Chapter 20
Logan
Tuesday night rolled around, and Gage was coming over for a home date.
I had high hopes for the evening because he’d been giving me a few signals since Saturday of his readiness to become lovers.
It wasn’t just those handsy make-out sessions, either.
We’d been borderline sexting since Sunday night.
Really, really hoping I was reading him right. I’d be so disappointed if I was wrong.
Now, I made a delicious chicken pot pie, and since I had time, that’s what I chose to do. I threw the ingredients together, stuck it in the oven, and set a timer.
Then I cleaned up the kitchen. I’d noticed Gage liked things clean, and I’d definitely scored points with him the other day when he’d come over. I wasn’t a slob in general, so it wasn’t like I’d had to bend over backward to please him.
I’d love to bend over, though.
Gage and I hadn’t talked about the bottom/top details yet, but we’d hit the point where we needed to. I wasn’t sure where he was at emotionally, but I liked him. I wanted us to be in a committed relationship rather badly. I hoped to broach the topic tonight, see if we were on the same page.
I made sure I took a thorough shower and got all spruced up, the house was clean, and the bed especially was all set and ready to rumble.
Lube and condoms in nightstand drawer, check.
Tissues for cleanup, check.
Extra pillow on bed in case he wanted to sleep over, check.
Move Mr. Bear to nightstand for the night, check.
I heard the sound of Gage’s truck pulling into my driveway and smiled.
Man I wanted to sex up, check.
I met him at the door, all smiles. “Hi, handsome.”
“Hi,” Gage greeted, planting a soft, teasing kiss on my mouth. “You have no idea how glad I am you said home date. Interesting things went down at work today.”
“Yeah? Dinner’s going to be ready in about five minutes. Come in, relax, tell me about it.”
Gage dropped into what I thought of as “his” chair at my dining table.
“I’ve got beer and long drinks.”
“Gimme a long.”
I handed him one, and he cracked it open, took a sip, and then visibly relaxed.
“Nothing like something alcoholic in my hand to tell me I’m finally off the clock.”
Amused, I took the seat next to him. “So what happened?”
“I’m not sure if I’ve told you this, but I do inspections for people outside of our own jobs.
Engineering inspections to verify if a beam can bear the load of the roof, things of that nature.
So I went to Saline today for an inspection, but then I get there, and there’s a contractor and the homeowner on-site and I’m like…
what’s this? So I walk up, introduce myself, they tell me this house was suddenly inherited because of an unexpected death, and the new owner is the only living relative.
He’s finally gotten the keys from probate court and wants to renovate the house, then sell it on the market.
All’s fine by me, so we walk, we’re looking at blueprints and realizing there’s been some renovations over the years.
I suspect most of them weren’t permitted, so they’ll have to be undone.
Depending on when they were done, some of them are probably old enough they might be grandfathered in. ”
“Sounds problematic. Is this common?”
“More common than you’d think.” Gage shrugged. “Most of the older houses in Michigan didn’t have any kind of builder’s code, so we run into things like this fairly often.”
I scratched my nose, not expecting his answer. “Why?”
“Well, to recap a full semester I took on the history of building codes—I won’t bore you with the details, I almost failed that class because it put me to sleep—up until 1970, there wasn’t a universal builder’s code in the States.
Different places had codes of a sort, mostly fire codes for a building or something of that ilk.
Nothing universal, though, and it was a real problem.
It’s why in an old building, stairs can be any size.
People weren’t required to get a building permit for a renovation, either, they just grabbed any materials at hand and did their best.” He took a sip of his drink.
“Frankly, if that’s their best, I’m terrified to see their worst.”
“Huh. I’ve learned something new today. So the new owner didn’t take this well?”
“Was not enthused, but as I pointed out, most of these walls he wanted down anyway to open the space up, so it’s not going to hamper him much in the long run. Theeeen it got weird.”
“Eh, weird?”
“So weird. We encountered a room that shouldn’t exist. The crazy thing was, you could almost see into it from outside the house, as it was a basement room with a window, but there was this thick black curtain blocking the view from the inside.
And I couldn’t find a door into this room.
Like, it was drywalled over. Finally, we were given the go-ahead to punch through a wall, because we had to figure out what was in that room.
I had a sledgehammer and crowbar in the truck, so me and the contractor tore into a wall, and Jesus in the crack house, it was crazy what was behind that wall.
A whole other room was there. A man cave, really, as it had thick plush couches and six arcade games, like the ones you’d see in a bar or game place, really cool retro games.
It was like being in a haunted house, almost? So creepy.”
“Wow, that does sound super creepy.” I tried to imagine it and failed. “Why would someone do that?”
“Even the new owner had no clue, but he was also freaked out. I did take pictures of the arcade games to see if maybe you wanted some for the new bar?”
“Sure, if they’re in decent condition, I’ll take them.”
“Cool. I mentioned to the owner I might know someone who would take them, and he was all too happy to offer them for a small fee, so long as you come get them. I’ll get you two in touch later. Anyway, that was my day. How was yours?”
“Tedious, mostly me paying bills. I did a few hours of admin, then went through a few samples of what Asher emailed me. We’re looking at cabinet design for the upstairs. He’s trying to get a feel for how my new office should look.”
“Ah, yeah, I think he mentioned that in passing.”
“I liked most of what he sent. I was able to narrow things down for him a little, or at least I think I did? I sent him my Pinterest board.”
“Pinterest is Asher’s focus spell, so he probably loved that.”
“My grandmother sat me down with Pinterest before hiring your company, saying a portfolio of what I liked for my bar would help the designer, and I didn’t argue with her because I think she just wanted to play. Turned out she was right, though.”
The timer went off, so I got up and fetched dinner out of the oven.
Gage grabbed plates and handed me one, looking on curiously. “Is that your infamous chicken pot pie?”
“How dare you? It’s not infamous, it’s famous. But yes.”
Gage took his plate back to the table and took a careful bite. Then his lips curled up in an expression of pure pleasure. “Oh. Oh, that’s good.”
I somehow managed to keep my response to a simple “Why, thank you” rather than the innuendo that wanted to come out.
We ate, and I tried to figure out how to bring our relationship status up.
I was more than nervous about saying something in case I was jumping the gun and putting Gage on the spot, which I loathed to do.
On the other hand, I was getting rather desperate to jump him, so it was better to say something now, before resentment could settle in.
“So, Gage. We’ve been dating almost three weeks now. I’d like to go exclusive, but what do you think?”
Gage blinked. “Oh, we doing a DTR?”
“A whatsit?”
“Define the Relationship.”
“Oh! Uh, yes?”
“Thank fuck.” Gage took my free hand in his, eyes carefully examining my face. “I genuinely like you. I would love to be in a relationship with you. One of my goals was to bring it up tonight, so I’m glad you said something.”
A small knot of worry that had been riding around in my chest abruptly released, and now I could draw a proper breath again. So he’d felt the same. A happy sort of heat spread throughout my chest, leaving me giddy in its wake.
I drew his hand up to my lips, pressed a kiss to his knuckles, and thanked the dating gods for finally doing something in my favor. “You’re my boyfriend, then.”
The way this man looked at me, like he was almost giddy with joy, just about put my ego through the roof. I’d never had a man look at me like this, and it did things to me, not going to lie.
“That makes me super happy,” he said in a soft voice, the last word catching.
Gage leaned in and kissed me, a slow kiss that sparked and turned this whole emotional moment into something deeper.
I kissed him back and felt like we needed to have that sex talk right now, because I wanted to do naughty, naughty things with him.
I broke the kiss only to ask, “Is sex on the table tonight?”
“Absolutely on the table. This table, if you’d like.”
“Then tell me what you want, what you’re not comfortable with.”
Unexpectedly, he paused. I’d anticipated him giving me a quick overview of shit before we did some rumbling, but instead, he pulled back, not quite meeting my eyes. What was this hesitation about?
“Logan, you strike me as a top?” A tremor of something, maybe nerves, lingered in his words.
I sensed a problem but had to answer honestly. “Most of the time? But I can be versatile, just depends on my mood. Why?”
“I’ve been a top most of my adult life, but I’ve never been certain if I actually am a top or just not willing to bottom.” Gage’s tongue flicked out, wetting his lips, and his nerves shone clearly now. “I’ve only bottomed twice. Neither experience was fun. Downright miserable and embarrassing.”
Shiiiiit. He was nervous due to bad experiences. He also wasn’t sure how we’d fit together in bed, apparently. He still couldn’t seem to meet my eyes, and his fingers were fidgeting.
Well, me, time to be real with him. The foundation for our sex life depended on how I answered. I started praying for the right words.
“I’m not about to demand something you’re not comfortable with. Like I said, I’m versatile, and I’d be happy to bottom.”
Gage nodded, but for some reason the nerves were still there?
He took a deep breath. “The first incident was with a virgin who didn’t know what he was doing, and the second guy was just an asshole, which is part of the reason why I’m not sure if bottoming is even for me.
I can’t use those past examples as any basis for a decision, in a sense.
I’ve thought about it, and I think I want to try again with someone who knows what they’re doing and will stop if I need them to. Logan, I trust you.”
My head filled with white noise for a second. Was he suggesting what I thought he was suggesting…?
“I’m not sure if I’ll be gung ho, but I want to try bottoming with you.”
Seriously, this man’s courage put me to shame. He’d not had anything but bad experiences, but still, he wanted to put himself in my hands and try it once more? I wasn’t sure I’d have done the same in his shoes.
Determination flooded through me. I would not let him down. He trusted me, which meant I needed to pull out all the stops.
I lifted his face with one hand and leaned in, kissing him gently. Felt him shudder a little. “Thank you. For trusting me. I’ll do my best. If at any point you want to stop or flip things, that’s fine. Need a safe word?”
Gage huffed out a sound, almost a laugh, but his expression was optimistic and almost relieved? His hand found mine, our fingers twining together, and I let him fidget with my fingers as he worked his thoughts out.
“I almost said no, but you know what, a safe word actually holds appeal.”
“All right. Got one in mind?”
“Uh, no?”
“How about apples?”
“Apples works.” Gage tilted his head in question. “Although I’m curious as to why that popped into your head?”
“I love apples. Favorite fruit.”
“Ah-ha. I’ll file that away.”
I stood, eager to start, but with a little trepidation mixed in. I hoped I could provide a better experience so he was at least open to bottoming. But if he was truly a top, he’d be okay but not in love with it, which was fine. I just didn’t want to be the guy to cement that bottoming sucked.
Gage kept his hand in mine as I drew him back to the bedroom. His nerves were visible, but he kept pace with me, not backing down.
When I felt the backs of my legs hit the bed, I stopped, pulled him into my arms, and leaned in for a kiss. I loved kissing this man. He liked kissing, it was obvious in how he kissed me, and the delight filtering through my body at having him pressed close was perfection.
Gage was the one who took the kiss deeper, made it dirty, and I groaned around the tongue in my mouth. Yeah, baby, trust yourself to me. I’ve got you.
We pulled back enough to lose shirts, carelessly tossing them aside.
I opened his pants, got one hand down the front, and gave his dick some attention.
Gage thrust up into my fingers, and I knew he was enjoying himself immensely.
There was something I wanted to see—a testing of the waters, if you would.
I put two fingers in his mouth, let him suck them, get them nice and wet, before I drew them out again.
I kept my eyes on his as I stroked his tight, furled ring.
A delicate tremor went through Gage. I wasn’t going to finger fuck him like this, but I did push one finger up to the knuckle, teasingly, and did a little abortive slide in and out.
A full-body shudder ran through him, his hands gripping my waist so hard it was almost painful. And the sound that came out of him? Pure sex.
Not sure if he liked bottoming, eh?
I’d make my man fly apart, and I couldn’t wait to see him melt into a sated puddle under me.