Chapter 2
“Why are you doing this?” I ask Coop as we meander toward our hotel. I’ve had two beers and he’s had three martinis so we’re not sloshed, but I’m feeling slightly buzzed. A little loose-lipped. A little less reserved than normal. I know I’m not myself because I keep thinking about Cooper naked and sprayed with cum. I really can’t get it out of my head.
“I know you can afford to have this all resolved with a snap of your fingers. Why draw it out? Really, tell me the truth.”
Coop rolls his lips between his teeth and slides his arm through mine. The touch burns through me, settling somewhere in my chest. And if I’m being honest, somewhere in my dick too. But that’s just the alcohol talking. I’m sure of it.
“You’re too much fun, Matthew.”
“I am not.”
“You are. I think we had a lot of fun on our wedding night. It’s too bad we can’t remember any of it.”
“Yeah, it’s too bad,” I say, even though maybe it’s a good thing I can’t remember. With the amount of cum the two of us were wearing, I’m not sure remembering what went down would be the best thing for my mental health.
Coop runs a hand through his hair and smiles at me, more like a saucy grin. “It really is. I’m thinking sex with you was wild. I think we went crazy.”
“We didn’t have sex,” I grumble, and Coop lets out a small laugh.
“Oh, but we did something.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re getting me off-topic. What matters is that I want a divorce now. Whatever you’re doing to me is extortion. You keeping me strung along like this has to be illegal, Cooper.”
“Oh, don’t call me by my full name. Gets me all hot and bothered,” he growls and then shoves into me, making me stumble to the side. I knock into a wall and Coop falls into me, his face smooshed into my chest. My hands move to his hips, steadying him. And instead of pushing him away, I pull him up against me. Just an alcohol-induced reaction, I’m sure.
He grunts as our bodies meet, and I can feel his half-hard cock pressed up against my groin.
He sighs and arches his hips forward slightly. “Mm, just ignore my dick. It’s been a while since I’ve been manhandled by a hot guy.”
I try to ignore it, the feeling of someone being turned on by me, but I can’t quite manage. I’m just flattered.
“I’m not handling you. You shoved me.”
“I just tripped when you called me Cooper,” he grins up at me and then places both hands on my chest, pushing away from me slightly. “Really, rein that name in, mister. Only men who fuck me in the ass can call me that.”
My fingers flex into his sides as I imagine it—his ass up, a cock disappearing inside of him.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I get all sentimental when I’m getting it on. I bet you called me that last night. Cooper. Cooooooper.”
“Shut up,” I murmur and then knock him gently with my fist. I could take him if I wanted to. I’m much stronger than he is, a bit taller, and definitely more muscular. I didn’t grow up with three brothers and learn nothing about using someone’s weaknesses against them. Although Magnus doesn’t count in this scenario. He never was able to get one up on me, mainly because he was so much smaller and was never the aggressor. He just had a sassy mouth when he needed to use it. But Mitch and Max put me in countless headlocks, and I spent my teen years wrestling with them around the house.
I could totally put Coop on his knees while he’s not paying attention. Mess up his hair, slap his ass.
No. No slapping men’s asses. Especially not his.
“Oh, big tough guy. Knocking around a gay kid.”
“You’re not a kid,” I retort and then knock him again, making him stumble to his right. “And you’re so dramatic. I’m barely touching you.”
“You are assaulting me,” Coop replies with a laugh and then barrels into me, his arms wrapping around my midsection and knocking me back against the wall once more.
I push forward and lean down, my shoulder hitting his stomach and lifting him up. He squeals loudly, and I let out a laugh as I heft him in my arms. He’s over me like a sack of potatoes.
“Put me down!” Coop says with a laugh. “This is indecent.”
“You’re indecent,” I mutter, smacking his ass roughly with my palm. Hm, seems I slapped his ass anyways.
I try not to think about how it jiggled under my palm either.
I will not think those things about him.
A gasp escapes him from the hit, and he wiggles in my arms, trying to escape, but it’s all in vain. He can’t now that I have a handle on him.
“I swear, Matthew. Do not make me scream.”
“Scream all you want. You married me. This is your life now.”
Coop protests as I stride forward. He’s heavier than I thought, stronger too. But even so, I manage to make it to the hotel lobby before finally setting him down. His face is red, his hair in disarray. He looks positively wrecked.
Probably how he looked last night, I think before pushing that thought aside.
“I’m divorcing you this instant,” he huffs, and my eyebrows rise in surprise.
“That’s all it took? Me carrying you around like a starch?”
He purses his lips and nods before shaking his head. “Actually, no, you’re right. I changed my mind. I think I’ll get you back by being your insufferable husband for all eternity.”
“Oh, fuck no,” I murmur with a laugh, but he’s already striding away toward the hotel bar. “Hey! Where are you going? We just finished drinking.”
“I need a cocktail. Another one, to put up with you.”
“No more drinks,” I say, sliding up next to him at the bar. He’s waving the bartender over, and I shake my head at the man.
“No more drinks for him,” I tell the bartender who looks conflicted on what to do. Probably hates his life right now and we’re only making it worse. “Really. No drinks. He’s had enough.”
“You can’t tell me what to do. If I want a drink, I’ll have a drink. You’re my husband, not my father.”
“Well, since you’re playing the husband card, and we’re technically still married, I do have a say.”
He gasps, his nostrils flaring. “Good fuck, you’re an evil genius.”
“Sometimes,” I reply, and he pokes me.
“Fine, no drink. You win this round, but I promise, I’ll get you back.”
“Yeah, alright, Coop. You’re buzzed enough. Let’s go sit outside for a bit and relax. Breathe in some fresh air.”
“It would be more fun to sit outside and breathe in fresh air with another drink.”
“Maybe after you’ve calmed down a little.”
“Fine, well then, scratch the lounging outside. I want a bath. A hot one with lots of bubbles.”
My eyebrows fly up at the unexpected turn of events. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.”
“I want,” he says with a nod and walks toward the shop in the lobby. It has all sorts of things that people in Vegas would need. Chocolate, hydration drinks, cigarettes, and of course an entire shelf of bubble bath.
Who fucking knows why that’s being sold here. Personally, I haven’t had a bath since I was a kid.
Real men don’t do that.
Or at least that’s what my dad says.
Baths are for sissies.
“Oh, smell this,” Coop says, pressing a bath bomb under my nose. I can’t help but inhale and it smells floral, like a garden in the spring. “I love gardenia. Oh, and honeysuckle is to die for,” he says, picking up a glass vessel filled with some kind of liquid and twirling around gleefully. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and I’m slightly jealous that he is free to like these kinds of things. That he doesn’t have a voice in his head telling him not to like it, that he can’t possibly want it.
Lucky fucker, I think as I follow him to the cashier and watch as he purchases an obscene amount of soap. By the time we leave, I’m convinced he’s going to float away on a cloud of bubbles as soon as any of that shit hits the water. I’m sure of it.
“You can’t possibly expect to use all of this tonight.”
He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Watch me. I’m a rule breaker.”
I can’t help the grin that pulls my lips up as I carry the bags up to the room. I’m glad we decided to leave tomorrow morning to skip the Sunday traffic. I already called out of work and have a sub filling in for me. Coop…well, I don’t even know if he works. But he seems unbothered by the fact that he’ll be gone on a Monday.
He doesn’t have a care in the world.
Case in point. He’s currently stripping down to nothing while the bathtub fills up.
“Next time, we’re getting a suite and not one in this lame hotel,” he tells me as my eyes swivel to the wall so as not to stare at his ass. It’s hard to do when it’s right there and very round.
I’m almost positive my ass is not that nice.
“I didn’t force you to stay with me in this lame hotel room,” I grumble. “I do remember that.”
“I know, but you looked so pathetic the other day and kept insisting on paying for half, so I compromised.” He grins and pulls his socks off. “I’m such a good spouse.”
I pick his clothes up off the floor, once more avoiding looking at his bare ass as he saunters into the bathroom. His happy hums ping off the tiled walls, and I hear him muttering to himself. Something very much not English.
“Do you speak Italian?” I call from my place outside the bathroom.
“Why yes I do. My family is from Italy. I was born here, but Italian is the only way I communicate with my grandmother and cousins back in the motherland.”
I huff a laugh. Of course he speaks two languages. “Any other languages you speak?”
“Nope. I’m just bilingual. What about you, husband dear? Any other secrets I should know about you?”
“Besides the ones you already dug up?”
I peer inside the bathroom and see that he’s neck-deep in blue bubbles, and it smells strongly like honey and some kind of flower. It seems nice.
Real nice and relaxing.
His gaze swivels over to me, and I toss his underwear at his head. It sits on his face for a second before he swipes it away.
“I don’t have any secrets, underwear head,” I reply, and Coop chuckles under his breath.
“Good one. You want to tell me more about the debt you’re in?”
My eyes narrow at him. “Not everyone has money for shit. Like living.”
“And yet here I am, a generous man, giving you a way out. Out of debt and eventually out of this marriage.”
“What a saint,” I say with a snort as I sit on the counter and watch as he leans back, looking really relaxed.
Maybe I should take a bath every once in a while. Maybe it will help with my stress levels. Wonder if I can use dish soap for the bubbles because I sure as hell can’t afford nice soap like this.
“You could join me, you know? We took a shower this morning and you showed me your hard dick. This won’t make you any less straight.”
“No thanks,” I reply as he sighs softly.
“Really, Matthew. There’s plenty of room, and based on the knots in your back, you could use a little stress relief.”
It’s ridiculous how well he can read me.
Suddenly, his eyelids pop open and they meet my gaze, hooded, shimmering.
I swallow, feeling my body hum with need as I shake my head adamantly. “I’m not getting into a tub with you.”
Those golden eyes close, shutting me out. “Your loss.”
And it is. I feel it as I move out of the bathroom and lay on the bed, shifting all around, trying to get comfortable. I hear the splash of water from the bathroom and the little sighs Coop gives and wonder why I didn’t just join him.
Honestly, I can’t get any gayer than being married to a man.
A simple bath with one isn’t a big deal. I’m sure they did this kind of stuff all the time in the olden days. Like the Romans. There were entire bathhouses where naked men hung out together and washed each other’s backs.
It’s no big deal. It’s just some water and a tub.
And bubbles.
By the time I come to terms with joining him, he’s out, smelling like a beehive with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Gah, that is just what I needed. A detox. I feel like a new man.”
“Sure you do,” I murmur, feeling like a tired old man at this point. Now that I’ve been thinking about the knots in my back, they’ve become more prominent. Kind of painful actually. Just big basketballs on my shoulders.
“Scoot over, Matthew. I want to lie down and not move until morning.”
He grabs the TV remote and switches it on. I glance at him and watch as he tosses the wet towel on the ground. His skin is pink and soft as he stretches his arms over his head, showing me the definition in his back. And then he’s crawling onto the bed, pulling the sheets over his legs. Behind him are a plethora of pillows…every last one, which leaves none for me.
My eyes swivel to the other unused queen bed in the room. I guess I could go sit there while he lounges in his bed. That’s what a normal guy would do. They’d find their own spot and claim it. But for some reason, I can’t move. I can’t fucking do it.
“Stop looking so forlorn. Just come sit with me,” Coop says, shocking me out of my internal turmoil.
He pats his lap, and I scoff, turning and moving into the bathroom. Stripping off my clothes, I turn on the shower and step inside, letting the warm water pelt the tight muscles of my back. A bath would have been better, I think, feeling grumpy all of a sudden.
Should have taken a goddamn bath.
I grab the hotel’s generic bar of soap, and as I wash my body, my mind flashes to images of Coop, his pink skin, and his round ass.
My hand comes up and slaps my cheek, hoping to pull myself back to reality. I’m not going to think about him while I’m washing my dick.
Absolutely not.
Rinsing as quickly as I can, I shut the water off, pulling a towel around my waist and walking out into the main room. The TV is paused and Coop is on his phone, doing god knows what.
“I was waiting for you,” he tells me and then pulls the sheets back and pats the mattress.
I fidget with the towel around my waist. “I’m not getting into bed with you.”
He rolls his eyes and nods toward the space beside him.
“Get in here, Matthew. I’m not arguing with you over this.”
With a huff, I grab a pair of boxers and throw them on before ditching the towel and doing as he says. It’s only when I’m under the sheets that I realize he’s still hogging all the pillows.
But it seems he has a solution to that as well.
“Put your head right here.”
He points to his lap, and I snort. “Fuck you. I’m not doing that.”
He just calmly looks at me, waiting patiently, a smirk on his face.
I roll my eyes as I flop over, my head resting against the comforter on top of his thighs.
“Good boy,” he says softly as I move around, trying to get comfortable.
“Do not call me that,” I say with a grumble. I’m not a boy and there’s no way in hell I’m good. But Coop just ignores me like he always does and slips his hand into my hair.
I still, my heart thundering in my chest.
His fingertips massage my scalp gently, and my eyelids flutter, trying to stay open, trying not to succumb.
But fuck, that feels really nice.
When was the last time someone played with my hair?
A low groan escapes my lips and I feel my body heat in embarrassment. The only reason I’m even letting him do this is because I’m desperate. It has to be.
I’m touch-starved.
“What do you want to watch? I’m thinking you’re less of a rom-com guy and more of an action thriller, yes?”
My eyes pop open, and I shrug, thankful that he didn’t bring up the moan I just made. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Hm, okay, so what I’m hearing you say is that I get to pick. Oh, the power I yield.”
He flicks through a few films and settles on a steamy romance movie which I find myself watching far too much of. Doesn’t help that his hand never leaves me, moving from my scalp, to behind my ears and down my neck. My entire body is thrumming with pleasure and my dick is hard.
Probably from the scenes on the TV. It has nothing to do with the fact that Coop is touching me.
Not at all.
“You picked the smuttiest thing you could find, didn’t you?” I say, my voice unusually low. I reach between my legs and press on my cock, willing it to go down, but it doesn’t work. It’s up for the count.
“I mean, I did want to make you squirm, but I didn’t realize it would be this graphic. God, I’ve never seen so many boobs in my life.”
I huff a laugh right before biting my lip to hold in a moan. Damn, when he massages those pressure points behind my ear it makes me…well, it makes me all tingly.
“Ever wonder what it’s like for the actors to film these scenes in front of an entire crew?”
“No, but it’s probably why they get paid the big bucks.”
“Hm, maybe you should go into porn, Matthew. If you had a site with graphic material, I’d subscribe.”
I tilt my head up and meet his dancing gaze. “I’m not going into porn.”
“Shame. You’d make a killing. You’re a hottie, Matthew.”
He grins and then shifts beneath me. I lift my head slightly, giving him some space. But a minute later, he moves again.
“My leg is falling asleep. Come here,” Coop says, spreading his legs wide open.
When I hesitate, he sighs. “Just come here and let me take care of you. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“Good, because it doesn’t,” I murmur as I crawl between his naked thighs and lean back against his chest.
His body is completely bare against me, his skin warm and sweet-smelling.
“There, that’s better,” he says as he shifts a little more, getting comfortable, and I melt into him. I try like hell not to, but I can’t help it. It’s those magic fingers in my hair again, on my neck, massaging my shoulders.
It’s far more sensual than I planned, being pressed up against him, having him touch me like this. And while a small part of me wants to roll away, the rest of me just leans into it.
What does it even matter?
We’re married and it feels good.
This feels good.
My eyelids flutter shut and my hand slips under the covers, settling right on my hard dick. I give it a squeeze before nuzzling into Coop’s chest.
There’s nothing wrong with doing this just once. Just this once and then never again.
I wake sometime in the night, my chest pressed up against Coop’s, my face tucked into his neck. We shifted slightly, my body now turned into his, one of his hands still in my hair and the other under the waistband of my boxers, above my ass.
And I’m still hard, my boner not having gone down in the least.
I really should move to my own bed. This is concerning, these feelings popping up within me, but I’m too tired, too relaxed. And honestly, who fucking cares what anyone thinks? No one has to know about this.
So I stay, snuggling in further, burrowing myself as close as I can get, and let my eyes slide shut once more.
I can deal with all of this tomorrow.