“No point.”
Jag chuckled against his lips. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Michael reached for the lube and squeezed some onto his finger, which he slid inside Jag as he stroked his back with his other hand.
Jag hissed in a breath as he twisted and arched his back in a combination of delight and discomfort. “Not sure I can dothatagain.”
“Then fuck me,” Michael replied huskily. “You’ve made me hard again, and I want you, whatever way you’d like it.”
“I could take you here.” He slowly writhed around Michael’s finger, kissing the man again. His breathing was degenerating into needy pants. Whatever they did, he doubted he’d last long.
“You only brought one condom,” Michael pointed out, pushing his finger deeper.
Jag’s head rolled back. A primal groan ripped out of his throat. He was helpless, unable to resist. His body moved of its own accord, thrusting against Michael’s finger. He wasn’t sure how long Michael pleasured him. He was too far gone to worry about seconds or minutes. He only knew he was on the brink again, nothing but thoughts of Michael flowing through his mind. Then Michael slipped his finger out and dragged Jag to him, crushing him against his broad chest.
“Upstairs,” Michael croaked out before mashing his lips against Jag’s.
“You sure?” Jag breathed, not really wanting to move at all.
“Yeah.” He nudged Jag, encouraging him to stand.
Jag obeyed, half laughing, half crying out as Michael stood and swept him up into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Carrying you.” Michael grinned.
A few weeks ago, hell, even a few days ago, Jag would never have let anyone hold him in such a vulnerable position. But he felt safe and comfortable in Michael’s arms, so he relaxed and let his lover carry him.
“You’re amazing, do you know that?” Michael asked, his voice soft and his eyes dewy.
“No.” Jag chewed his lip for a moment. “But I think I’m starting to believe it.”
20Michael
They had a forty-five-minute break before the next exercise class, so they sat on the edge of the stage, eating the sandwiches Michael had prepared.
“You seem distracted,” Mac said.
Michael sighed. “Last night, Jag told me he loved me.”
Mac’s head snapped round to stare at him. “You’re definitely not doing the no-strings thing anymore, then?”
“No.”
“Okay…so why do you look as if your world is ending?”
Michael stared down at the half-eaten sandwich in his hand. “I didn’t say it back.”
“Ah.” Mac took a bite of his sandwich, chewing and swallowing before replying. “You don’t feel the same way?”
“I think I might.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I haven’t felt this way about anyone since Edward.” His shoulders slumped. “And he’s leaving.”
“Who? Jag? When?”
“I don’t know. Probably sooner rather than later.” He didn’t want to think about when Jag would leave; it was too painful.
