Hopper’s grin is telling.
I chew on my thumbnail. “So, like, if I happen to know Erik’s a super demanding top, it’s okay that I really, really want him to boss me around and dominate me a bit…?”
“Totally normal and healthy. At least, according to Hedy.”
“How weird is it that we have the same therapist?”
“Not weird at all. How many people are like us?” he asks, rather reasonably.
“Not many,” I say, grinning at my friend. I fuss with my coffee, adding a bit more sugar. “So…how do you think I should go about convincing him to stop ignoring this thing between us?”
“Easy. You still get horny when you kill someone?”
“Fuck yes.”
“Tell him you’re going to go with one of Luca’s escorts after our little murder-fest tonight, and that’ll take care of it.”
“You think?”
“The way he looked at you all last night? No way in hell he lets one of Luca’s guys touch you.”
The thought of Erik being jealous…yeah, that’s sexy.
“Hey, Hop? You ever think what would have happened if you’d been one of Luca’s guys instead of where you ended up?”
“Hell yeah. Why do you think Luca is so good with his people? Sure, he wanted to do better than our father, but when he realized what’d happened to me, he doubled down.”
“Luca’s a good man,” I observe, my emotions a mix of sad and grateful.
“He is. And we are too.”
I hold out my fist and Hop bumps it. “Alright. Let’s plan out how we’re gonna kill these motherfuckers.”
10
ERIK
When we got to Hopper’s apartment last night, it was all I could do to stop myself from pulling Ant into my arms. And I could not have been more conflicted when he stripped down to his underwear and got in bed with me like it was nothing.
Slide off those briefs, baby. Let me taste you. Fill you. Make you come for me.
I mean, sure. I love how he’s so comfortable with me now, but it’s pure fucking torture.
Let me make you feel safe. Wanted.
I down the bear claw in the elevator before hitting the lobby, then step onto the busy Manhattan sidewalk. After checking the phone strapped to my arm, I head for Central Park. It’s a bright, sunny day, but the morning isn’t too hot or muggy, a miracle for New York in the summer.
I’ve jogged through the Ramble before, so I don my earbuds and start out on the twisty path, letting it take me away from the sounds of the city. I try to focus on the nice weather and the pretty scenery, but my mind keeps taking me back to last night.
Ant fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and I couldn’t help but watch him breathe. I would’ve been happy to lovingly gaze at him all night—which is ridiculous enough—but then he shifted in his sleep, snuggling up against me. He’s so small that rolling him away from me would have been easy, but I didn’t want to.
Pulling him closer immediately solved my insomnia, even if it did heighten everything else. He slept all night with his head on my chest, his palm spread out on my belly, and one of his legs wrapped around mine.
I woke with his morning wood pressing into my side. Wishing I could inhale his sleepy erection, I instead gently rolled him away from me so I could go to the bathroom and take care of my raging hard-on.
Thinking about it now, I stifle my reaction, not wanting to jog with a boner in the middle of Central Park. I make the loop twice and still feel conflicted and fuzzy. Finding a free bench, I drop onto it and pull my cell phone from the armband.
Me:I might be in trouble as far as Ant is concerned.
