Holy fuck, I am so totally fucked.
AndI still have to make it through another night of sharing his bed.
25
Tristan
Ihave never in mylifebeen nervous to climb into bed with a man. Not once.
Yeah, so maybe I can chalk some of that perfect record up to the fact that there was no climbing into bed the night when I was fifteen and lost my virginity in the back of some guy’s car in an empty parking lot. ‘Cause honestly, I guess I was a little nervous then.
No bed involved there though, so it’s still true.
Hopping into some guy’s bed? Nope. Never once been nervous.
So of course it’s gotta be Jesse who’s gone and turned that upside down.
‘Cause right now? Nervous AF.
It’s a new, weird sort of nervous. Not the fear that I’m going to fuck up and piss him off. I just can’t actually be afraid of him.
I haven’t been able to decide whether that makes me naive and stupid—going back on that whole I-never-make-the-same-mistake-twice thing I’ve always had going on and all that, or whether it’s a good thing and means I’m just not a cynical fuck.
Let’s go with not-a-cynical-fuck, shall we?
But this new kind of nervous? It’s all jacked up butterflies and adrenaline and that damn skipping leap in my heart.
While I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth with the toothbrush I’d snagged from my place before I’d gotten called into work, I gave into the inevitable and rubbed one out, hoping it would take the edge off a bit.
And yeah, I might have spent the whole time wishing it was a certain pair of plush, soft, rosy-pink lips wrapped around my cock instead of my hand.
Not that I’m tricking myself into thinking it’s gonna help me much once I’m snuggled up with the owner of those sexy lips. Nope, I’mfullyprepared to spend the night, and,fuck, the foreseeable future, withthe worstcase of blue balls known to man.
I’m in his bed, joggers and tee safely on, when Jesse comes out of the bathroom after his turn. Like last night, he’s in flannel pjs, green and grey plaid this time. And again, an old, pilly tee. Black tonight.
Not gonna lie, my mouth goes a little dry as I watch him, all shuffly and shy and adorable as he fusses around, takingwaylonger than anyone ever needed to get into bed.
That tee of his fits him snugger than his ugly-ass sweaters. With every move he makes, I can totally see the movement of his muscles under the little bit of padding he’s got across his chest and over his stomach, andohhhbut it makes me want to touch all that cushy-firm, thick sexiness he’s got going on.
Hey, I never said Imindedhim taking forever, did I?
When he finally does flick off the light and tuck himself in next to me, Jesse’s so deliciously warm, like always, and even before he reaches for me, I can feel the gap under the blankets heat up. I’d left plenty of space for him to lie down in his ownbubble, without getting too cozy with me if that’s not what he’s up for, but damn do I love the fact that he doesn’t take it.
Nope, instead he snuggles right up to me with his big, soft hand splayed across my hip.
“Is this alright?” He whispers, stroking his thumb gently over the little strip of skin exposed between my shirt and joggers, and, of course,melt.
“I thinkI’mthe one that’s supposed to be asking you that, sunshine,” I laugh, shaking my head as I carefully scooch just a teensy bit closer so my legs brush up against his. “Why ask me?”
There’s enough streetlamp light coming in through his sheer curtains that I can see his brows go all scrunchy.
“Because you matter, Tris. How you feel aboutthismatters. I don’t want to tease you. You said I was last night, and I didn’t mean to. And now, there’s a part of me that’s afraid you must feel like I’m playing games with you, the way I just pulled the plug on everything out of nowhere.”
Oh, my heart. Oh, those fucking butterflies.
“Fuck, Jesse. I know you’re not playing games.” Why is my throat all tight and stinging? Andwhydoes my voice have to come out all raspy-choked sounding?
Nope. Gotta switch that shitoff.
