Chapter 22
Twenty-two
Tucker
Waking up with Sebastian wrapped around me and my ass sore from the night before is a revelation.
For once, the voices reminding me of my failures are quiet despite telling them to the man breathing softly against my neck.
I feel worthy knowing he’s claimed me, not just by wanting me to stay with him all night, but wanting a real relationship.
A relationship with titles that go beyond let’s keep this between us or we’re just experimenting to see what this is, and he wants the world to know I’m his.
He actually asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend or his partner, like my having a preference mattered to him, because he was planning to use the title.
No one has cared enough about me to even consider if I wanted to be in a relationship with a title before, let alone what that title would be.
I’ve never been good enough for anyone to care.
Giddy butterflies warm me as I stare at the ceiling of his posh bedroom and realize I have my first actual boyfriend.
Not just some straight boy who wanted to have a secret tryst in my truck after a field party, a flirty gay man who wanted a quick hookup, or a guy who saw me as an easy target for his experimentation and nothing more.
I don't know what this will look like, but for once, I’m not worried. I’m excited.
Sebastian stirs, his lashes fluttering against my skin as he blinks his eyes open and rolls his head to look at me. “Morning, sunshine,” he rumbles, voice deep and scratchy with sleep. He kisses my shoulder and yawns, rolling to his back as his morning wood grabs my attention.
“Good morning to you and the Italian Stallion,” I say with a chuckle, reaching down and stroking him. He hums and rolls his hips into my grip before reaching over and doing the same for me.
Oh, I like waking up like this. I let my head fall back as I give into the pleasure of his hand on my hard cock, feeling him swell as we rock into each other’s grips.
It doesn’t take long for us both to lose ourselves with deep groans of pleasure, finding our mutual release with fevered strokes and messy hands as we paint our chests with splashes of cum.
“Holy shit, this is the best way to wake up,” Sebastian says as his white-splattered chest rises and falls with his quick breaths. I swipe the cum off his skin and lick my fingers clean.
“Breakfast of champions,” I tease. I have a thing for his cum now that I’ve had it, and he’s right on the same page, which was a welcome surprise. It’s not often your kinks match up so well with a new partner, especially one new to this side of his sexual identity.
He turns his head, eyes burning with desire as he watches me suck my fingers. “I could watch you do that all day, but I’d rather feed you real food before I have to take you home and go to practice. At least that way I know I’ve taken care of my baby after you’ve been so good to me.”
Ah, there’s the real world creeping into our perfect little bubble of contentment and sex.
I knew it would show up, eventually. I sit up and look for something to clean off with.
Sebastian tosses me his boxers, and I use those to wipe my chest and stomach.
I can shower later if he needs to get going.
I’m clean enough. We showered together last night, playing in the hot spray with the body wash he’s so fond of.
I fingered his ass like he’d fantasized about and helped him discover the pleasures of the prostate.
He returned the favor when he backed me roughly into the tile wall, stroking my cock so hard I whimpered as he called me his good little slut until I exploded between us.
We finally crashed from exhaustion, his head on my shoulder, leg thrown over mine.
I pull on my clothes from last night and follow Sebastian into the kitchen, where he pulls out a carton of eggs, sourdough bread, and a few ingredients that he uses to whip up avocado toast as I figure out how to work his fancy coffee maker.
Of course, it’s not just a regular pot with a filter you put grounds in, so it takes me a bit longer to decipher, but he doesn’t try to micromanage me, and I end up learning how to turn the damn thing on and make us half-decent cups of coffee.
I like mine sweet and light, so I hunt around until I find his sugar and add milk, whereas he just takes milk in his coffee.
It feels so…domestic to be making breakfast together like this after spending the night, without the expected nerves or awkwardness. He’s so easy to be with, never needing me to fill the silence. He lets me relax into the quiet of my head when I need to.
He comes up and wraps his arms around me, setting a plate on the counter in front of us, resting his chin on my shoulder, and nuzzling into my neck.
“You smell like me. That makes you mine,” he says, voice low and possessive at my ear.
“Well, it was my body wash first, so you smell like me,” I counter. “Does that make you mine?”
“I’ve been yours since you caught me on my knees on the dock at sunset and held me together as my world fell apart.
I’ll be yours as long as you’ll have me.
” He squeezes me tightly, not asking for an answer, but getting one from me anyway as I melt back into his hold and turn my face to capture his lips in a kiss that tells a thousand stories with a million words that all say yes, keep me, I’m yours forever.
We eat next to each other, our legs brushing, we’re so close, and when it’s time to go, it feels bittersweet even though it’s not goodbye.
It’s hard to leave simply because this was our first time together.
It was an uninterrupted moment that allowed us to peel back the guarded layers and lay ourselves bare, show our ugly secrets, my literal scars, and accept each other’s most basic truths to say I see you, and I still want you for all that you are without any reservations.
Okay, I’m getting sappy as hell for this man, and I'd better harden the fuck up or he’s going to realize what a pansy I am and run the other way.
My phone pings as we pull out of his neighborhood, drawing my attention.
“I barely get reception at my house. Sometimes it’s a service dead zone,” Sebastian says when the damn thing keeps pinging with notifications like it’s possessed by an electrical demon.
I pull it out of my pocket and open it to find twenty-five unread text messages, fifteen email notifications, a bunch of missed calls, and the social media apps Cami insists I keep on my phone, even though I don’t use them, show hundreds of notifications each.
“What the actual fuck?” I growl, opening the texts and swiping through the text threads from countless old contacts until I find Callum and Cami’s threads.
I click on Cami’s first because I’m not ready to see what Callum has to say this early in the morning.
Her most recent message has my heart in my throat.
Cami: JESUS TUCKER ANSWER YOUR PHONE! This is an emergency!
Reading that sends me swiping through the thread to get to the beginning.
“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asks as I scroll.
“Cami is freaking out about something, and I need to figure out what. She sent me a million texts and called about fifteen times. I have a ton of notifications.” An impending sense of dread has settled over me, a cloud of bad omens stifling me until I’m choking on the buzzing adrenaline that’s surging through my system.
“Whatever it is, we can get through it together,” Sebastian says, placing his hand on my arm as I read the texts.
Cami: You and Sebastian are all over social media. I know you won’t like it, but you look cute.
Cami: Okay, maybe they got more photos than just you hugging in the hallway. They have him looking scary angry as he came out of the dressing room and found you on the ground having a panic attack.
Cami: Oh, shit. Tuck, I’m sorry, they somehow got your name and linked it to Combat Companions.
We’re getting blown up on socials with requests for statements about your relationship with Sebastian.
The comments on our posts have been all over the place.
I’m deleting anything that’s super hateful, but I don’t know what to do about the ones that are about you and Sebastian and not about the work you do.
Do you want me to keep them or delete them?
Cami: I turned off commenting on all our platforms. It’s gotten too crazy. DMs are fucked, too. I turned off message requests.
Those were all from last night into the early hours of the morning. She was up late dealing with this bullshit while I was getting fucked into oblivion by my boyfriend and none the wiser. The messages that started around seven this morning have a more panicked note to them.
Cami: There were people outside the house when I got here to feed the dogs.
They’re looking for you. What the actual fuck?
The vultures have descended, wanting comments.
Who the fuck just shows up at your house looking for you?
I know it’s also where you work, but for fuck’s sake, this is ridiculous.
Cami: They won’t leave. Rowan and Hayden had to ask them to stay in the parking area because they started to wander the property. It’s freaking me out.
Cami: Seriously, Tucker, where the fuck are you? I need you to answer your phone. These reporters are getting pushy and won’t go away. It’s getting scary.
And finally, the most recent message, where she’s basically screaming at me to answer my phone.
“There are posts speculating about us being together on social media after my episode last night, and it’s blown up.
There’s been a ton of comments on the Combat Companions socials, and people are at my house trying to get comments or something.
Cami’s been dealing with all of it,” I explain to Sebastian, who’s anxiously waiting for me to fill him in.
I hit call and wait for it to connect.