I nod.
Mark gives more instructions to both of us. I’m still slightly flustered as I try to listen and spot where I spilled my load so I can discreetly cover it. I’m sure Oxley’s memorized all the instructions anyway.
Eventually, Mark leaves, and I let out a breath. Oxley stands at the edge of the bed, watching me. “Why are you in distress?”
“He could see where I came on this bed!”
His smile is nearly blinding. “You’re lying on that spot, so no, he couldn’t. It’s cute that you think he doesn’t know.” He gently taps my chest, and I look down to see streaks of dried cum. My cheeks heat all over again. Yep, there’s no way he didn’t know. I want to crawl under the bed.
“I’m sorry,” Oxley says. “I should have cleaned you. It was irresponsible and inconsiderate of me not to.”
I sigh. “It’s fine. He’s nice enough to pretend not to notice.”
Oxley’s smile hasn’t faded. “Mark’s a good guy.”
“He says the same about you.”
Oxley tilts his head to the side, his smile softening. “That’s nice to know. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I expect him to bring me into the bathroom, but he retreats on his own and returns with a warm cloth. He cleans the now-dried cum off my torso, and then his hand slips into my shorts as he washes my dick. Which, by the way, is ready for him to keep touching. His eyes meet mine, and I can see the heat there.
When he’s done with my front, he leans back and considers me. “So… is this a good time to bring up that I didn’t wear a condom?”
My stomach flutters. I knew that. I could tell, especially after, when I felt his load dripping out of me. “Why didn’t you?” I ask, knowing I should be furious and afraid. Somehow, I’m just… not.
8
OXLEY
I chewthe inside of my lip while I arrange my thoughts. I’m not sure he’s going to appreciate my response. “They were too far away,” I say.
I’m carefully watching his face. His eyebrows raise, creating lines on his forehead. “Where are they?”
“In the hall closet,” I say. “By the front door.”
The surprise is cute. “That’s… why?”
“The only time I use them is when I’m not home. I don’t bring anyone home. Ever. So…” I shrug. “I have no use for them in here. And I didn’t want to go get one because I was afraid you’d change your mind.”
I’ve grown up perplexed by facial expressions. I’ve learned to live with rarely knowing or understanding how to read what another person is feeling. But right now, I’d give anything for a little insight.
“Come here,” Huntley says. I climb onto the bed, mindful of his leg. He reaches for me and pulls me down onto his chest. I’mstiff because I’m not sure what he needs right now, but I can’t help pressing my face into his skin and just breathing him in.
“I’m not changing my mind,” he says quietly.
“I want to keep you,” I blurt and then wince. Fucksake, Oxley!
“What does that mean?” Huntley asks.
I swallow the doubt that’s lodged in my throat like a golf ball and force myself to shift over him. I rest my forearms on either side of his head so I’m looking down at him, and I can see his entire face clearly. Not that it’ll help.
“I want to keep you,” I repeat. “Here with me. To take care of you and give you things. I want to lose myself in your body and make you feel good. I want to see you smile and know I put it there. I want you to be mine. But… I want you to want that, too.”
He searches my face as he chews his lip. “You don’t really know me,” he says quietly. “How are you so sure that’s what you want? You might hate me next week or next year.”
“I think I knew when I first saw you,” I say. “And it’s more likely that you’ll hate me. I’ve been told I’m very difficult to be around for long periods.”
The way his face scrunches tells me he’s either upset about something or… confused. “Come here,” Huntley whispers and pulls my face to his. His lips are soft when they touch mine. “I have a feeling I’m going to hate learning how people have treated you,” he says.
