Chapter 29
Stripped Down Truth
TYLER
Carrying Ethan through the front door of the fraternity house, I'm grateful that everyone is still at the car wash. His arms are locked around my neck, his lips trailing hot kisses along my jaw and throat as I navigate the stairs.
"Missed you so much," he murmurs between kisses, his breath warm against my skin. "Couldn't sleep. Couldn't think."
"Me either," I manage, nearly tripping on the top step when he nips at my earlobe. "Jesus, Ethan. Let me get us to my room before you make me fall."
He laughs against my neck but doesn't stop his exploration. "Can't help it. Need to touch you. Make sure you're real."
The emotion in his voice matches the tight feeling in my chest. Two days ago, I thought I'd lost him forever. Now he's in my arms, still damp from Gavin's impromptu shower, wearing my brother's oversized DPO shirt and looking at me like I'm everything he's ever wanted.
Kicking my bedroom door closed behind us, I set him down gently. For a moment, we just look at each other, both breathing hard, the reality of being alone together again settling over us.
"Hi," which sounds ridiculous given everything that's happened, but words seem tough to find.
"Hi," Ethan replies, a smile spreading across his face. He reaches up to brush wet hair from my forehead, his touch gentle. "You're soaked."
"So are you."
His smile turns mischievous. "Should probably get out of these wet clothes then."
"Definitely," tugging at the hem of his borrowed shirt shows just how much I agree. "For health reasons. Wouldn't want you catching pneumonia."
"Very responsible," he nods seriously, lifting his arms to help me remove the soggy garment.
Pulling it over his head, I reveal inch by inch the lean body I've dreamed about every night we've been apart. His skin is cool and damp, but it warms under my touch as I run my hands down his sides, still not quite believing he's here.
Ethan steps back just enough to survey his appearance with a grimace. "These shorts were not meant to get wet." He tugs at the clinging denim. "I think they've fused to my skin."
A laugh breaks free as I watch him battle with the soaked denim. "Need help?"
"Please," he says, losing the battle to peel the shorts down his thighs.
Dropping to my knees in front of him, I look up with a grin. "This is not how I imagined getting you out of your clothes again."
"No? What did you imagine?" He braces his hands on my shoulders as I work on the stubborn fabric.
"Less denim. More finesse," I admit, tugging harder. The shorts finally give way, sliding down to his ankles with a wet slap. "Victory!"
Ethan steps out of them and kicks them aside, standing before me in just his underwear and, I'd forgotten, the heels.
"Your turn," he says, pulling me to my feet.
When I try to strip off my soaked T-shirt, I get tangled halfway, arms stuck above my head like a toddler who's lost the coordination for dressing themselves. "Little help here?" The fabric muffles my voice.
Ethan's laughter fills the room as he helps free me from the wet cotton prison. "Smooth, Tyler. Very smooth."
"Hey, I'm working under pressure," I defend, finally emerging with ruffled hair. "You standing there looking like that is very distracting."
His expression softens at the compliment. "Like what?"
"Like everything I thought I'd lost," I answer honestly.
The playfulness dims, replaced by a raw vulnerability that steals my breath. Ethan steps closer, his hands finding my waist. "You didn't lose me. I just...got temporarily misplaced."
"Still working on the jeans," I remind him, trying to lighten the moment before I completely fall apart.
Together, we tackle my wet jeans, which prove even more stubborn than Ethan's shorts. I hop awkwardly on one foot, then the other, yanking at the clinging denim until I lose my balance entirely, toppling backward onto the bed with a curse.
Ethan bursts into laughter, the kind that has him doubling over, tears at the corners of his eyes. "Oh my god," he gasps between fits of giggles. "Your face!"
"Shut up," I grumble without heat, kicking the jeans the rest of the way off. "Come here."
Still laughing, he kicks off the boots and crawls onto the bed, straddling me with an ease that suggests he knows exactly where he belongs. His hands frame my face, and his laughter fades into something deeper, more intimate.
"I've missed that sound," my hands run up his thighs.
"What sound?"
"Your laugh. Your real laugh." I reach up to brush damp hair from his eyes. "I was afraid I'd never hear it again."
His expression turns serious. "There's so much I want to say to you. So much we need to talk about."
My head nods, I'm ready to have the conversation we need to have, to process the hurt and misunderstandings that nearly destroyed us. "We should—"
Ethan cuts me off with a kiss, deep and hungry, his body pressing down against mine. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "Sex now. Talking later. Okay?"
Blinking, I'm momentarily surprised by his directness. Then a grin spreads across my face. "I am so okay with that plan."
That's all the confirmation he needs. His mouth crashes back down on mine, urgent and demanding. There's none of the hesitation or gentleness of our first times together. Ethan knows what he wants now, and I'm all too willing to give it to him.
Flipping our positions, I press him into the mattress, my weight anchoring him as we kiss like we're trying to make up for every moment we were apart. His hands are everywhere, threading through my hair, scratching down my back, slipping beneath the waistband of my boxers to grip my ass.
"Off," he commands against my lips, tugging at the fabric. "Everything off. Need to feel you."
Without hesitating, I break away just long enough to pull off the rest of my clothes. Ethan does the same, lifting his hips to push down his underwear before kicking them away. Then we're both naked, skin against skin, and the sensation is so perfect I have to close my eyes for a moment.
"God, I've missed this," Ethan breathes, his hands exploring my chest, my shoulders, my back. "Missed you." My eyes cross when our cocks rub against each other.
Recapturing his mouth, I pour everything I can't yet say into the kiss. He responds with equal fervour, wrapping his legs around my waist, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us.
Being with him again feels so close yet so far away at the same time.
We're touching each other with this new hunger now, like we're scared of losing this again, but also like we know just how special it is.
I take my time exploring him, relearning the sensitive spot behind his ear, the way his breath hitches when I brush his nipples, the particular sound he makes when I use my teeth on his nipple.
"Tyler," he gasps when I trail kisses down his stomach, "I want… need—"
"What do you need?" The question floats up from where breath ghosts over his hips. "Tell me."
His eyes meet mine, his pupils are blown wide with lust. "You. Inside me. Now."
The directness sends heat coursing through me. "Yeah?"
"Yes," he affirms, reaching to the bedside table where he knows I keep supplies. "I've been empty without you. Need you to fill me up again."
His words nearly undo me. I take the lube he offers, coating my fingers liberally. When I press the first one inside him, we both groan, the familiar intimacy overwhelming after our separation.
"More," he demands almost immediately, his hips pushing against my hand.
Adding a second finger, I stretch him carefully while he squirms. "Don't want to hurt you."
"You won't." His hands fist in the sheets, head thrown back as I curl my fingers inside him. "God, Tyler, please. I'm ready."
Part of me wants to draw this out, to tease him until he's begging, but a larger part can't wait any longer. I pull out my fingers, quickly rolling on the condom he's pressed into my hand and coating it with more lube.
When I position myself between his legs, Ethan reaches for me, pulling me down for a kiss that's surprisingly tender amid our urgency. "Face to face," he whispers against my lips. "Want to see you."
As I line up to his hole, I watch his face as I slowly press inside. He hisses when my head pops through his first ring of muscle. The tight heat of him enveloping me inch by glorious fucking inch. His eyes flutter closed, lips parting on a soft moan as I fill him.
"Ethan," I breathe, stilling once I'm fully seated, overwhelmed by the physical sensation and the knowledge that we found our way back to each other against all odds. "Open your eyes. Look at me."
He does, his gaze meeting mine with such raw emotion that it catches in my throat. "Tyler," he says simply, and somehow my name has never sounded more significant.
Beginning to move, my slow, deep thrusts have us both gasping. Ethan's legs wrap around my waist, his ankles locking at the small of my back, pulling me in deeper with each stroke.
"Missed this," he pants, his hands gripping my shoulders. "Missed you inside me. Nobody feels like you do."
The words spur me on, my pace increasing, my hips snapping forward with more force. "Nobody ever felt like you," I respond, voice strained as I fight to maintain control. "So perfect. So tight around me."
"Yes," he moans, lifting his hips to meet each thrust. "Harder, Tyler. Want to feel you tomorrow."
I do what he wants, pushing into him harder. The headboard begins to knock against the wall with each thrust. Ethan reaches back, bracing one hand against it so he doesn't slide up the bed, the other digging into my back.
"Like that," he gasps when I hit the perfect angle. "Right there. Oh god, don't stop."
"Not stopping," I promise, adjusting to maintain the angle that has him writhing beneath me. "Could stay inside you forever."
The room fills with the sounds of our fucking. Skin against skin, breathless moans, the rhythmic bang of the headboard against the wall, and our increasingly loud yells.