KAI
That I like him blowing me shouldn’t be a surprise. I likeblowjobs. Always have. It’s not a revelation to me. But, of course, there’s something stratospherically fuckin’ different about how Joss takes me apart with his mouth, second by second, minute by minute. Maybe it’s the faint stubble he has scratching my thighs. His deep moan as I hit the back of his throat. Or the way his masculine hands hold my hips.
Whatever.
It’s an experience, and I’m here for it, committing every shock and shiver to memory, because Iknowit ain’t gonna last long—I’mnot gonna last long, it’s so goddamn good.
“Fuck.” A harsh noise falls out of me as Joss scrapes his teeth along my shaft. My head thwacks the door, blood pumping, legs shaking. I’m so close to coming, and I don’t care that I’m loud about it. I thought I was done making embarrassing sounds around this dude, but apparently, I’m just getting started.
I groan again, pleasure blistering through me, searing my nerves, leaving charred ash in its wake. I bury my hands in Joss’s hair, twisting the strands around my fingers, and I release with a curse and a hoarse shout astronauts can probably hear from space.
Joss milks my climax, only stopping when I squeeze his shoulder, too wrecked to speak.
He grins and sits back on his heels, his smile filthy as hell, but shining with something that makes me warm all over for nothing remotely fuckin’ sexual. It feels more dangerous than the attraction simmering between us. The desire. I don’t want to be scared of it, I have enough things to be afraid of, but somethin’ wicked flashes inside me all the same.
Something’s changed.
Joss stands. He’s as breathless as me. As flushed. I want to look at his dick, but I can’t. Not because it’s a dick. Because it’shisdick. And that seems to mean more now than it did ten heart-shaking minutes ago.
Nothing’s changed.
My brain bounces between the two scenarios, and time seems to tick by centuries slower than it did when my cock was in Joss’s mouth. Has he altered my existence with his sinful tongue? Or did that happen the split second he walked into my life?
“Hey.” Joss taps my temple. “Stop thinking.”
I take his outstretched hands. “How do I do that?”
“Like this.” Joss brings our clasped hands to chest height and steps closer. I have a couple inches on him, but he presses our foreheads together and makes it work. “Close your eyes.”
I obey without question, and Joss squeezes my fingers harder.
“Feel that?”
“I feel you.”
“Focus on it. On my skin against yours. Then how your feet feel pressed to the floor. The door at your back. Don’t think about anything. Just feel.”
Breathing deep, I do as he says, but it’s harder than it sounds, quieting the noise in my head. The doubts and the fears. They don’t belong there—they’re imposters. I want to fight them, and it takes me a few minutes of abject concentration to realize Joss isn’t asking me to.
I let it go and tap into the lessons I learned before I met him. The therapy, the long nights with Tanner, and the endless insurance questionnaires. All of it made sense before this moment, but I never truly felt it.
Or maybe I never believed it.
I stop thinking. I don’t know how long we stand together, but when I open my eyes, I’m a little more whole than when I closed them.
Joss lets go and steps back. “Meditation, mate. Works every time when we let it.”
“How often do you let it?”
“At least three out of ten.” He tips me a wink and spins around, heading for the kitchen.
I take a second, then I follow to find him staring into the refrigerator.
My gaze flickers to the clock on the stove. It’s late and we haven’t eaten since the vegetable sorcery in the kitchen downstairs. Missing dinner is a bad habit I picked up when I lost the ability to give a shit about myself. But I can’t deny that I’m hungry now.
Ravenous, actually.
I think back to the life I had before this one. I lived alone and I never starved.I can cook, right? Real food?
