Chapter 13 #2
It wasn’t because he was a man. There was something else, and it was pissing me the fuck off because I couldn’t put my finger on it. The feeling followed me into the bed, where I got comfortable against the pillows and listened for him.
I could hear him singing to himself in whatever language he spoke, and I was going to have to ask because I wanted to know more about him. His footsteps tapped gently along the wall, and then he opened the bedroom door all the way and froze.
“Do you need a written invitation?” I asked.
He sighed. “Lights are off.”
Fuck. “Right, uh…on the wall, to your left.”
His fingertips scraped along the drywall, and then there was a little clicking sound. The ceiling fan turned on with a soft whirr, which would get cold later, but right now, it didn’t matter. He shuffled further into the room, then set something on the bed, and I could smell it immediately.
It was rich and warm, and my mouth began to water all over again.
“Are you hungry now, Sparky?”
“Why the fuck do you keep calling me that?” I murmured, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. I liked it. God help me. And if it was some ridiculous reason, I didn’t want him to tell me.
He just snorted, and the bed dipped under his weight as he carefully climbed over the covers and settled beside me, his body between the pillows and the wall. “This shouldn’t be too hot. I’ll put the tray on your lap, okay?”
I straightened my legs, and the heavy weight of a tea tray that couldn’t possibly be mine landed on my thighs.
I explored the edges with my fingers—it was definitely wood and covered in some kind of lacquer.
On it was a plate, and I could feel something like oblong pieces of something bouncy—like meat. And beneath that, rice.
“Fork?”
He pressed something into my hand, and I felt it with my thumb.
“A fucking spoon? I’m not a toddler.”
“It’s rice. Eat it with a spoon,” he ordered.
I shuddered and took a huge scoop and shoved it into my face. I was trying to be obnoxious, but the moment the flavors hit my tongue, all my antagonism melted away. “Holy fuck, why is this so good?”
“Because my mother taught me to cook it,” he said very softly.
I swallowed the bite down thickly, then took another. “Did she die?”
He laughed. “No. She’s in Athens right now with my sister-in-law. Her mother is very sick, and my mom used to be a nurse when we were very little.”
Well, fuck. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Worse things have happened.”
I set the spoon down and picked up one of the meat pieces. “Is it okay to do it like this, or do I need to keep spoon-feeding myself, Sir?”
He cleared his throat. “That’s not what I want.”
I knew he wasn’t talking about the way I was feeding myself, but I sat in silence and waited for him to say literally anything else. And then he did.
“Jonah.”
Fuck, the way my name sounded on his lips and tongue. “Alexio.”
He sighed and leaned in. “Eat. Please.”
Oh shit. He was worried about me. I could hear it so distinctly it was almost painful. I immediately took a bite, and the gnawing ache in my stomach began to ease up a little. I couldn’t help my satisfied sigh as I ate one bite, then two, and then a third.
My head finally began to clear a little. “Are you Greek? Is that what language you were singing in?”
He shifted in the sheets. “Ah. You could hear that?”
“That’s kind of my thing,” I told him. “People think it’s a superpower, but it’s just my brain wired to rely on hearing since I can’t see anything.”
“At all, right?”
I turned my head to face him as I grabbed the spoon and ate another mouthful of rice. “You keep asking me that. You really don’t know?”
“No, and every time I asked, you mocked me for it.”
“Sorry,” I said, not sure if I meant it or not.
Using the hand that hadn’t been all over the meat, I flicked one of my eyes, and I felt him jolt beside me, swearing under his breath.
“Prosthetics,” I told him. “And before you panic and get weird, I was born like this. I mean, with no eyes. Obviously not with fake eyes.”
His sigh trembled. “Obviously.” He swallowed thickly. “And your brother?”
“Micah’s the same. Caleb isn’t. He was born with the same condition, but his eyes are tiny, and he can see a little.
” I had this entire fucking speech memorized.
I sounded like a goddamn after-school special PSA.
“Anyway, can we not talk about that? It’s all anyone ever cares about, and it gets old quickly. ”
I didn’t want to tell him that I’d spent my entire childhood forced to talk to internet strangers about the way I lived.
He was quiet again, and I wondered if maybe I offended him, but then he reached past me and snagged something off the plate.
Probably the meat. It was fucking amazing.
“I was singing in Türkce,” he finally said.
I loved the way that word rolled off his tongue.
“I was born in Cyprus. My mom is from the south, my dad was from the north, but we lived with my dad’s family in Nicosia until we moved to England when I was ten. ”
I wish I’d been better at geography because I was pretty sure north and south Cyprus were significant, but I didn’t ask. “Did you move to England for hockey?”
He laughed very softly. “No. Hockey happened because I went to a camp when I was six, in Finland. It turned out I was good, so my parents kept paying for me to go, and the camp sponsored me. I billeted in Toronto for juniors, but after my dad died, my mom and my brother followed me. Then I got drafted.”
“And they came here?” I asked.
He said nothing.
“Did you nod or shake your head?”
“Fuck. Sorry. I nodded. My brother got married to a friend of the family. She goes back and forth to Athens a lot, and my mom goes with her. I hope you can meet her when she gets back. Both of them.”
He…wanted me to meet his family?
That didn’t mean anything.
It couldn’t. At least, not more than me being friends with Nikos and them helping me take care of my dad. And that was fine. Whatever this was…it was fine.
I sighed and laid my head back. “Thank you for the food.”
“Mm.” He lifted the tray off my legs and set it on the edge of the bed. “Now for sleep.”
I was tired, but I knew it wouldn’t last. The food would settle me for a bit, but it wasn’t going to take the edge off my stress.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured, and then suddenly, he was hovering over me, hands pressed to the headboard, forehead touching mine, his ass resting just above my thighs.
I could feel his bent knees pressing against my hips, bracketing me in.
“But I made you a promise last time we spoke.”
Did he? And oh fuck, I remembered now. Everything he’d said on the bus before he talked me through my orgasm in the bathroom.
“Alexio,” I murmured.
“Be quiet.”
I shuddered out a single exhale and turned my face up. I wanted a kiss. Badly. But I knew it wouldn’t come. He told me I’d have to beg for it, and I wasn’t there yet. He took in a lungful of air, and as he exhaled, his parted lips grazed over my jaw, then down the side of my neck.
He began to lower himself down, his cock brushing along my stomach, then over my rock-hard, raging erection.
“Oh god,” I said, unable to stop the noises from leaving my throat.
He hummed as his teeth skimmed over my hammering pulse. “You want me to fuck you?”
Shit. Shit. I’d done a lot of things. I’d definitely been pegged by girlfriends, so I knew what it was like. Mostly. And I’d like it. But I had never taken a cock up the ass before.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
He froze. “Jonah?”
“Mm.”
“Are you a top? Like…a strict top?” He hesitated, then added, “It’s not a deal-breaker. I just want to know.”
God save me. “I don’t know what I am. I’ve never, ah—you know. Done anything like this before?”
His face was close enough to mine I could feel his fluttering lashes as he blinked rapidly—a bit like butterfly kisses. “What did you and your other boyfriends do?”
“I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
He stiffened. “Fine, partners? Sex friends? Random hookups in dark, dingy club bathrooms?”
I almost laughed. “Yeah, no. That’s…that wouldn’t be a thing, even if I had been into dudes before you, but—”
“Before me.”
“Did you…not know?”
He pulled back, and I wanted to scream because what the fuck was happening? I had just been about to be fucked to sleep, which sounded delicious. My stomach was full, and my stress had eased up a little. So why was he freaking out now?
“Sorry I’m not the perfect bisexual, but—”
He relaxed a fraction. “You’re bi?”
“Yes? Fuck, don’t tell me you’re one of those assholes who think bi isn’t a thing.”
With a laugh, he shook his head against me, burying his face in my neck again. His tongue darted out, and he licked a warm, wet stripe to my ear before biting down on the lobe. It sent pleasure racing through me, making my dick jump in my pants.
“No, Sparky. Nothing like that. I was just afraid for a second that I’d pushed you into something you didn’t want.” He paused, then asked, “Is this your first time with a man?”
“Well, not my first time. You and I have done this before.”
He huffed a breath that ghosted over my face. “That’s not what I mean. Am I your—”
“Yes,” I said, cutting him off. “You’re my first guy.
” My hands flew up, grabbing him by the waist because he sounded genuinely upset.
“Look, I might not have fully realized I was into guys until you pinned me against the lockers, but there are no regrets here. Even when you pissed me the fuck off, I wanted to touch butts.”
He groaned and sank his teeth into my tendon. “Fuck. Okay. So what would you like me to do?”
“We could try the fucking thing.”
“That might be a lot for you.”