Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
Julian gave me a look—part smug, part nervous—and to my complete delight, he smirked.
“Just making sure you soak properly, old man,” he teased back, adjusting the towel slung low on his hips before dropping it and stepping down into the spring.
God. This man.
Too perfect for this world. And it’s gonna kill me.
He moved like sin dressed in grace, wading through the warm water slowly on purpose, watching me with those eyes that always knew how to pull my breath right out of my chest.
“You gonna just stare?” he teased softly. “Or make room for me?”
“As if I could ever say no to you,” I muttered, shifting back a little—but not too much. I didn’t want him far. I wanted him right here.
And as if reading my mind—of course he did—Julian moved right in, straddling my lap without hesitation, sinking down until the water rippled against his chest and my hands rested instinctively on his hips. His skin was warm and soft, and he fit against me like he was made for this. For me.
“Comfy?” I asked, smirking up at him.
“Very,” Julian hummed, laying his arms over my shoulders, fingers playing with the ends of my damp hair. “You make a good chair.”
I laughed, dragging my hands slowly up and down his sides beneath the water, feeling his heartbeat against mine. “I knew this was your real plan. Use me for comfort. Shameless.”
“Obviously.” He grinned, leaning closer so his nose brushed mine. “You’re the best seat in the house.”
God help me.
I let my head fall back against the stone edge, groaning softly, eyes slipping shut as I fought the tug deep in my stomach.
“I don’t know if I can last any longer with you on my lap, pretty boy,” I muttered, voice low and rough against the steam between us.
His weight on my lap, the way his body curved perfectly into mine, the quiet steam curling around us like silk—it was too much.
Julian leaned closer, brushing his lips gently over mine. Testing. Teasing.
I caught him before he could pull back, threading my fingers into his damp hair and tugging him down into a real kiss. Deep. Slow. Like I was memorizing the way he tasted.
His soft gasp against my mouth made something inside me snap loose. I kissed him harder, tilting my head, tongue sliding past his lips until he whimpered—quiet and breathless and beautiful. My grip tightened on his hips, pulling him flush against me.
“You’re gonna drive me insane,” I muttered against his mouth, nipping at his lower lip until he moaned softly. “Sitting on my lap like this, looking so damn perfect... you trying to kill me, pretty boy?”
His breath hitched—a tiny, broken sound that made my chest tighten.
“M-Miles...” he whispered, fingers curling at the nape of my neck.
I grinned against his throat, letting my lips drag down the line of his jaw, down to that soft, sensitive skin just below his ear. I kissed there—gentle at first—then sucked hard enough to mark him. His body twitched, hips rolling down against mine instinctively.
“God,” I growled low, my hands gripping him tighter, pulling him closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between us. “You’ve been teasing me all morning, haven’t you? Bending me like a pretzel in that damn yoga... knowing exactly what it’d do to me.”
A breathless whimper fell from his lips—barely there but real—and he shivered when I licked along the red mark blooming on his skin.
“You like this, huh?” I teased softly, my voice rough, lips dragging to the other side of his neck to leave another mark. “Like being on my lap... grinding against me like you can’t help yourself.”
His hips shifted again, grinding slowly—God, the friction, the heat of the water and his body against mine—it was pure fire. “M-Miles, please...” he breathed, eyes heavy and dark with need.
I groaned, the sound raw in my throat, pulling him impossibly closer so I could kiss him again—deep and messy and perfect—while his soft moans spilled into my mouth.
Jesus. Julian. Like this. Wanting. Needing. Mine.
“Keep making those sounds, pretty boy,” I whispered against his lips, my fingers digging into his waist. “I want to hear every single one of them.”
His quiet, needy whimper made my stomach clench tight.
“God, you’re beautiful when you let go.”
I barely had a second to breathe—Julian shifted in my lap, his eyes glassy with want, lips bitten raw from holding back every desperate sound he made.
Then he surprised me.
With a slow, bold smirk—God help me—he reached down under the water and pushed his swim bottoms down, letting them slip off completely. My chest tightened, breath catching hard in my throat as his bare skin pressed against mine, heat rising even higher despite the steaming spring.
“Julian...” I rasped, voice rough, warning, low.
But he wasn’t stopping.
His hand gripped me—sure, steady, confident like he wanted this, needed this—and lined himself up without breaking our gaze.
“Don’t hold back with me, Miles,” he whispered, cheeks flushed, chest heaving, “I want this. I want you.”
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
My head tipped back slightly, a growl rumbling in my throat. He settled down on me—slowly, carefully—but perfectly. God, perfectly.
“Shit, Julian—” My fingers gripped hard into his hips, holding him still, holding him tight as his body welcomed me like we were made for this. “You feel... fucking incredible, pretty boy.”
His gasp, sweet and broken, filled the space between us, sending shivers down my spine.
I didn’t let him move—not yet. My hands tightened, controlling him, holding him down flush against me. “Stay right there,” I murmured, my lips brushing his ear, making him tremble. “You wanted me to stop holding back, remember? Don’t rush. I want to feel every inch of you like this first.”
His quiet whimper almost undid me.
But then—God—the moment broke loose. My hips snapped up, meeting him, lifting him slightly only to bring him down again in a deep, smooth rhythm. The water sloshed around us, waves rising with every slow thrust, every roll of our bodies moving as if they’d done this forever.
“You always take me so well, baby,” I groaned low in his ear. “Look at you. So full of me. So perfect.”
His fingers dug into my shoulders, head falling back as I set the pace—deeper, firmer, rougher, dragging those gasping moans out of him with every thrust that rocked him down against me.
“You wanted this. Begged for this. Now you’ll take everything I give you,” I gritted out, breathing hard, holding his hips firm as he moved above me, riding every thrust like it was all he’d ever wanted.
His eyes locked on mine—wild, undone, helpless and mine.
“Miles...” he gasped, hands sliding into my hair, clutching tight.
“Yeah, baby... that’s it. Let me hear you.” My voice dropped low, rough with need. “You’re so good for me. So fucking good.”
The water rippled violently around us, rising in waves as the pace grew desperate, raw, perfect—his body moving with mine like he was made to fit me.
“Miles—” His voice broke on my name, breathless, high, full of helpless need.
“I’ve got you, pretty boy,” I groaned against his throat, kissing the marks I’d left earlier. “Let go. Come for me. Let me feel you lose it.”
His whole body shook—quivering—until he gasped my name again, soft and wrecked, and I felt him break apart in my arms.
God, he was perfect.
And I wasn’t far behind—my rhythm faltering, grip tightening, drowning in the feel of him—until I buried my face in his shoulder with a low, guttural sound, letting go completely.
For a moment the world was just heat, and breath, and water swirling around us—like nothing else mattered.
Just us.
The steam curled around us, soft and warm, carrying the last traces of our breathless gasps into the sky. My chest was still rising fast, but slower now, calm settling back into my bones as Julian melted against me like he belonged there.
Because he did.
He sat between my legs, his back pressed to my chest, head tucked under my chin.
The water lapped gently around us, rocking with the faint ripple of movement.
My hands slid slowly over his bare shoulders, thumbs working careful circles into the knots there—earning the softest little sigh from him.
“God,” he muttered, voice low, sleepy. “Your hands should be illegal. I feel like I’m gonna turn into a puddle right here. ”
I smiled against the top of his damp hair, pressing a kiss there. “A puddle, huh? That bad?”
“Mh-hm,” he hummed, eyes fluttering closed. “You’re dangerous. Criminal, even.”
“Guess I better keep massaging you to make up for my crimes.” My thumbs dug gently under the blades of his shoulders, making him groan soft and lazy.
He was glowing. Loose, relaxed—so unlike the tight, tense Julian I’d first met. It made something swell warm and deep in my chest.
“You know,” I murmured near his ear, “if yoga gets you this loose and smiley, maybe you should make me suffer through it more often.”
He snorted softly. “I warned you about those stretches, but no... you insisted you could handle it.”
“My poor back is never recovering,” I sighed dramatically, making him laugh—quiet but real.
I swore right then I’d make him laugh like that every day if I could.
“At least you were flexible enough for this,” he teased, wiggling a little in the water.
I groaned, squeezing his shoulders lightly. “Don’t start that again, pretty boy. You nearly killed me there.”
He peeked up at me with a sly little smirk. “What, can’t handle me now?”
I leaned down, lips brushing his temple. “I can handle you just fine. The real question is... can you handle me?”
Julian’s face flushed a little—but the grin stayed. Soft. Safe.
We fell quiet for a few heartbeats, the water gently shifting, steam curling in lazy wisps around us. “You okay?” I asked softly against his ear. My hand traced slowly over his chest, grounding him. “Really okay?”
He nodded gently. “Yeah. I think... I think I am.” His fingers found mine under the water, squeezing. “You make me feel... normal. Like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”
I felt my chest tighten, warm. “Good. Because you deserve this. Every quiet, happy, normal thing.”
Julian hummed, leaning into me more. “I could stay like this forever.”
“I vote yes to that.” I grinned. “Though, full disclosure... my legs are slowly going numb under you. You’re heavier than you look, pretty boy.”
Julian gasped in mock outrage, twisting to glare at me—splattering water on my chest. “Excuse you! I am graceful and light as air. Like a delicate flower.”
I burst out laughing, catching him around the waist to hold him close again. “A very clingy flower, maybe.”
“Deal with it,” he muttered into my throat, smiling.
“Oh, I will.” I kissed the side of his face, letting the moment stretch, warm and slow. “Forever, if you let me.”
His hand tightened on mine, the tiniest nod. No words—but I felt the answer anyway.
For the first time in so long, Julian felt safe.
And so did I.
We finally peeled ourselves out of the water after what felt like forever—skin wrinkled, muscles loose, hearts light.
Julian yawned as he stepped out, wrapping the thick white towel around his waist, hair dripping onto his shoulders.
God, he looked so soft like this. Sleepy-eyed, flushed from the heat, a little smile still tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Come on, pretty boy,” I teased, tossing him his clothes. “We can’t stay forever, even if you’re cute enough to convince me to try.”
Julian made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, toweling his hair dry. “I would stay forever if the water didn’t make my fingers all pruney.”
I grinned as I slipped on my jeans, watching him sneak glances at me while pretending not to. “You like the view or something?” I murmured.
He rolled his eyes but smiled wider. “Maybe.”
God. My heart was too damn full for this man.
We finished dressing, sharing little touches and quiet smiles between us—Julian fixing the cuff of my sleeve, me straightening his collar—before heading back to the car.
The ride home was quiet, peaceful. Julian scrolled through his playlist on his phone beside me, humming softly along to whatever gentle song he’d put on for us. His hand rested on my thigh, thumb rubbing absent-minded circles.
I caught myself staring at him at every stoplight. He looked... free. Like this was the first real breath of air he’d taken in months.
The tension in my chest loosened.
Maybe things were finally turning.
The next red light blinked up ahead and I instinctively reached for my phone where it buzzed in the console. Just a glance. Just curiosity.
The second the screen lit up—my stomach dropped.
My thumb froze mid-scroll, the corners of my mouth tugging downward.
Julian’s quiet humming beside me stopped.
I gulped. The post was spreading fast. Victor’s name. Julian’s picture.
But wrong. Very, very wrong.
Photoshopped. Twisted.
A cruel, mocking distortion of the man sitting beside me. His body warped, blown out, made grotesque by some idiot’s heavy, hateful hand. The caption underneath—nasty, smug.
It was Victor’s account.
Of course it was.
“Baby?” Julian’s voice, soft and confused beside me. “What’s wrong?”
I quickly locked the phone and forced my face blank. I didn’t answer yet.
Because I couldn’t.
Not until I figured out how the hell I was going to destroy Victor for this.
But Julian already knew something was up. I felt him shift beside me, the happiness draining from the corner of his eye in the reflection of the window.
The light turned green.
I drove forward in silence, my fingers tightening around the wheel.
So much for peace.