* * *
“It’s green, so you have to eat it.” Joe set a plate on my desk, eyeing the sandwich like it was an unexploded bomb. “And I used that weird protein bread you stashed in your cupboard.”
“Um... thanks, I think?” I drew the plate towards me. Sandwiched between the keto bread was a sliced hardboiled egg, what looked like houmous, and some raw kale—stalks and all. “What are you bringing me sandwiches for at this time of night?”
Joe shrugged. “Why not? I just ate a packet of Haribo, so...”
“You’re a sugar fiend.”
“Only because I’ve cut the fags down. I’d rather have a smoke than a bag of Tangfastics, but what you gonna do?”
Both vices were a mystery to me, but I held my tongue. Joe’s days had been crazy as he’d caught up with work on the farm, and I’d got away with dodging meals. But it was late now, and he was in for the night, which meant that it had only been a matter of time before he’d come looking for me.
Not that I was complaining. The sandwich looked... interesting, and beyond that, I was pleased to see him. We slept together every night, but he was gone at dawn most mornings, and chasing my deadline had started to keep me busy well into most evenings.
I missed him.
And with his dry grin finally soaking into my soul, eating the strangest sandwich I’d ever seen didn’t seem so bad.
Joe perched on the edge of my desk but didn’t watch me eat. Instead he peered at my work, frowning as he read my words under his breath. “I don’t get you.”
“You don’t get me? What’s that got to do with mindfulness in the city?”
“Everything. You’re talking about how people should be kind to themselves, but that doesn’t fit with how you treat yourself.”
“It’s my job, mate. Not an autobiography.”
“Yeah, but you don’t say stuff you don’t mean. That’s why I don’t get it.”
With anyone else, the food in my belly would’ve turned to dust, but Joe had a way of saying things that made me think beyond my own harmful behaviours. “If it had been George who’d been kicked by Shadow, telling him to stay home and rest would’ve been much easier for you than trying to take care of yourself has been.”
“George isn’t responsible for the farm.”
“No, but he’s responsible for himself.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
He had a point. I mentally crossed the words out and searched for replacements, but after twelve hours of typing, none came to mind. Besides, I knew exactly what Joe was saying—I just didn’t want to hear it.
I shut my laptop and ran my gaze over him. He’d ditched my clothes since he’d returned to work and was back in his weathered jeans, but he’d claimed one of my hoodies as his own and rarely took it off now the summer heat had gone. I wound the cords around my fingers and tugged him closer. Kissing him was effortless and made the itch in my bones easier to ignore.
We found our way to the bed like we did most nights when we caught each other awake. Joe lay beneath me, submissive in a way he never was outside of this room, and I made short work of stripping him. His body was glorious—long and lean and hard in all the right places. His hands were rough from farm graft, but the rest of him was hypnotically smooth, and I lost myself tracing every inch of him with my tongue.
Beneath me, he gasped and arched up. A week ago, the movement would’ve made him wince, but not now. Now, his eyes were bright with arousal, not pain, and I wanted to fuck him so much my cockhurt.
I shed my own clothes and tossed them somewhere over my shoulder. Then I fell forwards, dropping my palms either side of his head, and grazed his lips with mine. “I’ve been looking forward to getting naked all day.”
Joe smirked. “Me too. I had to think of my grandma when I was riding Mani, or I’d have hurt myself.”
“You’ve been riding?”
That was new to me, and my heart warred between concern that he was pushing himself too soon and relief that he was back where he belonged.
Relief won out. He’d once told me that fucking wasn’t that different to riding a horse, and if the scenes flashing through my mind played out, I had nothing to worry about. I dipped my head for another ruining kiss, then evaded his hands to slide back down his body. Joe had become an instant master at driving me insane with his mouth on my dick, but somehow, I’d yet to return the favour.
That was about to change. I bit his hip to distract him and then swallowed him whole, holding him to the bed as he reared up, digging my fingers into his lean thighs. His groans sent shivers down my spine as I slid his cock down my throat, and I stared up at him, revelling in his reddened cheeks and blown pupils.Thiswas the Joe I craved when my mind was filled with nothing but him. When the memory of him shirtless and riding wasn’t enough. In his unique way, he was as guarded as me, but not when we were like this.
Not when his dick straining and pulsing in my mouth was all there was.
