A frown settles across Dion’s forehead and he goes very, very quiet for what feels like hours but is likely only a little more than a minute. It kills me to wait patiently, but I do.
“Oh. Fuck.”
“You believe me?”
“I … It makes sense.”
I lay my hand on his leg and it’s warm and thick and solid, and covered in curling dark hairs and tattoos of animals, symbols, words and flowers. God, I love his body. “You have to believe me. The way I felt about you back then. I would have never said such things about you. I know I probably shouldn’t have said them about anybody, but I would have never said them about you. I…I really liked you that year. A lot.”
He glances down at my hand on his leg and then looks up at me, and slowly, his frown smooths out. “And how about now? How do you feel about me now?”
I squeeze his leg and lean closer to him. “I feel like I’ve found a friend I thought I’d never see again. And that maybe, maybe I could fall in love with him.”
Dion blinks at me and looks slightly alarmed.
Fuck, I’ve said too much. I revealed my cards much too soon. I open my mouth to…I don’t know what — retract my statement, apologise, explain myself — but Dion beats me to it.
“That’s a lot for somebody like me to take in,” he says slowly, carefully. “But I don’t hate it. I don’t hate it at all.”
I couldn’t stop my smile even if I tried. “So, you want to go for coffee some time when we finally get out of here?”
Dion returns my smile. “I would like that.”
My hand glides up his thigh as I lean even closer for a kiss. He looks down at it rather than at my incoming lips. “I would also like to pick up where we left off,” he says.
“Oh, you want both? You want tonightanda possible future?”
He nods. “I want tonight and a possible future.”
It couldn’t be clearer and it couldn’t sound better. I practically jump on top of him, pressing him back against the sofa, as I slam our lips together.
And then, it’s on.
We are a tangle of limbs. We are hot, breathless kisses. We are roaming hands and shared moans.
I’ve never wanted somebody so much. I’ve never felt so wanted before. I don’t know if it’s the contrast with how low and lost I’ve been feeling since Mum passed, but I never want this feeling to end and it doesn’t have to. He said he wanted coffee. He said he wanted a possible future together.
It’s that reminder that has me moaning into his mouth while his tongue assaults mine.
“God, I love your noises,” he tells me, lips moving against mine. His hand grips the back of my head, pulling at the short hairs there. “Never hold them back, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree all too easily. To reward me, he shoves me so I’m sitting pressed up against the back of the sofa, and then he’s climbing on top of me.
“Tell me if I’m too heavy,” he says as he settles astride my lap.
“You’re not.” I wrap my arms around his middle. “You’re not.”
“And if I’m hurting you in any way, or your bag.”
I hold him tighter, so tight that he presses my bag back against me, locking it in place. I feel pressure but no pain. “You’re not.”
His hands cup my face and he stares into my eyes as he starts to rock his body against mine, slowly lining up our groins. When his warm softness presses up against my hard length, I close my eyes and groan, loudly. “Fuck, that feels so good.”
He ruts harder against me. “Yeah,” he agrees and there’s a breathless hint that he’s not as completely composed as he wants me to think he is, and that is somehow more special than if he was utterly in charge right now.
“Fuck, I wish there were no clothes between us,” I say in a voice that borders on being whiney.
Dion gives me a sly look. “Of course you do, which is why we’re going to stay like this for a little longer.”
