CHAPTER 34
Murphy
People in healthy relationships give each other space. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. Leaning back in the ratty old recliner in my ice hut, I stare at my fishing line in the freezing water between my feet.
I love being out here. I come every chance I can get in the winter, but I’m anxious to get home already and I’ve only been here for an hour. If I thought I was a goner for Jesse before, I don’t know what to call myself now.
He said he was going Christmas shopping, and that I wasn’t invited. I told him not to worry about buying me anything this year, that I already received more than I could ever ask for. The mischievous glint in his eyes, however, told me my request will be ignored. Bradley was right—he is a little shit.
Snickering, I shake my head and bob my pole up and down. I’m still getting used to the fact that life will always be fun now that Jesse’s in it, permanently.
After another half hour passes, it’s taking everything in me to keep my ass planted in this chair. The coffee I brought probably isn’t helping, giving me a kick of caffeine. I need it most mornings lately, after staying up until all hours, laughing, and being ridiculous with Jesse.
There’s a sound of crunching snow outside. I listen, trying to determine what kind of animal is lurking nearby. The door handle to my hut turns, giving me my answer. It’s a Jesse-shaped animal, beaming from ear to ear.
He hoists up a plate that looks like it’s full of homemades. “Brought you some cookies.”
“You walked all the way out here to bring me cookies?” My hut is at least two acres deep into the woods behind my house, not accessible by driving.
Setting the plate down on one of the makeshift shelves on the wall, he peels off his gloves. “No. I have a surprise. The cookies are just a bonus.”
I’m about to interrogate him when he unzips his winter coat. I see skin. Bare skin. It’s thirty degrees outside. How is he not wearing a shirt? Smiling anxiously, he shrugs out of his coat, revealing one article of clothing, if you could call it that.
“Is that my harness?”
Shrugging, he smirks and starts on the button of his winter overall pants. “You weren’t using it.”
My blood warms with each centimeter he lowers the zipper. That… looks like a jockstrap.
Yup. Definitely a jockstrap.
Swallowing, I watch as he unfastens the sides of his overall legs. They crumple to the floor at his feet, leaving him in only his winter boots, the jock, and my harness. It is now my favorite ensemble.
Clearing my throat, I realize I’m gawking. “Well, this is a nice surprise.”
Smiling, he takes my fishing pole from my hand and props it on the bench along the wall, using the handle of my ice auger to hold it down. Tromping forward, he closes the foot between us and tucks his knees next to my thighs in the chair, straddling my lap.
“Yeah? I was hoping you’d think so.”
Shaking my head, I run my hands up the smooth skin of his sides. There’s gooseflesh under my touch. “Not that I don’t appreciate the surprise, but what am I supposed to do now that you’ve got me all hard? Eat my feelings?” I nod toward the cookies. “It’s a bit too cold and cramped in here for anything else.”
“Nonsense. I can help you with that, too.” He goes to town on the buttons of my flannel and doesn’t stop when he gets to the fly of my overall pants. “We can’t go to either of our houses. Your Mom is off work for Christmas vacation, and the stupid electrician finally decided to show up and do the wiring on my hot tub building.”
“He did? That’s good news. Maybe we’ll be able to get it hooked up before Christmas.”
“Yeah. Probably.” He shrugs like he wasn’t always jabbering on and on about it mere months ago. “But I don’t want to wait any longer.”
Snorting, I watch dumbly as he reaches in my overalls and tugs my sweatpants and boxers down. His freaking hands are so damn cold; I hate to tell him that this probably isn’t going to be as enjoyable as he thinks.
“You won’t have to wait if the electrician is finally there now,” I point out, tracing the line of his spine. “I’ll help you get the tub set up as soon as he’s done.”
His hands still and he blinks at me. “No. I meant, I don’t want to wait any longer to have you.”
“To have me? You already have me. I thought we established that at Thanksgiving,” I tease, rubbing his jaw with my knuckles. “Or did you mean the electrician put the kibosh on your fisting plans? Because I’m sure we could be quiet enough inside your house that he won’t hear us in your bedroom.”
Licking his lips, he grips the lapels of my shirt. “No. I mean, I don’t want to wait any longer to have you.” When I can’t formulate words, he adds, “Inside me. I want you, Murph. I’m ready.”
He marched all the way out here so he could…
Damn. Now I really am surprised.
The last few weeks have been different. Before, our intimacy felt like a race to a finish line, as though we were each operating on borrowed time. Now, even the most innocent moments are like a marathon, savoring and full of appreciation. I’ve noticed a heightening in his sensuality, the way he touches me, the way he responds to me.
This ‘surprise’ explains why he guided my hand to the place in between his cheeks last week, though. The memory of his groans when he pushed back onto my finger has me going hard, despite the chill in the hut. I haven’t even entertained the idea of going further, especially not after that argument we had the day I ‘love bombed’ him and he offered himself up as sex tribute. I didn’t want him to think I need that from him to be happy.
I think both of us are determined to make sure what we have isn’t all about the physical. He even insisted on implementing No-Touching Tuesday. Granted, I often have to remind both him and myself when it’s No-Touching Tuesday, but it certainly reinforces our emotional bond. Needless to say, however, Wednesday mornings are off the damn charts.
I can see the hopefulness in his eyes as he waits for my reaction. He’s clearly been thinking about this for a while. I won’t make the mistake of dismissing him this time.
“Jesse, I’m flattered, but I don’t have any lube. I don’t want your first time to be difficult.”
“Don’t worry,” he assures me, kissing my neck. “I took care of it. I pre-gamed.”
‘Pre-gamed?’ What in Jesse-language does that mean?
Skirting my hand down the curve of his ass, I graze the edge of his seam. It’s slick, but it doesn’t feel like lube.
“Why are you… greasy?”
“I ran out of lube.”
“What did you use?”
Groaning, he straightens up. “Don’t worry about it. Geez! You’re killing the romance here.”
I want to laugh. We’re in an ice hut, and he’s throwing out words like pre-gaming. I’m curious about his idea of romance, but he looks too serious right now to tease.
I drag him to my mouth and kiss him like it’s a thousand thank yous for the gift he’s offering me. This time, it’s being offered for the right reasons, for beautiful reasons. How on earth did I get so lucky to call him mine? I didn’t know it was possible to fall more in love with him than I already was. He’s so damn brave. I’m in awe of how he’s dove into loving me without looking back. He makes it seem effortless and, frankly I don’t think there will ever be a bigger compliment given to me in all my life.
Panting, he rolls his hips into mine. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of kissing each other?” he asks, teasing the head of my cock with his thumb.
“No. Never.”
Rising, he reaches behind himself, slipping my cock underneath him. When he settles back down so I’m nestled in his cleft, I get the full effect of his mystery substance.
Definitely greasy.
I can’t help it. I’m too curious, and his prep timeline isn’t adding up. That cookie plate looks a lot like my mom’s.
“Did you stop at my house on your way out here?”
“Yeah. Your mom said she had cookies for us. She’s way nicer to me now that we’re dating. I mean, she’s always been nice to me, but now I get extra special treatment,” he chatters, shoving up my undershirt and kissing my chest as the movement of his hips lubricates my shaft. “I, uh, might have eaten a few on the way to the hut.”
The puff of laughter I let out isn’t over Jesse’s lack of cookie craving control. He was in my house, pre-gaming it. My heart overflows, knowing he was so determined to give himself to me that he had no regard for his surroundings.
“Did she see you get my harness?”
“No. She left to go visit the McCutchens.”
At least, there’s that. I’ll assume he kept his coat on. Watching episodes of Breathless with Mom is one thing. Having her see Jesse in a jock and a harness is entirely another.
Tracing my hand up his spine, I revel in the feel of each pass my tip makes over his pucker. I can’t believe he’s doing this for me, that he wants it, that he’s practically begging for it. I’ll never get over the fact that he wants me back. He is my goddamn soul, I swear. I’m convinced I was put on this earth just to meet him, to love him. It might be frigid out, but it’s all heat between us now.
I can’t believe we’re here; here, as in this momentous occasion. It’s been six months since I last topped, but that guy wasn’t Jesse. He was just another man who was scratching an itch like I was. I’m nervous. He’s got his hopes so high, I’ll hate to see if he’s disappointed with the experience.
Straightening abruptly, his hands still on my sides. “Your mom’s done baking her Christmas cookies for the year, right?”
The apprehension in that odd question coupled by the feel of the greasy crease my cock is currently nuzzled into has me pinching my eyes closed and biting my cheek. You know it’s true love when you can decipher someone’s fuckery. He must have pre-gamed in my room after she left the house. I can only pray that he put her Crisco back in the kitchen unscathed.
“Let’s hope so,” I concur.
I lean in for more kisses now that his moral dilemma seems forgotten, but he stops me. “Murph?”
“Yeah?”
Now, what’s wrong? Why is he looking at me like he broke something?
“I want this. Really, I do.”
And just like that, he surprises me again, my heart clenching. Brushing my thumb under the shell of his lower lip, I hope he can see my sincerity.
“It would be fine if you didn’t. You know that, right?”
“I know. That’s why I want it. You’re… just the perfect person. For me. The only person. You always have been. And we’re lucky, you know? We got to be best friends our entire lives, and now we get to love each other forever. So, it’s kind of stupid that I was afraid. How can you be afraid of something when you love someone as much as I love you?”
Have I always been a crier? Wrapping my arms around him, I squeeze tight, grateful I never have to do without him. It’s terrifying when life gives you everything you ever wanted.
“And, I mean, I’ve had my dick in you dozens of times now,” he continues, “and mine’s a little bit bigger than yours, and you’re fine, so… Yours should probably fit. Right?”
Fucking Jesse.
Leaning back, I nod. You can’t argue with that logic, really. And if it makes him less anxious, so be it.
“Yeah. Definitely.”
Smiling, he lets out a little breath of relief, like he’s got the final reassurance he needed.
“Okay.” He nods, rising.
Maneuvering me, he brings my tip to his hole. Eyes fixed on mine, I’ve never seen him look so focused. I hope I remember every detail of this day until I die. He’s so damn gorgeous. When his lips press together, I know he’s pushing out against me like I explained to him last week.
His silky insides greet me as I slip through his ring. Fuck. The pressure already.
I don’t dare move a muscle, though, or make a sound. I’m too busy gauging his facial expressions.
Brows knitting, that knowing look of confusion washes over his face. I wait; wait for his tension to ease, for the burn to fade into sweet relief, but his features morph into discomfort as he tries to take more of me in.
His eyes slam shut. His fingers dig into my shoulders.
“Oh, God,” he lets out in an unholy pitch. “I was wrong! You’re bigger. Way bigger!”
Fuck. He’s not comfortable.
“Jesse, stop,” I warn, clutching his hips tighter. “We don’t have to.”
His nostrils flare and his throat undulates like he’s meditating. “No. I can do it,” he grits, shaking his head. “Just… think small, okay?”
“What? Like will my dick to be smaller?”
“Yeah. You love me, don’t you?” His rationale comes out half panicky, half determined.
Holy shit. He’s serious.
I’m not about to tell him I can’t magically change the girth of my dick, but it’s obvious his stubborn ass isn’t going to give up. Literally. I can do one thing, though.
Lunging for his mouth, I invade it with deep sweeps of my tongue. I dig into his silly jockstrap and find what else I can distract him with, wrapping my hand around him.
Kissing and stroking him, I don’t let up. His whimpers of hesitation soon turn to moans, and his body relaxes around me.
Pretty soon, I’m moaning along with him. His heat is slowly engulfing me, sheathing me little by little. It’s breathtaking and profound in ways I’ve never equated to sex. I have my person.
His cheeks touch down on the tops of my thighs, his cool skin kissing mine.
I feel owned, body and soul. I have to blink to make sure this is real.
Jaw slack, Jesse looks frozen in time with his eyes closed like that. His heavy breaths hit my face as he absorbs the sensations of me filling him completely. He looks like he’s just hit a high and is floating on the euphoria. Nothing has ever been so captivating a sight.
His eyes flutter open, finding mine, and his mouth ticks up at the corners. “Thank you. See? I told you, you could do it.”
Is he still talking about willing my dick to be smaller? Oh, Jesse. Sweet, sweet, silly Jesse.
Fine. We’ll go with that for now. I’ll praise him later and let him know it was all him.
“No problem,” I pant, trying to keep from shifting my hips under his pressure. “Are you alright?”
“Y-eah,” he stammers unconvincingly. “It’s… a lot, but I think I’m okay.” His fingers cup my face, trembling. “Can you kiss me again?”
“Happily. Anything.”
He didn’t ask, but I know what it’s like, so I start working his cock again while our lips tangle. His hips start rocking in minuscule shifts. I’m freaking dying, doing everything I can to hold back.
A gasp floods out of his lungs on a bolder movement of his hips. Eyes wide, he looks at me like he just discovered some life-changing secret. I assume the world shifted for him because he dives back into our kiss with more vigor and starts riding me.
It is absurd how deliriously perfect this is. His channel, a tight, hot cuff around me, squeezing me in languid strokes of his body is more sensual with each passing moment. I silently curse myself for every time I tried to talk myself out of falling for him.
He sounds like he’s dying or being exorcized. If it was a noise in the forest, I’d be terrified, but coming from Jesse riding my cock, it’s erotica overload.
“Muuurph. Uhhh!”
Holy fuck. He sounds like a damn demon.
“Fucking hell, Jesse.”
Leaning back, he arches, testing a new angle. It grinds him tighter against me on each downward thrust. I have zero complaints.
He’s getting so into it, though, I have visions of him toppling off my lap and into the ice hole. I grip his harness, giving him gentle tugs with each movement. It only makes him noisier as his hooded eyes watch me using the harness like sex handlebars. Shit. Our potentially filthy bedroom future just flashed before my eyes.
Releasing his grip on my knees, his elbow bashes into something. We both flinch at the clatter, and then a sploosh sound.
A sploosh.
Why was there a sploosh?
Ah, shit.
“I’m sorry! I’ll buy you a new pole.”
I don’t get to argue. His mouth covers mine again. His arms wrap around my neck. That was my grandpa’s pole. If I had to lose it because of Jesse’s need to further consummate our love, then so be it.
He’s such a wonder, honestly. Vulnerable, and yet fearless. Sophomoric, but full of heart. Incredibly sweet, but—
“Come,” he demands in his sex-demon voice. “Sea-Monkey me. I want to feel it.”
Filthy. I guess the end of that last thought is filthy.
“You want to mess up my hut. That’s why you came out here. Isn’t it?” I tease, bucking up into him.
“Uhn. I don’t care. I’ll build you a new one.”
I nip at his collarbone and knead his sexy ass. “Don’t you dare. I’m keeping this one forever now, so every time I’m out here, I’ll think of you like this.”
His groan rattles my eardrum just as a spasm grips my cock. He’s ruined his plan of coming last, but I don’t disappoint him. It’s easy to catch up. I couldn’t hold out any longer if I tried. A bolt of heat washes up my legs, through my groin, and charges into him.
“Tell me,” he wheezes, convulsing in my arms. “Tell me again.”
I can feel a delirious smile on my face even as I tremble and twitch. He does this every time he comes now, and it’ll never get old.
“I love you.” Placing sloppy, sated kisses all over his face, I repeat it around his dopey smile. “I love you.”
Collapsing onto my chest, he makes a sound of pure contentment, and mumbles my favorite part of what’s becoming a ritual. “Good. Because I love you, back.”
We just sit, breathing, sighing, slowly becoming more boneless until the chill starts to settle in. When he shivers in my arms, I grab my coat and drape it over his back.
“Thanks.”
“Yeah. It’s not exactly harness weather.”
Snickering, he circles his finger through my chest hair. “I was making a fashion statement.”
“Was it everything you hoped it would be?”
Lifting his head, he gives me a thoughtful smile. “Yeah. More, actually. A lot more. Fishy,” he adds, his nose twitching, “but wonderful.”
“Yeah,” I agree because I know there aren’t adequate words to describe all the tenderness in my heart at the moment.
“Um, I’m really sorry about your fishing pole, though. I didn’t even know I was that flexible.”
“It’s alright.” I give him a squeeze with my arms. “Think I caught a good one without it.”
Chuckling, he grabs my face and plants one of his playful kisses on my lips. “Yeah, you did. Are you going to take me home and mount me on your wall?”
Oh, Jesse.
Jesse. Jesse. Jesse.