“This is all I have,” he says.
“That’ll do for now.” I start sucking the skin between his ear and his collarbone, smelling the scent of his shampoo.
“Harrison, I don’t have any more supplies here.”
“Bathroom?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I don’t have any supplies either because I assumed if we got to this stage, it would be either at my place or his.
“We’ll improvise. I’m sure there’s a hundred things we can do that don’t require condoms.” I keep kissing his skin as I move down his body.
He’s suddenly gone quiet, so I stop. “What’s up?”
His blue eyes look at me straight on. “I need you to know that the reason I don’t have any supplies here is…um…because I’ve never brought anyone here…you know…for sex…”
19
FLETCHER
Harrison stares at me,and I don’t know what he’s thinking.
Have I fucked this up already? Why didn’t I keep my mouth shut?
“Fletcher, open your eyes.”
I do, not realizing I’ve closed them, and meet his gaze. In the flickering light of the fireplace, Harrison is like a romantic dream. His weight on me feels so good I want to cry and beg for more.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“What?”
“You heard me. I respect what you’re sharing with me, but I can see you told me that because of how I’ve behaved toward you. I’m sorry about that. I was a dick.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He smiles. “You don’t need to say anything. Tonight can be whatever we want it to be. Just know that whatever made you bring me here tonight, I’m glad you did.”
I kiss him again, and his gentle touch makes my skin burn for more.
“So, we have one condom. What do we do?” I ask.
“Throw a coin? Winner gets to pick.”
I hit his arm and hook my leg around his, flipping us over so I’m on top.
“No way. You’ve been teasing me with that big dick for long enough. I’m gonna taste it and then I’m going to swallow it with my ass.”
“What a visual.”
We laugh, and it feels that we’re back on track. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never been this…emotionally charged.
Whatever it is, I don’t want to think about it. I run my hands over Harrison’s chest.
He sucks in a breath when I pinch his nipples, bucking his hips as though they’re directly connected.
“These are expensive-looking boxer shorts,” I tease. “You can model them for me in the morning when you’re cooking me breakfast, but they need to go now.”
