The achy pangs of sweet, sweet affection in my chest won’t stop, and I don’t wantthem to.
Then, when I think this can't get any better, he rolls over and wraps himself around me.
Okay, I think this is what being a puddle feels like because I'mmeltedright now. Holy shit, I must have been asaintin my past life to deserve this. I might be a natural big spoon, but being all wrapped up in someone scratches a certain kind of intimate itch in my brain for which substitutes don’t exist.
Like the total sap I am, I rotate myself and maneuver my head up to kiss his forehead. Callum lets out some kind of half-asleep mumble, and the sound goes to two places: my heart and my dick.
Sheesh. My mind fills with pure filth whenever I so much as remember he exists, and it's not like he's totally innocent either, not with how hot he sounded when I was going down on him an hour ago. If he lets me be as freaky as I want with him, I'm gonna have to start wearing my knee pads at home.
Okay, Ian. Calm down.
On one hand, I know it's a good idea to take things nice and slow with Callum, let him come to me when he's ready, and not go over the top. He hasn’t told methatmuch about his past, and the last thing I need to do is feed into unhealthy coping mechanisms.
On the other hand, he’s in therapy. That sure counts for a lot.
Oh, and helikesme. He said so himself, and as for me? I never knew I could miss something before experiencing it, but after holding Callum in my arms and knowing what the reverse feels like, I don’t know how I was ever satisfied before.
Holy hell, I’m so gone for him, and it hasn’t even been a full day since we first kissed.
I sink deeper into the couch and let out a massive sigh, a grin spreading across my lips. When I like someone, Ilikesomeone—I don't know if I've ever wanted someone this much, and I’d be a massive liar if I didn’t admit how amazing that makes me feel. Callum is the first guy in way too long who hasn’t given me crap for being affectionate. That sure isn’t lost on me, and there’s no way I’ll mess this up, not if I have any say in it.
As soon as I’m about to fall asleep myself, Callum’s body jerks,jolting both of us fully awake. His sleepy, captivating eyes open slowly, and once again, I can't notice anything other than his long-ass eyelashes. I'm surprised he doesn't make the wind pick up every time he blinks.
“Did you sleep well?” I ask.
He stretches, yawning and releasing a strained noise from his throat. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles, curling back around me. “I napped so hard, I’m all tired out.”
I snort, and he devolves into laughter at the sound. For someone who's so quiet most of the time, his loud, carefree laughs are always a sweet surprise.
“Are you too tired for dinner?” I ask. “I can order Italian from the place downstairs again.”
My offer is met with a slow, appreciative nod, and I sit down next to him for what I intend to be a quick kiss.
The millisecond my lips brush his, I can't drag myself away. I meet his clear, enchanting eyes for a second before closing my own, and I press harder into his mouth, letting Callum slip his tongue between my teeth.
Screw being quick. I could do this forever.
Yup, I've had ten hits off Callum's lips, and I'm already hooked. He should come with an advisory label the way nicotine does.Warning: Contains Callum. Callum is a highly addictive man. Consume at risk of being consumed yourself.
His stomach growling breaks the moment, activating my provider instincts like I'm a sleeper agent, and I pull back a little too quickly. He blinks at me as if I betrayed him, and I use all of my willpower to take my phone out and order pasta instead of choosing to eat a very different kind of noodle for dinner—the kind that's best served extra, extra al dente and is availablenow,not in twenty minutes.
That twenty-minute wait passes in a flash, though, because I spend it making out with Callum while his heavy body pins me to the couch. He gets a little feisty, and his instincts are fuckingprimalbecause he tries to give me, like, a hundred hickeys, but he's easily distracted by my mouth when I align it with his.
We groan in tandem when my phone beeps, and I'm filled with regret over not paying extra for delivery, even though the restaurant is in my building.
“Don't you dare go anywhere,” I say, reluctantly unpeeling myself from Callum when he nudges into me for a peck. “I'll be right back.”
Downstairs, I wait for the cashier to find our order, and I stand off to the side and wait with my hands in my pockets. In Callum’s absence, the gravity of what went down starts to sink in.
I’m his first…everything. I’ve been a few peoples’ firsts before, but those times were different. There’s something else between us beyond late-night hookup feels, or at least I hope there is, given that I’m already down bad for him. That, and the fact that he had a messed-up childhood, leading to him having more nerves than my fingertips.
From one guy-loving-guy to another, it's on me to help him out. It's a responsibility to a baby gay.
A skyscraping baby gay with chest hair.
Still, he’s in a fragile place. I can only imagine what's going through his head, so I do the unthinkable and applylogic.
We hooked up, he liked it, and he might like other things.
