Chapter 58
Mel stood at their large window, looking out into the driveway. It hadn’t been quite ten minutes yet. No reason to believe Rhys had changed his mind and gone to his apartment instead.
They didn’t want him to be alone right now. Something apparently happened when they were in Ohio. Mel didn’t know if Rhys would even talk to them, but they could at least take his mind off whatever it was.
They saw the flash of headlights and stepped away from the window to go to the door. They could see Rhys sitting out there. Was he coming inside or not? Maybe he needed to be explicitly invited in.
What was he? A vampire?
Mel snickered. They might not mind if he bit them. They shook off that thought and opened the door. He finally stepped out of the car.
Mel stayed where they were and let him come to them. He still seemed hesitant. Did he think they’d lied to him about not being angry? If he wanted Alfie more than them, they’d certainly let him go. They didn’t want to be his second choice, but they could handle being one of his choices.
He walked slowly as he came up to the porch. Was he holding himself stiffly? Mel wondered if he was still in pain from his injury at the beginning of the week. Maybe he should have gone home then. Mel certainly didn’t want to cause him any more injury. “Are you all right?”
“Physically? Or is that more of a metaphorical question?”
“Mostly I meant your shoulder. Is it still bothering you?”
He rolled the joint. “A little sore still. I won’t be starting next week, but I could pinch hit or take over in the later innings if they need a substitution.”
“I wasn’t asking because I worried about your playing. I was asking for your sake.”
He blinked at them as if he didn’t understand why anything else would even matter. They thought of some of the things they’d overheard him saying. Maybe he really didn’t.
“Do you want to come inside?” they asked him.
“If you’re sure you want me here.”
They stepped forward and reached up to cup his cheek. “I wouldn’t have invited you over if I didn’t.”
He studied their face as if he didn’t actually believe them.
They wanted to throat punch anyone who ever made him feel like he wasn’t worth anything when he didn’t have his baseball glove on.
They weren’t a violent person but no one should be made to feel like one aspect of them was the only thing that brought them any worth.
He followed them into the house, so they supposed that was something. They closed the door and turned to face him, but he paced from the couch to the wall and back.
“Rhys,” Mel said, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
He spun toward them. “Why aren’t you judging me? I like casual sex too much. I’ll sleep with anything that moves. I can’t even hold off for a single week. How could you ever trust me?”
“How many people have said those things to you?”
“What does it matter? We all know they’re true.”
“We don’t all know that.” The words came out with some vehemence. “I don’t believe them. Well, maybe that first,” they said, hoping their smile came across. “I don’t see anything wrong with enjoying sex. That doesn’t make you a bad person, Rhys.”
“Are you sure?” Rhys’s laugh sounded bitter. “My best friend seems to think so.”
“If he truly thinks that of you, that’s his problem, not yours. Maybe he’s not that good of a friend if he has that opinion.”
Rhys shook his head, but he still seemed miserable. Mel stepped up to him and put one hand on his chest. “I want to be with you, Rhys. I like you. I really liked the way you kissed me. But, I don’t want to do anything with you that will make you hate yourself.”
“Why would I hate myself?” he asked. “I’m me. Everyone loves me.”
If they’d heard him say that at any other time, they would have believed he meant it. They could see it for what it was, defense against being hurt. They wanted to know what happened to cause him to don that armor now, but doubted he’d tell them.
Maybe if he realized he was safe here with them, without any judgment. Not that they’d been clear about that at the beginning. That had been their own defense mechanism at work. Something they would have to think about later.
Instead they took his hand and pulled him over to the couch. He sank down next to them, but he didn’t reach out for them. It looked like they had to take matters into their own hands. Literally, even.
“Am I allowed to touch you?”
He looked down at their clasped hands. “It looks like you already are.”
Mel let out a soft laugh. “How about this? Is there anywhere you don’t want me to touch you?”
Rhys didn’t have a smart comeback for that one. He just shook his head.
“If that changes,” Mel said, “just let me know. Believe me, I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” There were times when they did like to be touched everywhere, and certain times when they really didn’t. They didn’t always know which way it would go until they were in the middle of something.
Some partners had not been understanding of that. They hoped Rhys wouldn’t prove to be the same.
As they swung their leg over his thighs—God, they were thick—his hands went instantly to their waist, cupping their hips as they settled into place.
Once they had their balance—they weren’t sure they’d be able to hold this position for too long; they weren’t quite that flexible—his hands moved up under their shirt.
He wasn’t at all shy about running his hands along the flesh there.
Mel was not thin. No matter how many health kicks their mother tried to drag them through.
They took more after their father’s side of the family, tall, but with plenty of bulk to their build.
It had taken some time in college—away from their mother’s judgment and with actual studies about the way genetics affect body development—to finally be okay with that fact.
They didn’t need a lover to be hesitant to touch them and let that send them back to where they believed the way they were built wasn’t okay.
They didn’t get that sense from Rhys. Not with the way his hands were running over their stomach and up to their chest. He did stop and look up at them. Still asking for permission even though they’d given him carte blanche to touch them.
To help him, Mel took off their shirt and cupped his hand around their breast. “I told you I’d let you know if I didn’t like it. Today isn’t one of those days.”
His gaze dropped down to where his thumb rested next to their nipple.
Damn they wanted him to move it. Closer.
Definitely closer. Mel shifted, already feeling the stretch in their hips from straddling him.
That brought their breast more fully into his hand.
They could feel the scratch of his calluses over their soft flesh.
His lips parted, but he brought his hand up to their other breast. They leaned in, pressing their breasts into his palms, his fingers squeezing slightly as they slid their mouth over his.
Mel could feel his cock against their stomach and moaned as he flexed.
“Fuck, Mel,” he said, panting into their mouth. “I really want you.”
“Yeah?” Their mouth curled up. “You don’t say.”
He let his head drop back against the couch. Mel’s hand curled into his hair as they bent to kiss his throat. “What are you going to do about it?”
He let out a low whimper as their teeth scraped over the line of his jaw, and they closed their lips on the lobe of his ear. No teeth. Not yet.
“What do you want me to do?”
Wasn’t that obvious? Absolutely anything he wanted. As long as it got both of them off. Even when they released his ear and pulled back, he just watched them. His eyes were wide, clouded with desire, but they were fully on Mel, waiting for them to tell him what they needed from him.
Mel couldn’t remember the last time they’d been with a man who had done that. Hell, it was partly why they most often dated people who weren’t cis men. They apparently didn’t have to remind Rhys they deserved some pleasure as well.
They moved and a twinge went through their hip. First thing was first, they definitely needed to change position. Making out on the couch was all well and good, but not when their legs would stretch over those fucking thighs. They wanted to give that part of his body the attention it deserved.
Mel slid off his lap and held their hand out to him. “For that,” they said, “I think we should go to my room.”