Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE_
DECAF
We’re so close now, the heat of his body pressed against mine, the strain of his cock trying to escape his underwear, and I’m frozen because of what he’s asking. What he’s telling me to do.
Give up on him? He really is misguided when it comes to how I feel about him, and I know that’s my fault, but he’s misread every single thing I’ve done. “I couldn’t give up on you if I tried. And trust me, I’ve tried.”
Hazard’s tongue peeks out between his lips, wetting them, and even though my heart is racing and there’s a voice in the back of my head telling me I shouldn’t be doing this—I shouldn’t be this naked or in his personal space—nothing is going to pull me away.
He’s just as frozen as I am, both of us stuck here with only one question hanging above us. Are we really going to do this?
Am I really going to give in to this fire that’s been growing inside me from the moment he walked into my life?
The burning need I've had to protect him, to finally admit I want nothing more than to hold him? The very thing I’ve been trying to convince myself has everything to do with my connection with Jesse and not with him?
“I can’t keep pretending like you have no effect on me when you have every effect on me.”
We’re both breathing heavy now, his chest rising and falling against my own, and it’s only a matter of time before one of us breaks.
“Show me?” he whispers.
Apparently, that’s all it takes for the last wall between us to come crashing down.
I turn us and push Haz against the tiled wall next to the shower taps and don’t let him say another word.
My lips capture his, not in a soft or caring manner but in a move of dominance and full of claim. I push my tongue inside his mouth and taste him.
I not only want to show him exactly what he does to me, but I want to break him. I need him to be as broken as I am, to feel everything I feel when he’s near me.
Beneath the tightness in my chest when I look at him is the simmering need to get closer.
I bite down on his bottom lip, and instead of pulling away or yelping, he fucking moans and uses his hands that are holding my hips to grind his lower half against me. He’s still got his briefs on, but I can feel every inch of how hard he is.
Fucking hell, this can’t be happening. What am I doing? More importantly, why can’t I stop?
I should fucking stop.
This is all kinds of wrong. His dad would hate it. Fuck, his mom will hate it. Yet, there’s something so right about this too.
It’s not going to be as easy as he says. This has already gone too far to really recover from it, which means the only option for us is to follow whatever this is wherever it leads.
With the way our lives are on the line in the long term, worst-case scenario is we part ways in Montenegro, but that will have to be his choice.
I can’t leave him. Ever. Even if he decides he was wrong and he doesn’t want this, I can’t be the one to walk away from him.
I will have to swallow my pride, the hit to my ego, and deal with another layer of emotional turmoil when it comes to Haz.
Because now that I’m kissing him, I don’t ever want to stop.
I didn’t think it would be like this. I’m buzzing so hard, I have the urge to rip my skin off just to release the pressure building in my veins.
His tongue starts warring with mine, pushing back, testing boundaries, and if I weren’t so fucking injured, I’d put him in his place and tell him this isn’t about me. It will always be about him if we’re going to do this.
So I push back and take control.
Only the little fucker won’t let me. He breaks his mouth from mine and says breathlessly, “You’re injured.”
“I’ve got this,” I reassure him, and okay, it might come out a bit bossy.
“You’re so fucking set in your ways. You know it’s okay to let someone take care of you, don’t you?”
“You’ve been taking care of me for days. It’s my turn.” With my one good hand, my other still resting on his shoulder, I shove one side of his boxer briefs down and then the other. I lift my hand to his mouth and say, “Lick it.”
His warm tongue licks along my palm, and I would say aloud I’m surprised he didn’t reply with something snarky before he obeyed.
Pleasantly surprised, but I’m not going to tell him that because he seems the type to be a brat just to get a rise out of me.
It would work too, but I can’t give away all my secrets the first time I make him come.
When my hand is good and wet with his saliva, I reach between us and wrap my fingers around both our shafts. With having to use my nondominant hand, it’s awkward, but I’m not going to let that get in my way.
His skin is so tight, the head of his cock so swollen as I rub my thumb over it. I want to get a closer look, and if it weren’t for my damn stitches, I’d sink to my knees and give it the attention he deserves.
Because Haz does deserve it. He deserves everything. I might not be the right guy to give it to him, but there’s no going back. No waffling.
At least, not on my part.
By doing this, I’m making him a promise. No matter what happens, I’ll be there for him. I’m going to give him whatever he needs and whatever the fuck he wants. And right now, he wants to come. His breathing is shallow and erratic, mixed in with moans and throaty whines as I stroke us together.
The noises he makes, the look on his face as he closes his eyes and parts his lips, it’s enough to make me go crazy with need.
I stroke faster and faster, only getting spurred on by his raspy “Oh, fuck.”
I love the way he’s let go and allowed me to do this. Even if it was reluctantly. This is the best part of sex for me. Sure, the release of an orgasm is great too, but this? Seeing grown men fall apart in my hands? There is nothing sexier and nothing else that gets me off harder.
He’s teetering on the edge, so close I can feel it. He ruts against me, his hips losing rhythm as he tries to fuck into my hand harder. He only needs a little … more. I lean in and suck on his neck.
He lets out a shuddery “Shit, I’m coming” before his whole body trembles. I want to see it, the look on his face, the cum splashing between us, but I’m too busy concentrating on getting myself across the finish line.
It feels so good as my hand milks his cock while it moves against mine, but no matter how hard I chase the high, it’s like my body can’t get with the program.
Oh, sure, the meds have no effect on me getting hard.
Finishing, on the other hand? That’s it.
No more pain meds. I can deal with the recovery.
I can’t deal with Haz thinking he’s not good enough for me or that he doesn’t turn me on like crazy.
Because that’s not it. I’ve never been this fucking turned on. Ever.
When Haz finally breaks through his orgasmic fog, he pushes my hand away and takes over jerking me off. I rest my head on his shoulder and enjoy the way he’s touching me, ignoring that tiny voice in the back of my head asking if this is really happening.
“Are you close?” he rasps.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you need?”
Again, I answer, “I don’t know.”
He chuckles. “You don’t know much, do you?”
“I really fucking don’t.” And that’s not only referring to this situation.
I’ve made so many mistakes, and I’m so done with all that. “I think it’s the meds fucking with my dick.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he snarks, but there’s a hint of real doubt in there too.
“Keep going,” I say. “It feels so fucking good.”
The doubt is all gone as he smiles wickedly. “I have a better idea.” Haz turns us gently so I’m the one up against the wall. Instead of pressing in against me again, he pulls up his boxer briefs and then sinks to his knees on the wet tiles.
I wince because all I can think about is how bad that would be for his knees, but then I remember he’s in his fucking twenties and decide he can handle it.
I wouldn’t be able to, but he can, and he looks so fucking delectable while he does it.
If anything is going to get me across the line, it’s Haz on his knees for me.
“Stop thinking.” He strokes my cock while palming my balls in his other hand. “Just feel.”
That, I can do. As soon as he leans forward and takes the tip of my cock in his mouth, I go from worrying about not coming at all to coming way too soon. He hasn’t even done anything yet but wrap his warm lips around me. While I’d like to at least show a bit of control, I don’t have any.
When my hips surge forward and push my cock all the way into his mouth, his eyes crinkle in amusement.
He knows what he’s doing to me, and the thing is, he hasn’t even brought out the big guns yet.
But the second he does, I fucking lose it.
All it takes is for him to add the slightest bit of suction for my orgasm to explode in his mouth.
It comes out of nowhere but has been simmering since the moment we came into this bathroom.
This might not have been my plan when he offered to help me shower, but I can’t say I’m all that surprised it’s led here. I wanted to be strong when I got the sense his flirting had become for real and not just mocking, but that strength has lasted a couple of days.
As much as I should be ashamed of that effort, in this position? Haz on his knees for me, swallowing my dick as I come down his throat, all I can think is, Oh well, I tried.
My orgasm seems to go on and on, but with the release of that pleasure, the receptors blocking out the pain from my injuries have no hope of keeping up.
When I’ve finally stopped shuddering and he’s swallowed every drop, I’m bone-tired and aching everywhere.
My cock slips from his mouth as I sink down with my back against the wall.
“Shit, are you okay?” Haz cups my cheeks and hovers over me.
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I think I’m not used to that much physical activity since the whole …” I wave my hand over my broken body.
“Come on, I’ll help you up and get you back to bed. Though I haven’t had a chance to change your sheets yet. There’s no point to the shower if you’re going to get back into the same sweaty sheets.”
“There was no real point to the shower when I’m now covered in cum.”
He laughs. “True. Do you think you can stand on your own? You can wash yourself down while I change your bedding.”
This is one of those times where I’d normally play it off and say I’ve got it when the truth is I don’t even know if I can pull myself off this cold floor. So I shake my head but can’t look him in the eye as I do it.
There’s no judgment as he says, “What if …” He stands and pulls the showerhead off the holder, turning it back on and waiting for the water to warm up again. “Hold this.” He shoves it in my good hand while going back to holding my other arm out of the way of the spray.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to wash you and then let you sit here under the hot water while I go get your bed ready. I’m going to take care of you, even though you’ll hate every minute of it.” He smiles down at me.
That voice I’ve been trying to drown out comes through loud and clear when it says, “You don’t deserve him,” but there’s something else that’s louder. My desire to not lose this connection.
“Or …” I say slowly. “I could sleep in your bed instead.”
“My bed? Where would I sleep?”
I almost roll my eyes. “In your bed.”
“How are we going to explain that one to Scout?”
“The truth? Or mostly? Instead of bothering to change the bedding, you offered up your room.”
His lips twitch. “I don’t recall offering, more like you inviting yourself into my bed.”
“Yeah, but he would never believe that.”
“True. Well, I’m okay with it if you are.”
I shouldn’t be okay with it, but I want nothing more.