“His eyes. The way they focus on us when we’re together.”
As the guy who makes a living watching people through a lens, I’m used to spotting these things myself, and I hadn’t noticed.
“You mean while we’re having sex?”
He shakes his head slightly. “That’s not the only time, but that’s how I noticed it. He looks at you the same way you look at me. The same way I’m pretty sure I look at both of you…” he trails off.
“What are you saying?” I squeeze his hand.
“I’m in. I mean out. No more secrets or half-truths. I want a life with you. Both of you. I want to tell him I love you. And I love him.”
“You aren’t afraid he isn’t ready to hear that?”
“After last night…” Blake shakes his head firmly. “No.”
“You’re good with all of it, then? Not just admitting you’re gay but telling people you’re dating two men. Are you ready for that?”
“Are you?” he asks defensively.
“I didn’t grow up here. I don’t have roots here. You do.” I brush a wayward lock of hair away from his face. “You know I’m all in, butpeople here don’t know me from anyone. It won’t bother me if they don’t approve of my lifestyle.”
“Sorry.” Blake exhales heavily. “I didn’t mean to get defensive. It’s just that Iamready. And yeah, I know it’s possible that some people will take issue with it, and of course that’ll hurt. But not as much as missing out on a life with you and Kane. I love you.”
Up until the other day, no one had said that to me before. Now that I’ve heard it, I'm not sure I’ll ever get tired of it.
“I love you, too.”
Leaning forward, I press my lips to Blake’s, a soft, gentle confirmation that my life is bound to his from here forward. It’s not enough.
We’ve only been together, alone, a handful of times since Kane came into the picture, and while I wouldn’t trade our time with him for anything, the truth is I’m holding back a little when Kane is around. I know the goal is to love each other freely and do what feels right in the moment—hell that was my idea—and I think once everything is out in the open that will happen. But since it’s not, I’ve been conscious of not focusing too much on Blake, and I can’t deny that I’ve missed being able to taste him freely. Tilting my head to the side I coax his lips apart, straining to get our mouths as close as possible.
“More,” he groans into me.
Scooting closer, I press our dicks together and wrap my hand around them, stroking rhythmically as our tongues wrestle for dominance. It’s not rough, though not gentle either. His morning shadow scrapes across my skin as his needy lips devour mine, which sets my body on fire.
Breaking away, I rub my jaw against his. “I love the way your stubble feels on my skin.”
“I love the way your cock feels next to mine,” he growls.
“Me, too.” I contract my hand as I slide it over us. “Need you, Blake. I need to be inside you.”
He rolls away and retrieves the lube from the nightstand, tossing it to me as he positions himself on his hands and knees.
“Condom,” I grunt as my slippery fingers play with his hole.
“We used them all last night.” He looks at me over his shoulder. “And I want you bare.”
The air gets sucked out of my lungs as my hand stills against his opening, the magnitude of his words seeping into my soul.
“On your back,” I say softly, pulling away to give him room to flip over. “I want to see you while I’m inside you.”
Our eyes meet and lock, an unspoken promise passing between us. Then he shifts so he’s lying on his back, pulling his knees to his chest as he opens himself to me.
Though we’ve done this before—not just sex but sex in this position—there’s something symbolic about it today. He’s opening himself to me completely, physically and emotionally, which makes this moment more meaningful than any of the other times we’ve come together. This is the start of a new chapter for both of us. One he’s willingly embracing after years of hesitation and uncertainty, and I love him for it.
Coating my dick with the lube I press gently forward, holding my breath until I’m fully seated. When we’re joined completely, I find Blake’s eyes and exhale as I start to thrust, holding his gaze in mine.
The slide of his skin on mine, the pressure of his walls contracting around me is the most delicious friction, begging me to move faster. Harder. But I want to savor this. Savor him.
