Chapter 15 #2
And after they had both passed, every time I smelled something like it, I got an ache in the pit of my stomach. I rarely wanted to remember them. I wasn’t some beloved miracle baby. I was the late-in-life accident—the oops that changed the way they had to live.
They put me in sports to keep me occupied and rarely came to my games. They were gone by the time I was drafted, and I didn’t want to remember how lonely that felt, so I curated my space to be my own.
There was no nostalgia in my home. It was a little sterile, but it was mine.
“This doesn’t look like you,” Ferris said as he turned in a circle.
The place had come half-furnished. The bed frame came with the house, the mattress was mine. The dresser and armoire were part of the bed frame set, and the art on the walls were generic flower paintings they’d used to stage the house and let me keep.
When I played for New York, I had two bedrooms in a high-rise in Brooklyn that I let my PR manager decorate since she’d been trying to change careers for years. It hadn’t been me either. That was mostly her, but I’d liked it.
I had no passion, though, and no idea who I even was back then, so when I set foot here and I realized that all of the weight of making this place a home was on me, I just…gave up.
Now, I felt strange. Almost embarrassed.
“What would look like me?” I asked. Ferris was at the window now, so I set my cane against the dresser, then walked over and pressed my chest to his back, burying my nose in his neck.
He laughed softly and shrugged. “Earth tones. Browns. Mahogany. What’s that stuff that goes along the bottom of walls?”
“Honey, I have no idea. I have never once decorated my own place.”
He sighed. “I can tell.” Turning in my arms, he let his back fall against the glass, and I pressed into him, kissing him again. It was lush, intense, deeper than I’d ever kissed anyone before. He tasted like a goddamn dream. “I want to be on the bed,” he said when I broke away.
Nodding, I stepped back and took his hands, guiding him toward the center of the room.
My bed was sized perfectly for me to slip in and out without having to struggle with my leg, so Ferris had no problem climbing onto the mattress.
His feet hung over the sides, so I took his shoe off, then toyed with the straps on his boot.
“I can be careful if you want this off for a bit.”
He bit his lip, then shook his head. “I don’t trust myself. I get too fidgety.”
“I can work with that too.” Instead, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head, letting my fingers toy with his pecs, his nipples, then his lower stomach.
His abs jumped under my careful touch. “When I get you naked, I want you to jerk off, okay? Don’t make yourself come.
Just get yourself nice and hard for me.”
He shuddered, nodding as he bit his lip and fell back against the pillows. It took some work to get his sweats all the way off, but I folded them into a haphazard pile with his shirt and set them on the end of the bed before walking to my dresser and opening the top drawer.
A handful of toys and two bottles of lube were staring back at me.
I had the warming kind, but I had a feeling Ferris might not appreciate the sensation that one caused.
The other was the one I used most, the bottle more than half-gone.
I had condoms beside that and then two toys I hadn’t yet used on myself.
“Do vibrations bother you?” I asked softly.
“A little. Um…they’re…I…”
“We’ll skip that one,” I said. The other was just a dildo, similar to the size of my own dick. It was soft latex and rubber, nondescript, a pale flesh color with a few ridges and fat head.
It was weighty against my palm, and I squeezed it absently as I made my way back over to the bed. My heart jumped a little at the sight of him holding himself, stroking root to tip. I could see sweat beading in his hairline, his lips parted on soft gasps.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
He blinked at me. “I think people look strange when they’re getting off.”
I grinned and shrugged. “Maybe. I like it. I like you.”
I could see his cheeks darken, and he bit his lip again, turning his head away from me.
That was my cue to undress. With my unyielding knee, it took almost as long as it had taken me to work with Ferris’s boot, but soon enough, I was beside him, my hand pressing down, running the length of his ribs.
“I’m gonna warm you up with a toy, okay?”
Ferris swallowed heavily. “The dildo?”
“Mhm. But just say the word if you don’t want—”
“I want it,” he said before I even finished speaking. He bit his lip again and looked at me, his eyes bright and determined. “I want to do so much with you.”
Leaning over, I brushed a lock of hair away from his forehead and kissed him. “Yeah?”
“Mm. But…” I held my breath as his brows furrowed, half-distracted by the fact that he was still stroking himself. “Why did you change your mind? You said we had to be professional. Then you sucked my dick. Then you didn’t touch me again for weeks. I’m…confused. And it’s making me anxious.”
Groaning, I dropped my head to his shoulder. “I am so sorry. I knew I was going to fuck this up.”
“No. Just…can you tell me what this all means?” Ferris asked quietly. “Is it okay now? To want you? To kiss you? To do…this?”
Lifting my head, I met his gaze. “Yes. This right here, it’s what I want. I need to be careful at work, but I’m willing to take the risk for you.”
“For how long?” Ferris asked.
I swallowed heavily, then decided that honesty was the only thing that mattered. “For as long as you want to keep me.”
Ferris stared. He blinked. Then he grabbed me by the hair and set his mouth to mine.