by Beth Michele
“I can’t think of a single reason you need to apologize.” I spoke into his hair. “You’ve done nothing but be yourself.”
He sighed. “I guess I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t deliberately keeping my sexuality from you, but it never came up and there didn’t seem to be a reason to bring it up.”
“I know.” My fingers played in the soft strands of his hair. “You need a haircut.”
He lifted his head and his hair fell over his eyes, proving my point. “My mother used to say the same thing. All the time actually. She didn’t like my hair long. Threatened to cut it while I slept.”
I brushed a few pieces away, and it was like pulling back a curtain to reveal an ocean. “You must really miss her.”
“I do. She was so much of what was good in my life.”
He hid then, dropping his head to my chest. Emotion flared inside of me and I was glad he couldn’t see it playing out on my face. I knew he didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him. Although that wasn’t close to what I was feeling.
“What about your friends?” I asked, not realizing I was stroking his hair, trying to soothe him the only way I knew how. “You mentioned something about Joe earlier?”
“Joe, yeah, even though he was more like a role model to me. But actual friends? I have a few from work. But growing up, the friends I had were more friends of circumstance, meaning we bonded over shitty experiences. There was Stitch, but he disappeared right after he got out of rehab.”
“Stitch?”
His laughter was tainted with sadness. “Yeah. Such a hard ass, he was. Called him stitch because he always had ripped clothes and his family was pretty poor, so his mother used to sew the holes with different colored thread.”
“That’s… wow.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, but my heart broke for his friend. Growing up the way I did, I wasn’t lacking for anything—except maybe human decency from my peers.
“Hey, we had to laugh about something. We were all dirt poor. I mean, sometimes I honestly look back and wonder how I got to where I am. There were many times where I thought I’d never get out of there.”
A protectiveness enveloped me and I pulled him closer. The vision of Drew as a little boy in substandard living conditions made my chest ache. “So how did you?”
“My grandfather,” he replied, so much appreciation in his tone it washed away his earlier comment. “My mom’s father, he left it to me in a trust for when I turned eighteen. She always told me she wanted me to have a better life than she did, and I never understood it until I got older.” Bitterness crept into his voice. “Even though he and my mother didn’t have a good relationship, he was smart. He knew by doing it that way my father couldn’t get his hands on it. Because if he had, he would’ve left me with nothing.”
“I’m sorry.”
He raised his head and I was surprised to see him smiling. “It’s all good. Really. It is what it is. I’ve accepted it.”
I frowned, and Drew pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. It did wonders for my state of mind. His lips grazed my jaw before he settled back against my chest.
“My mom had this saying. Actually, it was a new take on an old one. ‘When life gives you lemons, you stomp the shit out of them and make your own damn lemonade.’”
“I like that.” A contented sigh drifted into the air between us. I couldn’t tell if it was his or mine. “It’s funny, I grew up in a town that had so much money they didn’t know what to do with it. And all it did was make people entitled pricks. I never cared how much money someone had. If you’re an asshole, you’re an asshole.”
“True that.” I felt his smile against my shoulder. “When I first met you, I thought you were an entitled prick.”
“And I thought you were angry and juvenile.”
He snorted. “Liar. You thought I was cute. I saw you checking me out.”
“Did you now?”
Pushing up with his arm, he met my gaze head on. “Hell yes.”
God, he was completely irresistible. That cocky smile. Those deep blue eyes. I caught a second wind and leaned up to kiss him, his mouth opening above mine. My tongue slipped between his lips and I was greeted by his wet warmth. He felt amazing, and he tasted even better. Like that first drop of cool rain that landed on your skin in the heat of summer. He awakened something inside of me. Something I didn’t realize I was missing. But now, didn’t want to go without.
My boxers could barely cage my arousal. Between Drew’s damp tongue circling mine, and the way his hand slid around to cup my neck, I was hard again. There was no question I wanted him. But I didn’t want to go too fast. After all, the two of us had just gotten out of other relationships. Although nothing about Drew and me together felt like a rebound. I’d never shared this level of intensity with anyone else—including Glenn.
Drew hummed against my lips before he eased out of my mouth, peppering kisses down the edge of my jaw. “I… I want you so much,” he whispered. His words were strained as if they were difficult to say. I sensed his desire, but also something else. Apprehension maybe? What he revealed about his encounters with other guys popped into my mind, twisting me up inside. It wasn’t the quantity of men he’d been with that bothered me, it was the fact it meant absolutely nothing. I didn’t want him thinking that’s what this was about for me. I found myself wanting to be careful with him—with his heart. I had a strong feeling it was more fragile than he was letting on, and I didn’t want to shatter it.
His kisses subsided and he nuzzled my neck. I sighed into his hair, fingertips lightly tracing the patterns of ink along his arm. “I want you too. But I think we should take our time, you know? Plus, there’s something I want more right now.” Drew tilted his head back, uncertainty blazing in his eyes. “I want you to stay with me. Will you… stay?”
His face lit up, lips bending into a breathtaking smile. “Yeah. I will.”
ONE WORD. STAY.
For the second time last night, Sam managed to steal the breath from my lungs. All it took was one syllable. Such a simple fucking word—to anyone else but me. It marked the first time anyone wanted me to hang around. Didn’t just want to fuck and discard me like yesterday’s trash.
And the worst part— I’d always felt like trash. Screwing random guys to get back at my dad then expecting them to want me to hang around. How fucked up was that? But those days were done and I wasn’t that person anymore.
Still, being vulnerable didn’t come easy to me. Never had. But with Sam, he made me want to shed that protective shell I’d honed since I was fourteen years old. Made me want to peel it away layer by layer. Maybe if I could, I’d find hope again.
I glanced over at Sam. I’d been watching him all night. Reaching out to make sure he was still there. Which was fucking crazy because this was his room. But I was worried this was all a dream, so I’d barely closed my eyes. Needing to make sure some part of me was touching some part of him. Unable to get close enough. I wanted to crawl underneath his skin.
Rolling on my side, I studied him. His short, light brown hair messy from sleep. The small freckle above his full upper lip. Those darker lashes ghosting over his cheeks. He was the complete opposite of the guys I was normally attracted to—harder-edged, tattooed muscular types. The ones who spent way too much time in the gym. But who was I kidding? I was drawn to those guys for one reason only.
The urge to piss dragged me from my overactive brain. I pulled the covers back and quietly slid off the bed, not wanting to wake Sam. On the way to the bathroom, I passed his closet and paused, noticing he had everything arranged by color… even his shoes. I cringed, thinking about the way I shoved my shit in drawers when I’d arrived. Stuff like that was never important to me.
The bathroom was bright, a skylight forcing the sun into my eyes before I was ready. I squinted my way to the toilet and released my dick from the confines of my boxers. Needing to hold it down since I was fully erect. Morning wood wasn’t unusual, but waking up beside Sam made me h
ard as a fucking pole.
After flushing the toilet, I turned toward the sink to wash my hands. Eyes finally open, I looked around, stunned. We’d been here over a week now, and his bathroom appeared as if it had never been used. Not once.
Lined up on one side of the sink were three tubes of Crest toothpaste, two toothbrushes, and two packages of dental floss. To the right of those items were two sticks of deodorant and three razors in their sealed packages. Everything was perfect. Too perfect almost. The kind of perfect where you want to knock something out of place. But I’d never do that. Certainly not to Sam.
My thoughts bounced around, recalling the silverware incident at the table. I wondered why he had such a need to have everything in order. I knew there were various conditions where that existed but wasn’t sure if any of those related to Sam.
Putting it out of my head, I padded across the room, feet folding themselves into the plush carpet. Sam was still fast asleep, and my mouth slanted upward at the sight. His lips formed a lazy smile. One arm lifted above his head while the other rested along his side. The sheet was partially kicked off and my eyes drifted to a hint of skin peeking out. I pictured dragging my tongue over all that smooth flesh. And just like that, my dick was rock hard again.
Quietly, I eased back into bed and sat up beside him. Sam stirred, cracking one eye open. A slow smile spread across his face when he saw me. Even fresh from sleep he looked sexy as fuck.
“You’re still here.” A pinch of doubt laced his words, but he covered it with more. “Have you been up long?”
I shrugged. “A little while.”
“How’d you sleep?”
Trying hard to keep my expression neutral, I replied, “I would’ve slept better if you hadn’t been snoring.”
He feigned offense, jabbing a single finger against his chest. “Me? I don’t snore.”
“Yes, you fucking do.”
In a move I didn’t see coming, Sam had me flat on my back. He pinned my wrists above my head and pressed the weight of his body into mine. “No, I fucking don’t.”
Sam got so holier than thou that I burst out laughing. He narrowed his gaze a fraction before we were both in hysterics. But then our laughter evaporated, and the feeling of his warm, bare chest penetrated my brain and my cock. My breathing changed, heavy and loud in the space between us. When my tongue flicked out to dampen my lips, his eyes were drawn there.
“I like hearing you say the word fuck. It’s hot, Sam,” I admitted, and that was all I got out before he attacked my lips. The firm pressure of his hot mouth and his hips made me arch up, seeking more. Heat from his erection seeped through his boxers as it lined up with mine and the urge to grind against him was strong. I wrapped my legs around his ass, anchoring him to my body. Someone taking charge sexually was new for me, but with Sam, I didn’t find it awkward. I liked it—a whole fucking lot.
Sam took possession of our kiss and when he finally gained entrance into my mouth and the tips of our tongues touched, it was like a fucking explosion. He let go of my hands and I wound my arms around his shoulders as he rocked against me. His cock was ridiculously hard, the thickness of it pushing up against my balls. It made me insane, wishing we were naked so I could feel him skin to skin.
He plunged his tongue further into my mouth as I held him to me. Draping my hands behind his neck, fingers delving into his hair. This was a hungrier Sam, and I liked this side of him. I liked all his sides.
Our kiss seemed to go on and on until Sam eventually broke us apart. His breathing was rapid, lips swollen. But that didn’t stop him from licking along my jaw, down the hollow of my neck, across my chest. A faint, tangy scent flew under my nose and I squeezed my eyes shut to the pleasure of it all. My senses were on fucking overload and I couldn’t get enough of him.
“So good,” I groaned. The sound was raw and uninhibited but I didn’t care. I was probably going to come in my underwear like a fucking teenager anyway. And when he twisted my nipple at the same time he bit down lightly on my shoulder, I did. I dug my fingertips into his scalp and came like a fucking freight train.
He didn’t stop rubbing up against me and I sensed he was close to his own release. I wanted to take him over the edge. Before it was too late, I shifted the position of my arms and moved them around his waist. I grabbed his ass and squeezed, grinding him back and forth over my still semi-hard cock. Sam groaned, picking up speed. He threw his head back, lips parted, as his fingers twisted into the sheets. It was different seeing him like this, letting loose with wild abandon.
“Drew.” Sam grunted, dropping his head against my shoulder. All I heard for endless minutes was the sound of his ragged breathing. After too much time elapsed and he still wasn’t saying anything, my mind started playing tricks on me. Maybe he thought this was all a mistake.
“Sam?” When he raised his chin, his face flushed a deep shade of red. He stared at the headboard behind me. “Sam, look at me.” Another minute crept by before his gaze found mine. It was impossible to read his expression.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Please tell me you’re not apologizing for—”
“I got a little crazy. You… make me a little crazy. I mean…” The color on his cheeks darkened. “I’m twenty-nine years old and I just came in my boxers like—”
“I did too. So what. Who the fuck cares? There’s no one here but us.” I grinned. “The most important thing is that it felt amazing… to me,” I added, not wanting to put words in his mouth.
“Me too.” He finally smiled. “By the way, I thought you slept in the buff.”
“I do, but,” I shrugged, “I guess you made me forget myself.”
“I know the feeling.” He leaned in to kiss me, staying close to my lips when he spoke. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered. His words didn’t register. I mean, I understood what he was saying, but he had to be talking about someone else. My eyes suddenly itched and it had nothing to do with lack of sleep. The control I required to keep myself sane was slipping. I needed the mask in place to just fucking survive.
Sam inched back and I offered him a wry smile. “I don’t know, but you can get as crazy with me as you want.” I held my arms out. “Have at it.” My attempt to use humor to deflect always worked to my advantage. Not this time. Sam exhaled a sigh, like maybe that wasn’t the response he was hoping for. But I certainly couldn’t offer him something I didn’t believe in.
He rolled off of me. It was quick and abrupt, and I knew I’d stung him. My stomach knotted. It was the last thing I wanted to do, yet I couldn’t stop myself from doing it. “I’m going to take a shower.” His words were icy, and they cut into me harder than I’d expected.
The bathroom door was about to close when I called out to him. “Sam.” Without turning around, he paused. I didn’t want to talk to his back, but it was probably what I deserved. “I’m not very good at this and I don’t… I don’t…” Jesus, I sounded like a blubbering fucking idiot. “I don’t have much experience with this sort of thing. But I can say for sure that I don’t want to screw this up. And I think I’m screwing it up fucking royally right now.”
Sam’s shoulders heaved before he wheeled around, keeping his hand on the doorframe. The wind had gone out of his sails, his annoyance left behind. “You’re not screwing anything up, Drew. We’ve known each other for one week. I shouldn’t be expecting anything. We’re having a good time. Let’s just leave it at that.”
His words should’ve made me ecstatic. He gave me a way out. Except I didn’t want one. I wanted to figure out a way in. Everything inside of me was so conflicted and I wished I had someone to talk to about it. But the one person I truly needed to talk to was gone.
This sucked. But I was never one to feel sorry for myself. And I wasn’t about to start now. Instead, I was going to buck the fuck up and take my medicine like the supposed grown-up that I was.
“Sure,” I finally responded, and Sam dished out a half-smile before closing the door behind him.
I was so mixed up, I couldn’t even tell if it was genuine.
The insecure part of me wanted to bust down the door and nail him against the shower wall. Show him with my body what I couldn’t express with my words. But fucking him like a savage was not going to give him what he needed—or what I wanted.
So I did what was instinctual for me. I grabbed my shit, yanked my clothes on, and got the fuck out of there.
I DIDN’T EXPECT Drew to be there when I finished my shower. But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped he would be. It was probably for the best, though. This whole thing was getting out of hand—on my part anyway.
Drew made me desperate. He twisted me up inside. It was foreign and uncomfortable, and I didn’t know what to do with all this emotion. Maybe my original assumption had been wrong. Perhaps this was just a rebound. A reaction to Glenn dumping me. But I’d rarely thought about Glenn. I wasn’t concerned about how he was or what he was doing. And I certainly wasn’t thinking about another chance with him.
Inside, when everything was quiet, I felt it. Glenn not showing up was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because it led me to Drew.
With a towel wrapped tightly around my waist, I paced the room. Not knowing what to do with all this pent-up energy. I felt like a balloon that was about to pop and needed to do something to calm myself down.
After digging through the drawer for a fresh pair of boxers, I slammed it closed and sat on the bed. But my eyes kept finding their way back, and a few seconds later I breathed out a relieved sigh when everything was folded into neat little squares.
My computer was still on the desk, untouched, and I sank into the chair to power it up, trying and failing to write more than five sentences in a half hour. Staring at the screen blankly. But my heart wasn’t in my story. It was somewhere else.
