Chapter 19
Knox
Icheck on Taylor every hour, just as the doctor required.
I only wake him up every other time, though, satisfied with his heavy breathing and small moans to let me know he’s safe.
I spend longer than necessary in the presence of his sleeping form and finally, by two a.m., I grab a pillow and a blanket to sleep on the floor next to his bed.
This way, I don’t have to walk down the hall and make noise opening his door and risk waking him.
I adjust my pillow, and a small groan of discomfort leaves my lips at the way my shoulder grinds into the hard floor beneath me.
Suddenly, a sleepy voice rings out above me.
“If you’re moving in, you might as well just get in this bed,” Taylor says, still half asleep.
His eyes aren’t even open.
It takes me a full minute to formulate my response. When I finally find words, they’re lacking.
“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
But Taylor doesn’t have the reservations I do. Eyes open, now looking fully awake, he props himself up on an elbow to look down at me.
“Come on, Knox. No one wants to sleep on the fucking floor. I’m fine. Go back to bed.”
“No,” I reply stubbornly. “The doctor said you had to be checked on and woken up, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m just tired of walking down the hallway.”
A hand reaches down for me, fingers curling in the neck of my T-shirt. “Then get your ass up here because I can’t sleep knowing you’re on the floor.”
Needing him to rest because that’s the best thing for a concussion, I give in.
“Christ, fine,” I huff. “Move over.”
“I don’t like being the big spoon,” he says immediately.
“What?” I grind out, too fucking exhausted to execute this interaction with any finesse.
“If I move over, it puts me behind you because there’s a wall over here, and I don’t like being the big spoon in the back,” Taylor explains, not making an sense at all.
I scrub a hand down my face. “Taylor, it’s two o’clock in the fucking morning, why are you talking about spoons?”
“Have you never heard of spooning?” he cries, like I just committed a war crime.
I stare at him in the moonlight from the window, my expression blank, hoping it’s enough to answer his question.
It must work because he reaches out and grabs my wrist pulling me down onto the bed. “Come here. I’ll show you.”
I land face down as he shuffles backward, and I quickly adjust to lie on my left side so I’m turned away from him, shy of the intimacy facing him would require. But suddenly, he’s at my back so we’re lying butt to nuts, and he drapes an arm over me, his breath hot on my neck.
“This is called spooning, you poor, neglected soul,” Taylor explains, a hint of teasing in his voice.
Despite his playful attitude, I’m stiff as a board.
“Or at least it would be if you’d relax and let me mold myself to you.
The person in the front is the little spoon because of how spoons fit in a drawer. ”
“Taylor—”
I can’t finish my thought because he cuts me off.
“Look, you want me to rest and go back to sleep, and the only way I’m going to be able to do that is if you let me be the little spoon.
So, now that you know what spooning is, can you please switch places with me?
I’ll fall asleep like the good boy you said I was earlier, and we can forget it ever happened come morning. ”
With a sigh, I digest his words before climbing over him as he scoots forward to make room for me behind him. Someone should give me a goddamn award for ignoring the sensations running through me right now.
And I am definitely entitled to monetary compensation when Taylor reaches behind him and pulls my arm around his waist as he nestles his tight, round ass right into my fucking dick.
“Taylor…” I start in warning again.
But he throws it to the side, not caring one iota about my discomfort.
“You can yell at me tomorrow. Just let me have tonight.”
I’d fight harder, but he says it on a yawn, and I really need him to sleep. So, I stay quiet and tug him to me tightly, content knowing he’s safe.
I thought I’d have trouble sleeping. I thought I’d be mortified about my rapidly swelling cock trying to break into his ass like a home invasion. I thought it would be impossible to sleep with another man in my arms.
But for the first time in a long time, all I feel is deep-seated peace. I’m using Taylor as a buffer against the real world, and I like how it feels to hide behind him like this. Like I have a purpose again, and that purpose is to keep him safe, healthy, and happy.
He bends his knees forward slightly, and I bristle at the loss of contact. My legs follow suit a second later, wanting to be flush against his warmth.
I fall asleep to the rhythmic expansion of his lungs, and I sleep harder than I’ve ever slept in my life.
Morning wood is a bitch sometimes.
I’m not even horny, yet here it is, trying to burrow itself into the wall. Every time my dick bumps against the sheetrock, I get a little jolt of pleasure, though, so maybe it’s not all bad.
Wait, there’s no wall on either side of my bed…I have nightstands. Only the bed in the guestroom has…fuck.
My eyes spring open to see the back of a head of blond hair. Immediately, I still my hips and pray Taylor’s asleep because if he realized I was rut—
“Please don’t stop,” he whines, his sleep-filled voice making my traitorous cock twitch as he pushes his ass back, seeking the friction from a moment ago.
“Oh, hell,” I mutter, moving my hand to his hip to stop his ass from colliding with my groin. “I’m sorry. I can’t control that thing sometimes. I was hoping you were still asleep and didn’t notice.”
“I’ll pretend to be fucking dead if it means you’ll start grinding on me again,” he says, no hint of joking this time. “Besides, I know how dicks work, Knox. You don’t have to apologize…unless you don’t start moving.”
Trying to ignore the growing desire to give in and get off, I change the subject.
“How are you feeling this morning? Any dizziness, nausea?” I ask into his hair.
“Yeah, I’m fucking dizzy. All my blood is in my cock, and it feels like the damn thing is going to fall off.”
I snort a laugh. “So dramatic.”
Suddenly, he grabs my hand from his hip and yanks my arm forward, placing my hand right over what is very obviously his erection.
“Does this feel dramatic to you?” he asks.
“Holy shit. How do you have that much between your legs? You’re like five feet tall.” And then another thought occurs to me. “And where the hell does it go when you wear those shorts?”
Taylor groans. “I promise I’ll answer all your questions. Just please touch me.”
I’m far closer to giving in than I ever thought I’d be for a plea like that. No one’s begged me for anything in a very, very long time. Before I have to commit, though, I hear my alarm clock going off down the hallway.
“Saved by the bell,” I joke, not even sure he’s old enough to get the reference.
Now, the problem is that I have to figure out how to climb over him. Pushing up onto my elbow, I make a suggestion as I try quickly swinging a leg over him to slip out of bed.
“Why don’t you get off in my sheets—it’s laundry day anyway—and I’ll go start breakfast.”
As soon as I have one leg over him, Taylor grabs my hips and handles me like I’m the smaller one, slamming me down onto his lap. He’d shifted to his back as I was trying to make my escape.
Thrown off balance, I quickly plant my hands by his head. “I’ll crush you,” I say, trying to lift my weight off him.
“Knox, I’m…n-not that small.” His words are broken as he forcefully grinds me back and forth across his dick. It’s pointed toward his stomach so my massive frame is rubbing along the underside of his shaft…which, apparently, he likes. A lot.
“Based on the ride you’re making me take, and the telephone pole in your pants, I think it’s safe to say your dick isn’t small at all.”
What am I doing? I chide myself.
I should be getting up. My alarm is still going off. Thankfully, its obnoxious beeping is only a whimper in the distance, but I hear it, and it’s reminding me that it’s time to get back to reality and start my day.
“You can’t compliment my dick while grinding against me and then not get me off, Knox. That’s cruel.”
“I’m not grind…you’re doing that!” I argue.
Taylor holds his hands up in front of my face, and to my absolute horror, my hips continue to move on their own.
He gives me the sexiest, most confident smirk I’ve ever seen. “You were saying?”
I try to swing my other leg over him to go find my fucking sanity, but he catches my calf, pulls it back down, and locks it into place next to his hip. Fuck, he’s a lot stronger than he looks.
“Just this once,” he begs, thrusting his hips up into me. “Please. I’m fucking dying over here, and you can give me everything I need. It doesn’t mean you’re gay. It just means you’re helping a friend.”
I would laugh, but I’m starting to match his level of desperation with each pump of his body against mine.
“Fine,” I hear myself grit out. “But then you back the hell off and we never speak of this again,” I add.
What I feel for Taylor is complicated. Even after talking to the guys about it, I’d decided there are just too many hurdles to overcome.
During our conversation that never happened last night, I’d planned to tell Taylor for the hundredth time that this thing between us can’t happen.
“Deal. Now make me fucking come,” he says through clenched teeth.
Jesus Christ.
With my heart beating a thousand beats per minute, I try not to black out as I remind him, “You forget I don’t know what I’m doing, so I don’t know how much help I’ll be. But you can have five minutes to use me however you need.”
His eyes roll back in his head. “I only need one.”
He pushes the boxers he’s wearing—my boxers—down to bare his dick and lines me up so that every time he thrusts upward, his cock brushes along my own, still concealed by my thin pajama pants. His hands dip under my waistband, and he grabs two handfuls of my ass hard enough to leave bruises.
The zing of pain only adds to the pleasure, and my hips buck forward as he pulls me into himself, slightly spreading my cheeks apart.
I fight to keep my eyes open. They want to close and get lost in the pleasure he’s giving me, even as he takes his own, but his face is too fucking beautiful, and if I’m only doing this once, I don’t want to miss any of it.
He’s shameless about how his mouth hangs open. His eyes are so heavily lidded, he looks stoned out of his mind. And the sounds he makes…I’ll never unhear them.
I wish his shirt was off so I could watch his pecs flex as he grips me and moves me along his body. I’ve never seen another man’s body come undone before.
Then, suddenly, there’s a tingle at the base of my spine.
Oh no…no, no, no.
This was meant to be for him.
Not me.
I try everything I can think of to get the feeling to go away, but I make the mistake of tilting my head down in an effort to tear my gaze away from his beautiful face, and my eyes land on his cock instead…
Right as he says, “Oh fuck, yes. Knox, I’m coming.”
Taylor’s balls empty onto his stomach in the most fascinating series of muscle contractions I’ve ever witnessed as he lies beneath me.
He must’ve pulled his shirt up while I was watching his cock, so his cum hits his bare skin, and the sight of him marking himself sends a wave of desire through me so strong, I can’t hold back.
“Oh shit,” I groan, as my orgasm prepares to barrel through me. As soon as he realizes what’s happening, Taylor grabs my face and forces me to look at him.
“Trust me,” is all he says before pushing me forward by my ass, causing my knees to land on either side of his head.
My hands smack the wall behind the headboard, and when I look down again, Taylor has pulled my pants down and has his hand wrapped around my cock.
He’s aiming it at his open mouth, his eyes locked onto mine.
When he sticks his tongue out, I fucking lose it, and I come with the force of a wrecking ball right into his waiting mouth.