard come out of him in, I realized, far too long.