Chapter 24 #2
“Hyper—Oh.” Jamie’s expression shifts from confused to surprised. “You— Really?” I nod. “Wow. You don’t look it.”
“How so?”
He probably thinks that people like me just sit around and jerk off to porn all day.
“I know no two people are the same,” he starts reluctantly, “but I thought hypersexuality means that you’re easily irritable or mean when, um, when you haven’t had a r-release for a while.
And that you can’t concentrate properly, because your brain literally cannot think of anything else beyond sex, so you get really antsy. ”
My brows shoot up. While his interpretation is a bit of a reach, it’s not totally inaccurate.
I’m impressed that the answer isn’t something along the lines of: ‘Hypersexual people just have sex all day and will settle for anyone, and they’re so horny they can’t even hold down a job.
’ Which, tragically, is the consensus of the general public these days.
“That’s true in some cases, especially when it’s accompanied by other conditions,” I explain. “There are hypersexuals who don’t even have sex much, or at all, but they do think about it a lot. Sometimes obsessively.”
“Really?”
“Yup. It’s not so much about the actions you take.
It’s about what goes on in here.” I tap my temple.
“And yeah, it can translate into physical symptoms.” I give him what’s hopefully a reassuring smile.
“You’re not that far off, by the way. And you’re right about no two people being the same.
There are different types and levels of severity. ”
Jamie seems deep in thought, and gosh, I love that about him. Love how seriously he takes this.
“Does it make sense?” I check.
“It does.” He licks his lips and peers at me, eager curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “What is it like for you, then?”
“You could say I’m a mild case. For me, it’s about dopamine sensitivity. And I have high highs and low lows. I do struggle with concentration here and there, mostly when it comes to staring at my computer, which, you know, can be a bit tricky when you’re responsible for cyber-security.”
“Oh yeah. That must be difficult.”
“It’s been going pretty well lately. I wonder why,” I tease, hoping to see that blush again.
I’m not disappointed. Jamie goes red to the tips of his ears, then scowls.
“Glad to hear that hackers have had no luck because I let you tap it regularly.”
I bark a laugh. “Let me?” I pull him into my lap before he knows what hit him. “Bunny, you beg me to tap it.”
He sputters, squirming and bringing my dick back to life after the emotional damage it suffered.
“Y-you like it when I beg you.”
“Hmm, I do.” I kiss his neck, then gently nip his earlobe, eliciting a delicious shiver.
“I love how desperate you get for me. You have no idea how good it feels to know that you want me so much you can hardly stand it. That you’re not just humoring me, wanting to get it over with as quickly as possible. ”
He makes a scandalized sound and tugs on my hair until I look at him. His expression is one of utter disbelief.
“You’ve got to be joking.“
“About?”
“There’s no possible way someone would just suffer through sex with you.”
I groan, and have to bury my face in his nape when my cock starts to throb.
“Fuck, little bunny. You really know what to say to make a guy go crazy for you.”
He tugs on my hair again, but I don’t budge this time.
“Tyler, I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“Bullshit.”
A full-bodied laugh rocks through me. This is so unlike Jamie, but I like how worked up and opinionated he’s getting over this.
“If having sex with you was such a bother, you wouldn’t have the likes of Lisa so willing and eager to come over for a quick fuck.”
I’m not laughing anymore. I lift my head, seeking out his eyes. “Jamie—”
“Ugh, I’m sorry.” He hides his face in his palms. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just…I feel so jealous.”
I shouldn’t be happy. I shouldn’t be happy that he can spiral hard and quick because of me. I shouldn’t be happy that I have so much power over him.
Jamie peeks at me through the web of his fingers before his hands drop into his lap.
“What are you smiling about? You think I’m joking?”
“No,” I say quickly, still smiling. I seem unable to stop. “I was thinking how nice it is that someone wants me this much.”
Jamie hesitates, but his scowl comes back. “Stop it already, you’re being ridiculous. Anyone would want you. You know that.”
“Maybe,” I concede, feeling him stiffen in my arms. “For a night, or two. For something easy and temporary. A quick fuck,” I echo back to him. I rest my chin on his chest as I look at him. “That’s not what you want, is it?”
His lips part, and he stares at me, mute.
“It’s not my body you want,” I push. “You want me. The whole package.”
He’s already said so, not in those exact words, but it hits different when he squeezes his eyes shut and whispers a broken, vulnerable, “Yes.”
And I want him. Right here and now. I want to strip him bare and take him apart, knowing that when he cries and pleads, when he trembles and comes, it’s all for me. Only for me.
But communication first. We haven’t had enough of it, which is why we got into this mess in the first place.
I peck him on the lips, keeping it chaste and sweet, a gesture meant to comfort. It does the job. Jamie melts into me, hooping his arms around my neck and drawing me into a hug. I can’t see his face like this, but it should be okay.
“That’s what I’m talking about, little bunny.”
He makes a sound like a whimper, nuzzling my neck. I hug him tight to my chest, wanting to soak up his warmth. The warmth of someone who wants to stay in my life, not just pass through it.
“I still don’t get it,” he admits.
I stroke his back in encouragement.
“Which part?”
“You said you’re not against relationships.”
“That’s right.”
“So how come you’re not with anyone? You clearly…meet a lot of people.” He pulls back, staring at me with big, bewildered eyes. “It’s statistically impossible that none of them would want to date you.”
A laugh bursts out of me, shaking both me and Jamie. “Statistically impossible, he says.”
“I’m serious!”
“I know, I know.” I shake my head, unable to erase my smile.
“Look, you’re not wrong. There have been some requests to go exclusive.
It never worked out for long, though.” I sigh.
To this day, this part is humiliating to talk about.
“This hypersexuality thing is pretty unpredictable. To make a very long story short, the people I went exclusive with overestimated their own sex drive and couldn’t keep up with me.
They eventually got fed up and tired, and ended it themselves.
Sometimes, they’d even share some harsh, parting words with me.
” Which had only solidified my belief that I wasn’t meant for a relationship.
Jamie frowns. “I’m not fed up. You say you’ve only been with me since we started this, and I’m definitely not getting tired of this.”
My smile must be so huge, I’m surprised it doesn’t blind him. “You’re very special, little bunny.”
“Special,” he whispers, and I see something inside him start to break. “Because I’m a slut?”
Ah, shit. I really should think before running my mouth.
I tighten my arms around him in case he’s thinking of slipping away.
“You’re special, because you’re offering me the things I haven’t allowed myself to hope for in a very long time.
” Suddenly feeling raw and exposed, I avert my gaze.
“You’ve seen all of me, including the shameful parts, and you’ve accepted them without hesitation.
Not only that—you showed me that with the right person, I don’t have to worry about hiding and suppressing those parts.
Instead, I can embrace them, act out on them.
“You keep calling yourself needy and desperate, like it’s something to be hidden too, but you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone like you.
Someone to meet me halfway. To take the aspects of me I so greatly despise and say: ‘Hey, I think I’ve been waiting for someone like you. You’ve got exactly what I need.’”
Jamie is suspiciously quiet, so I have to force myself to look at him. My breath catches at the tears glistening in his eyes.
“Tyler…”
“It’s true. And it’s not just about sex either.
” That’s something I really need him to get through that pretty little head of his.
“You know, my family are weird when it comes to hugs, and stuff like that. My sisters included. I’m the outlier.
I don’t know if this need for physical contact, even platonically, is related to my condition, but it leaves me perpetually touch-deprived.
So this?” I try to encompass our current situation, with Jamie in my lap, one clinging onto the other.
“Being all touchy-feely with me when we watch movies? Letting me orbit you when you cook? Your face lighting up when you get home and see me? I’ve been starved for that kind of casual affection my whole life, until you came along. So—”
Jamie surges forward, the unexpected kiss knocking the breath out of me.
I make a startled sound that disappears the second it starts because I’m already kissing him back, trying to pull him closer despite there not being a breath of space between us.
It’s far from the first time we’ve kissed, but it feels different.
Jamie is different. He kisses like he’s been holding back this whole time and finally decided he’s done.
It’s a little messy, a clash of lips and breath and the faint scrape of teeth, but it settles fast into something deeper, something that makes my head spin.
I’m acutely aware of him—of his hand warm against my face, the way he angles his head, the pressure of his mouth, the way my chest feels too tight and too full at the same time.
When we finally pull back, our foreheads still touch, lips brushing together like we’re afraid to let go.
“Yeah,” I murmur, a little dazed, a lot wrecked. “That’s what I’m talking about.”