11. Drew
11
DREW
I stared at West, my mouth suddenly dry. His hazel eyes met mine, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. God, what was wrong with me? We’d shared a bed countless times before, but last night had felt…different.
“So, uh, breakfast for dinner?” I blurted, breaking the silence. “I was thinking scrambled eggs and bacon. That okay with you?”
West’s brow furrowed slightly, and I worried I’d said something wrong. But then he smiled, that gentle curve of his lips that always made my heart skip.
“Sounds perfect, Drew. Thanks.”
I nodded, probably a bit too enthusiastically. “Great! Great. How’s your leg?” I asked, my eyes dropping to his injured limb.
West shifted, his expression softening. “It’s fine, really.”
I knew that tone. It was his ‘I’m in pain, but I don’t want to burden you’ voice. I’d heard it too many times over the years.
“Right,” I said, not believing him for a second. “Well, let’s get some food in you anyway. Can’t have you wasting away on my watch.”
We fell into our usual rhythm. I cracked eggs while West handled the bacon, his movements stiff but determined. The sizzle of the cooking bacon filled the air, along with the rich aroma of coffee brewing.
“Remember that time in foster care when we tried to make breakfast for everyone?” West asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.
I groaned, recalling the disaster. “How could I forget? We nearly burned down the kitchen.”
“Mrs. Hawkins was livid,” West chuckled, passing me the salt. Our fingers brushed, and I felt that same jolt of electricity I’d been trying to ignore for years.
“Yeah, well, we’ve come a long way since then,” I said, focusing on the eggs to hide the flush creeping up my neck.
We settled at the table, the familiar routine of passing condiments and refilling mugs a comforting dance. West’s leg bumped mine under the table, and I pretended not to notice how my heart raced at the contact.
“This is good,” West said between bites. “You’ve definitely improved since our foster care days.”
I grinned, warmth spreading through my chest at his praise. “Well, I had a good teacher,” I replied, thinking of all the nights West had patiently shown me how to cook when we first got our own place.
As we finished the last bites of our dinner, I stretched and glanced toward the living room.
“Hey, why don’t we move to the couch?” I suggested. “Since we slept all day, I doubt we’ll be tired soon, and it’ll be more comfortable for your leg.”
West’s eyes met mine, a flicker of something I couldn’t quite name passing through them. “Yeah, that sounds good,” he replied, his voice slightly lower than usual. “My leg could use a break.”
I stood, offering him a hand. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you settled.”
As we made our way to the couch, I noticed West leaned into me slightly, his warmth seeping through my shirt. It felt right, having him close like this. Natural.
Once we were seated, I turned to him. “What do you want to do? Watch a movie?”
“Could I read to you?”
I almost lost my voice. “Like…we used to do on lazy Sundays?”
West’s face softened, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I miss doing that with you,” he said softly.
I grabbed the book he’d left on the coffee table weeks ago and opened it. It was a gay romantic-suspense novel written by A. Lawton, one of his favorite authors.
Clearing his throat, he began to read.
West relaxed beside me, his body sinking into the cushions.
I glanced at him, taking in his peaceful expression. God, I’d missed this. Just being with him, no pretenses, no walls. Just us.
As he continued reading, I heard the emotion in his voice, the love between the two characters that was just like the one I tried so hard to keep hidden.
West shifted subtly closer, his thigh pressing against mine. I was still wearing my pajamas and he’d put on a pair of joggers after his shower.
My breath hitched, but I forced myself to pay attention to his words, even as my heart raced. The heat radiating from his body, so achingly close, was way too good.
“West,” I murmured, my voice low and husky.
He paused mid-sentence, glancing up from the book. “Yeah?”
My hand brushed against his, sending electricity coursing through my veins. “I, uh…I’ve always loved your voice,” I said, a slight tremor in my words.
I swallowed hard, hyperaware of every point of contact between us. "The way you do the voices. It’s…um…so soothing."
God, could I sound more awkward? But West chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made my stomach flip.
“West,” I said again, and this time, when our eyes met, I felt the world tilt on its axis.
The air between us crackled with tension, years of unspoken feelings suddenly pushing to the surface. I watched as West’s gaze dropped to my lips, then back up to my eyes, a question burning in their hazel depths.
My heart pounded so hard he had to hear it. I wanted to kiss him—God, how I wanted to—but fear held me back. What if I was reading this all wrong? What if I ruined everything?
West leaned in slightly, his breath warm on my cheek. “Drew,” he whispered, “I…”
I held my breath, caught between hope and terror. This was it—the moment that could change everything.
I couldn’t take it anymore. The tension, the longing, the years of wondering what if all came crashing down in that moment. I closed the infinitesimal gap between us, pressing my lips to West’s with all the pent-up want I had in me.
The world exploded into sensation. West’s lips were soft yet insistent against mine, his stubble scratching deliciously at my skin. I tasted coffee and something uniquely him, and it was intoxicating. My hands found their way to his curls, fingers tangling in the silky strands like I’d dreamed of doing for so long.
West made a small noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and it sent shivers down my spine. His strong hands cupped my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks with a tenderness that made my heart ache.
When we finally broke apart, both panting slightly, I rested my forehead against his. “Wow,” I breathed, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.
West chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Yeah,” he agreed, his eyes sparkling. “Wow is right.”
I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break this bubble of perfection, but I had to know. “How long have you wanted to do that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
West’s expression softened. “Years,” he admitted. “God, Drew, it feels like forever.”
My heart soared. I kissed him again, softer this time but no less passionate. My hands slid down to the hem of his T-shirt, fingers ghosting over the strip of skin exposed there. “Can I…?” I murmured against his lips.
West nodded, lifting his arms to help me pull the shirt over his head. I took a moment to admire the planes of his chest, the definition of his abs. “You’re so beautiful,” I said, tracing a finger along his collarbone.
He blushed, a sight I found utterly charming. “So are you,” he replied, tugging at my shirt. “Your turn?”
I obliged, tossing my shirt aside. I always felt self-conscious over how skinny I was compared to West’s bulging muscles. I was just built differently. But now it didn’t matter because the feeling of skin on skin as West pulled me close was electric.
It wasn’t enough. I needed more, so I straddled him. With my increased height, I took his lips again, this time controlling the kiss and making sure I tasted every single corner of his mouth.
He put his hands on my ass and squeezed. I moaned, my ass clenching under his touch as I imagined what it would be like to have him inside me.
I’d always imagined that, but now? We were on the verge of that being a reality. My cock tented the light fabric of my underwear and pajama bottoms.
With his hands on my hips, he lowered me to sit on his legs.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The only thing that hurts right now, Drew, is my dick. Please rub against me.”
A soft gasp escaped me as West’s hand trailed down my stomach, fingers dipping just below the waistband of my pants. The touch sent shivers through my body, igniting a fire I’d been trying to suppress for far too long.
“Is this okay?” West whispered, his breath hot against my ear.
“God, yes,” I managed, my voice hoarse with desire. “Please, West.”
His nimble fingers made quick work of the waistband, and I lifted my hips to help him slide the pants down until my cock was exposed. I was achingly hard, and being free from clothes didn’t make it any easier when West looked like he was desperate to touch me.
I returned the favor, standing and then kneeling in front of him. My hands trembled as I pushed his joggers down. I palmed him through his boxers, and he let out a low groan that sent heat pooling in my core.
“Drew,” he breathed, capturing my lips in another searing kiss. I wanted to get him naked, but he pulled me back onto his lap.
I slipped my hand beneath the fabric of his boxers, wrapping my fingers around his cock. The weight in my hand felt so right, like coming home after years of wandering. West’s hips bucked involuntarily, and he broke the kiss with a gasp.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing.
I smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Don’t apologize. I want to make you feel good.”
West’s hand found my cock then, and I couldn’t hold back a moan at his touch. We fell into a rhythm, stroking each other with increasing urgency.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said, resting my forehead against his shoulder.
West’s free hand cupped my cheek, tilting my face to meet his gaze. The tenderness in his eyes nearly undid me. “I know,” he said softly.
“All the times I imagined this…” I said before words got stuck in my throat.
He twisted his wrist on the upward movement, his thumb caressing my slit. “Fuck, West.”
“I know, Drew. It’s so good.”
I felt the familiar tightening in my gut. “West, I’m so?—”
“Me too,” he panted.
I nodded, increasing my pace. Our movements became more frantic, breaths mingling as we chased our release. When it hit, it was like a tidal wave of pleasure washing over me. West’s name fell from my lips and I thought I would jump out of my body from how good it was. He muffled his own cry against my neck before his release joined mine between us.
We held each other through the aftershocks, bodies trembling. As our breathing slowly returned to normal, I lifted my head to meet West’s eyes. The love I saw there made my heart swell.
“That was…” I trailed off, unable to find words adequate enough.
West smiled, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It really was.”
“Take me to bed, West.”
The way he looked at me was like he was at peace. He’d reconciled all the doubt in his mind and had found perfection. Or maybe I was projecting because that was what I was feeling.
Either way, our world had changed.
Finally.