“You’ve only had one day off, so I didn’t think— But I didn’t mean— You don’t have to— Or that work is the only place you’d go—” He cuts off his cute and confusing as hell jabbering, breathing out a long breath as the pink darkens nearly to scarlet as it spreads down across his neck. “If you want to hang out here so you stay warm, you’re welcome to. I can leave you a key, so it’s not like you’ll be stuck here. And there’s food. Unless you have something else you’re doing and don’t want to stay at all, I mean.”
He throws those words out even faster than before, but at least they string together to make sense. Why they should make my heart go all fluttery and my chest go all toasty-mushy feeling though, I really don’t have any idea.
Except, fuck. I do.
Because he’s just going and doing that same damn thing he did last night when he wrapped me up in those warm, thick, gentle arms of his and held me while I pulled myself back from my stupid-ass freak out. He’s making me believe, once again, that what you see really is what you get with him. Sweet ashell, kind and sincere, and totally fucking adorable.
And ohh, itreallyis time for a distraction right about now.
“You know what I think you’re up to, sunshine?” I sidle up to him, tipping up onto my toes to lean in so that my question finishes in a whisper right against his scorching-pink blushed ear. Andfuckbut does the fact that I can feel the heat of that blush radiating off his skin onto my lips do it for me.
This isn’t just about the tease, or even just to get my own mind off shit I most definitely shouldn’t be thinking. That panicky-embarrassed, wide-eyed look he’d just been giving me tells me he needs a little deflection just about as bad as I do.
I’m not gonna lie though and say I don’t totallylovethat shuddery shiver of his that I can practically feel running through my own body.
“I think you’re just trying to make sure I’m here when you get back,” I lean in a little closer so my lips brush against the shell of his ear. Andfuuuckdoes a shock of electric heat crash through me with that breathy little exhale he gives when his body legitimately jolts against mine at the contact. “’Cause I don’t think you can wait any more than I can to pick up where we left off in your bed.”
I think I can do this.
I can’t shut off the thought as I flit around Jesse’s apartment, straightening up the weird mixture of barren and cluttered. Not that I’m going through his things or anything like that. Even if itistrue that there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to get into wherever he keeps his socks so I can match up the pairs and throw away the rest so that heneveragain repeats thismorning’s travesty.
For now though, I’m just tidying up the stuff he has out.
Getting rid of the collection of recyclables he’s left piled on his counter rather than just dropping them in the recycle bin that’s sitting only a foot away on the floor? Definitely not what anyone could call snooping.
I think I can do this.
BythisI mean ride this thing with Jesse out as long as it’s good, instead of turning and running the hell away from it now, or after one fuck, like I’ve perfected over the last year. Not that I’ve ever really wanted anything else before this…
It doesn’t mean anything though. Not really. Nothing permanent or big or dangerous, like getting any sort of realfeelingsor other shit I simply can’t do, mixed up in the situation with us.
But hang out? Have a little fun that lasts longer than just getting each other off?
Yeah, that I think I can manage.
Take how he’s drawing things out, being all touchy-feely without just jumping in and giving me that thorough fucking Iknowhe wants to give me. Maybe it doesn’t seem like much, but usually, any kind of mushy cuddle fest before (or for that matter after) getting down to it would be enough to send me running.
Fuck, I’ve never once slept all snuggled up with anyone in my life.
Until last night, of course.
So why the hell did I want that with him? And why does the fact that I’ll be doing it again tonight make my heart go all melty-warm and wake up those damn butterflies all over again?
Still, what’s the harm in enjoying a little cuddling?
For the record, it’s not self-flattery or any other arrogant BS that’s making me say Iknowsunshine wants to fuck me six ways to Sunday. Not after he as good as told me last nightandagain this morning with that mouthwateringly thick, impossible to miss hard-on he’d tried not to let me feel. And just from a little bit of cuddling too…
Not that I’m blaming him at all, ‘cause, not gonna lie, just thememoryof thatlittle bit of cuddlinghas me seriously tenting my joggers.
That sexy sunshine better hurry his cute ass back here.
Before I’d launched into my surface level tidying efforts, I’d done what I’d been itching to do all morning and got my hands on Jesse’s piano. Considering the fact that it’s been thirteen years since I’ve played anything but my keyboard, the heavier keys felt weird under my fingers, and, as I’d guessed from hearing Jesse play through the wall, that thing ishellaout of tune.
For about five seconds, I’d thought I’d be able to tune it myself. I know what it’s supposed to sound like, so how hard could it be?
A quick search on Google was all it took to do away with that idea though. Apparently, the answer isveryhard. And you need all kinds of special tools and shit.
So instead, I just messed around with the keys for an hour or so, getting used to where they were off and which ones I needed to use to get the right notes.
