Chapter 8 Reid
Reid
Song: Butterflies by Kacey Musgraves
Although making it to my bedroom would probably be easier and faster if we stopped kissing, I can’t bring myself to pull away from him long enough to do that.
It’s been years since I’ve kissed anyone, but I can’t remember ever feeling so free while kissing someone.
I’m not worried about every little move, sound, or expression I make.
I’m letting myself simply be here, be with him. It’s intoxicating.
We bump into practically every surface in our apartment as we move from the couch to my bed.
I won’t be at all surprised if I wake up in the morning with bruised shins, but I don’t care.
Parker doesn’t seem to either. Every time we knock into something, he just laughs into my mouth and keeps kissing me.
It’s fun. I never thought being intimate with someone could be fun.
I always thought of sex as something vulnerable, not something you can laugh during and have that be a good thing.
But every time he laughs, I feel a surge of pleasant warmth.
I love his laugh. I love being the one to make him laugh.
We make it to my door, and I push him into the room playfully, just to hear that laugh again.
He gropes for my sweater and tugs me in after him, stopping when the backs of his knees hit the bed.
His hands land on my hips, pulling me in, and I loop my arms around his neck like it’s a reflex.
Our lips meet briefly, then he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.
“So, um, how do we do this?” he asks, his timidness returning. “Or I guess, how do you want to do this?”
“I was going to ask you the same question,” I say.
“It’s your first time, so whatever you’re comfortable with,” he says.
“It’s your first time too,” I point out.
“I’ve had sex before,” he protests.
“Yes, but not with a man. I think that puts us on equal footing in this case.” I smile and slide my fingers into his hair, pulling in the way I just discovered he loves.
He sighs, and his eyes drift closed as I lean in to press a kiss at the base of his throat. I kiss my way up his neck to his jaw, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.
“So what do you want, sweetheart?” I murmur against his skin. I never thought I’d be a pet name person, but apparently Parker is the exception to a lot of things.
His hands flex on my hips. “I want this to be good for you. I want to take care of you.”
He’s so sweet, so earnest. I almost can’t believe I got so lucky as to have him want me.
“How would you feel about fucking me?” I ask.
His eyes go as wide as saucers. If it weren’t for the way his grip tightens on my hips and his eyes flick down to my lips, I’d worry I said the wrong thing. But there seems to be an undercurrent of desire under his surprise.
“I… don’t think I’ve heard you curse before,” he says.
“It’s easier not to curse in general than it is to remember just not to curse at the library,” I explain.
“Unless you’re asking me to fuck you, apparently,” he mutters, almost to himself. “But back to that. Isn’t that a little—I mean, it’s your first time, I thought—I don’t want to hurt you.”
“That’s what prep and lube are for.”
“But—”
“If you don’t want to, or if you aren’t ready for that, I understand.” I rest my hands on his biceps and squeeze reassuringly. “But if your concern is truly just about hurting me, then you have nothing to worry about. I’m not new to anal penetration.”
“I… how?”
I bite back a grin. “Sweetheart, I may not have had sex with another person before, but I’ve had plenty of sex with myself.”
His cheeks flood with pink, and he drops his forehead to my shoulder with a groan. I try not to, I do, but I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in my chest.
He groans again. “You aren’t laughing at me, are you?”
The humor drains out of me in an instant. “Never. I would never laugh at you. You make me laugh all the time because you make me happy, but it’s never at your expense.”
With a sigh, he wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me tight. “You make me happy, too,” he mumbles into my collarbone.
I brush a kiss to his temple, then he lifts his head. “Okay, can we go back to trying to have sex now before I embarrass myself even further?”
“You haven’t embarrassed yourself. At least, I’m not embarrassed by you,” I assure him.
He huffs, but there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “Still.”
“We can do whatever you want. We don’t have to make a big deal out of this. I know what I like, at least when I’m by myself, and you know what you like. I trust you, and I hope you trust me.”
“I do.”
It makes me smile, how seriously he says it. “Then tell me what you want—not what you think I want or will make me feel good—what you want.”
He seems to think about it for a moment, and his thumbs trace circles on my hipbones as he does. “I think I just want to explore, if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” I lean in and brush our noses together. “That gives me the opportunity to figure out just how many freckles you have.”
He pulls back and gives me an amused look. “My freckles?”
I reach up, slide the glasses off his face, and tuck them into the neck of his sweatshirt. Leaning in again, I brush my lips against his cheekbone where they're the most concentrated. “I’ve had so many daydreams about these freckles.”
“And what were you doing in these daydreams?” he asks, his voice breathy.
“This,” I murmur as I brush more kisses along his cheekbones, earning a pleased hum. “Mapping them with my mouth. Your cheeks, your neck, everywhere.” I brush my lips lower and lower with every word until I reach his collarbone.
He lets out a stifled moan.
My hands go to the hem of his sweatshirt. “May I?”
He nods and plucks the glasses out of the neck of his top before holding up his arms for me to peel the material over his head. I let it drop to the floor, then reach for my own sweater hem.
“Hey,” he says, sounding indignant, and it stops me in my tracks.
Does he not want my shirt off too?
Parker bends to rest his glasses on the edge of the bed, then bats my hands away and replaces them with his own. “You get to undress me, but I don’t get to do the same? That’s unfair.”
I laugh in relief and hold my hands up in surrender. “Go ahead, then.”
He grins in triumph, but it softens as he strips me out of my sweater with what I’m tempted to call reverence. Next, he reaches for the waist of my sweatpants, but pauses. “Wait, before we get too far into this, do you have condoms in here?”
“I have lube, but no condoms.” Do we need condoms? I thought he said we would just be exploring, which I assumed meant hands only.
“Okay, do you mind if I go get some? Not that I necessarily think we’ll need them, since we’re not, you know, but I want to be prepared in case…” he trails off and sighs. “Sorry, I’m overthinking things and ruining the mood.”
I shake my head, and lean in to kiss him. “You aren’t ruining anything, and stop apologizing for your brain. I like your brain.” I grab his face and angle his head down so I can kiss his forehead. “Overthinking and all.”
He stares at me for a long moment with an expression on his face that I can’t quite read.
I would maybe guess he’s overwhelmed, but I’ve seen that look, and this isn’t it.
Not completely. But before I can figure it out, or ask what he’s thinking, he kisses me.
One hand presses into my lower back, hauling me against his chest, while the other threads into my hair, angling my head back so he can deepen the kiss.
I wrap my arms around his neck as my mouth opens under his.
I don’t know where this kiss came from, but I don’t care.
A moan bubbles up from my chest as his tongue flicks into my mouth, and he answers with a groan of his own.
Our tongues dance for a few seconds before Reid softens the kiss and pulls away.
“What was that for?” I ask, panting.
He shakes his head a little and rests our foreheads together. “I really like you.”
“I really like you too,” I say even though I’m still a bit confused about the progression of events.
But it’s true. I really, really like him.
Part of me worries I might like him a little too much, but if he’s kissing me like that in response to me simply saying that I like his brain, then maybe I don’t need to worry about it.
“Oh, also,” I say, remembering where my train of thought was going before he kissed the hell out of me. “For the record, I don’t think wanting to practice safe sex is overthinking. Safety is sexy.”
His hand slides down from my hair to my waist, and he leans back, eyes roaming over my bare chest. “You’re sexy.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Go get condoms. I’ll get on the bed and wait for you to come back.”
He nods and kisses me quickly. “Okay.” Another kiss. “Don’t get started without me,” he teases.
I watch as he leaves the room, admiring the scattering of freckles across his shoulders and back. God, I can’t wait to explore those with my lips.
His glasses are still on the edge of the bed, so I scoop them up and walk to my nightstand to put them there for safety.
I look at the bed, wondering if I should peel the covers down so we don’t get anything on the duvet.
Then again, it’s much easier to swap out the duvet for a quilt than to change the sheets.
I should have told him to grab a towel. With a sigh, I grab the duvet and pull it down to the end of the bed.
I can just change the sheets. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway.