“This is your place?” he asks. I nod.
“Margo got it for me for a steal, too. Seriously, that woman is the best realtor on the planet. I swear.”
He stares up at the building and I point to the top floor, to the large window.
“Big window. That’s me.”
Cam doesn’t say anything. He lets out a deep breath, and I start to feel the nerves building again.
“You, uh… want to come up? Check it out?” I ask, the words simple, but much heavier than anything else I’ve said. “We can hang out. Have a drink. I can whip up some dessert, maybe? Or we can watch some Netflix, or—”
“Hell yes,” Cam says with a grin that makes my damn cock twitch as he looks back at me. “I’d love to.”
Chapter Fifty
Cameron
I feel like at this point in my life, and this entire back and forth with Austen, it’s do or die. I’m done wasting time. Maybe it’s presumptuous to think he’s inviting me up to his apartment for more than just looking at it, but that’s what I’m going with. The way the night has gone, the dinner, movie, the way he looks at me, our history? It all points in the right direction. And if it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it’s probably a fucking duck.
I don’t know where this will go with Austen. I don’t know if it’s a tonight-only thing, or if it’ll turn into a friends with benefits thing, or if maybe…maybewe will finally get our chance at a happily ever after. But I refuse, absolutely refuse, to give up this time.
We step inside his apartment.
“So, this is—”
I grab his face, kissing him deeply and walking him backwards until he hits the wall. He lets out a grunt, his hands coming up to grab my face and holds me still so he can kiss me back just as fiercely. My face burns from coming in from the cold, my lips a little numb, but they’ll warm up soon enough.
“Please tell me this is what you meant,” I breathe out, pressing my forehead to his.
“No,” he says with a shake of his head. My stomach drops, my spine stiffening.
I misread this… all of it. How the hell did I misread this?
“This is what I meant,” he says, reaching for the zipper of my jacket and undoing it, then slipping it off my shoulders. It falls to the ground and he goes for my shirt, pulling it up. His fingers are cold against my hot skin, but I try not to flinch away from him. I’ve missed his touch way too much, no matter how cold they are.
I snap out of my shock and my temporary fears, then go back at Austen just as hard as he’s coming at me. I tear his clothes off, and before I know it, we’re both naked. He moves to drop to his knees, but I stop him.
“No way,” I say, pressing him against the wall. He hisses, the wall is probably freezing. “Not that this is in any way an apology, but I do owe you one.”
“Cameron—” I cut him off by taking his dick in my mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, head thumping against the wall. His hand comes up to spear through my hair, holding me in place as he slowly thrusts into my mouth.
I missed the way he tastes, the way he feels, the way he smells. Fuck, I just missed him. Austen, my best fucking friend. The man I am so ridiculously in love with and have been for as longas I can remember. It used to suck, but hey, maybe this time it won’t be so bad.
I massage his balls as I take him deeply, letting him have his way with my mouth, reveling in the sounds he makes for me.
I release him, stroking him slowly. “Do you want to fuck me?”
“Later,” he grits out, fingers tightening in my hair. “Want your mouth right now. I’m already close, Cam. Make me come.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Knowing he’s close, I double down and pull out all the moves to have him releasing down my throat in seconds. He slides down the wall to catch his breath, and I move to sit beside him, my dick achingly hard. The room is filled with our panting, the scent of him and a lingering smell of something sweet. Like maybe he had baked something recently.
“Fuck,” Austen says with a little laugh, rolling his head to look at me. I smile back at him. His eyes sparkle and then he moves between my legs, spreading them wide and dropping to take my dick into his mouth.
“Damn, Austen,” I growl. “Fuck.”
He deepthroats me, gagging, but that doesn’t stop him. Spit drips down my balls as he gives me the messiest blow job yet. It’s been a long time, a little over four months, actually, since my dick has been in anything other than my hand. It feels damn good. Even better because it’s Austen. I can’t believe I’m here, sitting on a kitchen floor, getting sucked off by Austen Brewer.
He moans around my dick, and I’m a goner.
