Chapter 6
Kevin came back from the garage and headed down the hall to the downstairs bathroom. The toilet flushed and the shower turned on. After a few minutes of vigorous splashing sounds, the shower went off.
I was sitting on the sofa with my e-reader, perfectly positioned to watch as half-naked Kevin stalked past the open doorway, his body still gleaming with water and a towel wrapped around his waist.
I listened to his footsteps pound up the stairs, tracked his progress to the bedroom by following the creaking boards overhead, and smiled when the footsteps thudded back along the landing to the top of the stairs.
“Get your arse up here right now, Charlie Galloway,” he bellowed.
“No, thank you,” I called back. “You brought vermin into my house. I’m not going to reward that behaviour.”
“There was no mouse. I looked.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said.
“I looked!”
“Well, I don’t know if I believe you.”
Kevin didn’t reply.
…what was he doing?
Was he still standing at the top of the stairs, tanned skin beaded with water, his hair dripping down his back, cheeks flushed and rosy because he always turned the shower up far too hot?
“Kevin?”
Nothing.
I put my e-reader down and sat upright. “Kevin?”
I heard a very faint moan.
“Are you up there wanking again?” I shouted. I got to my feet and marched to the door. He’d better not have got started without me. I rushed out into the hall. I’d been teasing him, and I?—
I yelped when he grabbed me, pushed me up against the wall, and shoved his tongue down my throat.
“Hmm,” he said, pulling back with a hard suck that left my bottom lip throbbing. “Thought I’d get more of a reaction out of you than that. It wasn’t very high at all.”
I pushed at his shoulders. “I don’t scream that high, stop exaggerating.”
“I’ll have to think of something else to make you scream.” He took hold of my wrists and held them against the wall, either side of my head.
As long as he didn’t bust out another mouse, he was welcome to try.
“You’re still wet,” I said. Kevin’s hair was dripping down his neck. Little beads of water slipped down to skate over his shoulders and down his thick chest, chasing each other down, down, down. The droplets glimmered over his abs. Pooled in his bellybutton. Soaked into?—
He tipped my chin up. “It was a little treat for you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“A little treat. I know you like me wet.”
I mean…I did. I didn’t know he knew that.
“I pay half the water bill,” he said. “It’s not that high. We don’t really have to shower together as much as we do.”
“It’s not about the money. Showering together is efficient time-wise,” I informed him. “And it’s good for the environment.”
“Yeah.” He stepped back and removed his towel.
My eyes nearly fell out of my head.
I should be used to naked Kevin by now.
I wasn’t.
“So, I’ve been doing some research,” he said.
“Hmm?”
“Charlie.”
I dragged my eyes up to his face. “Yes. Sorry. What are you researching? Water bills?”
“No. Gay stuff.” He held out a hand.
I took it without thinking and his long fingers closed over mine. I shivered. Of course, he noticed.
“Aw,” he said. “You’re so sweet.” He lifted my hand to his mouth. He didn’t kiss it. He turned it and bit the bone at the side of my wrist, watching me. “Love the way I scramble your brain.”
“It’s…I’m…it’s not scrambled. I’m…I’m reeling in horror at the thought of you researching, that’s all.”
He picked up my other hand and walked backwards, drawing me after him.
“Because,” I said, following him and trying not to get distracted by the sway of his erection and his beautiful, manscaped balls, “you say research but we both know you’ve been watching more gay porn.”
“Those guys are very creative.”
“I don’t need creative, I just need—” I cut myself off and stared at him. He smiled at me slowly, his brown eyes unblinking on mine. Wanting me to finish. “You,” I said, and smiled back at him. “I just need you.”
Sometimes, when I smiled at him, Kevin tilted his head and got this strange look on his face. I didn’t know what it meant. I liked it, though.
“You’ve got me,” he said. His voice lowered. “And I’ve got you.”
He really had.
“Now get up those stairs.” He swung me around and shoved me up ahead of him.
I was laughing by the time I made it to the top.
“So this research,” he said, and grunted as he wrapped big arms around me from behind and hefted me off my feet. I clutched his forearms. “It’s still in the preliminary stages. I have to buy some things.”
“Things?” My stomach plunged. I wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or apprehension. “What kind of things?”
We made it to the bedroom. He strode over to the bed and set me on my feet before hauling my t-shirt up and leaving me to deal with it while he got to work on my shorts.
I wrestled out of the t-shirt. He yanked my shorts and boxers down, dropping into a crouch behind me and wrapping an arm around my thighs.
“Kevin?” I said nervously.
“Yeah,” he sighed, drawing it out. He kissed the small of my back and nuzzled his way lower.
“What…what things?”
“Hmm?” He pushed his fingers between my cheeks and went right for my hole, keeping me locked against him with an arm around my thighs. I felt a hot, wet flicker of tongue, and jerked. “Prostate massage wand,” he said. “Reckon I can make you scream high if I get one of those up there?”
From what I’d heard about prostate massage wands, he could make me dance like a marionette if he got one of those up there.
“Why do you want me to scream high?” I said, frowning at the bed.
Kevin slowly stood behind me. He tucked his face into my neck and kissed it. “It’s not the pitch,” he said. “That’s new. That’s since today. I want to see what it takes to make you get loud.” He turned me in his arms. “Other than when you’re telling someone off.”
I scowled at him.
He grinned, unfazed. “Yeah. You get loud all right when you give someone a good scolding.”
“I’ll give you a good scolding in a minute,” I threatened.
“You can try,” he said. “But I can’t take you seriously.”
I bristled at him, eyebrows up and hands on my hips.
He huffed a laugh.
“Now look here.” I drilled a forefinger into his chest. “You will take me very seriously, or I’ll?—”
He ducked his head and kissed me. “What?” he said when he pulled back. His eyes were hot and heavy on mine. “You’ll what, huh? Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
I hunted for a decent threat. “I shall withhold your lattes.”
“Go ahead,” he said, and squeezed my arse. “I’m not here for your lattes.”
I rubbed myself against him, stroking his arms restlessly. “Why do you want me to be loud, anyway?” I said. “Am I…? Am I doing it wrong?”
He drew back, staring at me in surprise. “No. Of course not. You’re perfect.”
His words were raw and honest, and I couldn’t doubt that he believed them.
Even though they were, objectively, utter nonsense.
“I like making you lose it,” he said. “You lose it so nicely for me.”
I blushed.
Ugh.
He ran the backs of his fingers over the curve of my cheek and hummed. “Every time. It’s like you’re starving for it.”
I blushed even harder. “I’m not.”
“I know,” he said soothingly, still stroking my cheek. I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “You’re starving for me.” He traced my bottom lip and slipped two fingers into my mouth. “Just for me, Charlie.”
I took a sharp breath in through my nose but didn’t protest when he rested his fingers on my tongue. His eyes sharpened when I tightened my lips and swallowed nervously.
“I love your noises,” he said. “Especially the ones you make when I blow you. I almost never get to hear them.”
I lifted my chin, sliding his fingers out, and said, “Perhaps you should blow me more often. You’re welcome to do it whenever you feel the need. Have at it.”
“Thank you. Don’t mind if I do.” He kissed my nose.
“The real reason you don’t hear me isn’t because I’m not making any noise. It’s because you make such a racket.”
And god how I loved it. He was vigorous and hearty. He held nothing back. My arms were around his waist and I let my hands drift down to hold his muscular buttocks.
He arched his spine, pushing into my touch. “Can’t help it,” he said. “You turn me on that hard. And that’s kind of my point. I reckon if I’m holding you down and using something on you, I won’t be the one making all the noise. That way, I can watch your face at the same time.”
I was both horrified and aroused at the idea of it—of me unravelling and Kevin still being in control. Of him watching me.
He gave me a slow and filthy smile.
“We could always gag you,” I said weakly. “Then you might be able to hear me.” I laughed at his expression. “Hah. Hadn’t thought of that, had you?”
He wrangled me onto the bed and dropped on top.
I stretched out with a happy hum, wrapping my arms around him.
Kevin seemed more real to me than anyone else in the whole world.
Was it because I touched him all the time, and he touched me? Because I knew his body now—how he felt on me, under me, sliding over me like he was now, working against me like he would in a minute? How he felt sleeping against me, holding me close, or snoring in my face?
No. It wasn’t his uncompromising physicality and presence. It was him. Kevin.
A large, strong man. A rude, demanding lover. A sweet, generous partner.
The kind of person who nerdy little Charlie from the photo album, with his tucked-in t-shirts and fussily ironed jeans and the (to him) daring rainbow socks he wore every day for two years in a row (he’d bought multiple pairs) as a big hint to his parents before coming out couldn’t even imagine existing, let alone dream of one day having.
“Charlie,” Kevin whispered against my mouth. “Why are you sad again?”
I looked up into his gentle brown eyes. “I’m not sad,” I said, surprised.
He rubbed between my brows with his thumb then skimmed his hand down to rest his palm against the side of my neck. “Okay.”
I wasn’t sad. I was thoughtful.
Grateful.
I tightened my arms around him. God, he was solid. I squeezed him as hard as I could, and he didn’t even grunt. “I love you, you know?”
He tilted his head to one side. “I know.”