I come inside his mouth with a loud groan. I lie there, sated.
He softly kisses my abdomen, my chest, and then my lips.
My brain comes back online when I hear a zipper. Matt takes his cock in his hand and fucks himself with his fist intently, his eyes on my face.
“I can help,” I say, my hand moving over his, wanting to touch him but lacking the energy to really do anything.
“It's okay, I'm already there,” he growls. He comes on me, painting my neck and chest with his cum.
He smudges it more when he falls on me, his face buried in my neck. I pat his hair in commiseration.
He laughs against my throat. When he pulls up, his breath ghosts my lips. He kisses me slowly.
By the time I realize we just made sweet love, he looks half asleep, and his weight is drowning me. I like him against me, but my body can’t hold him up for more than a couple of seconds.
I elbow him until he moves to the side. Then I get up, groaning low, and find my T-shirt. I use it to clean us both before lying back down next to him.
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me back against him. His breath evens out instantly. God knows the guy needed a good nap. As a good Samaritan, I'malways glad to help.
Chapter Twelve
Matt
My eyes open to an empty apartment. Oliver’s absence feels like a part of me is missing, the warmth of his body pressed against mine still fresh in my mind.
He must have snuck out after I fell asleep. It's truly a testament to how deeply I slept if I didn't hear my noisy human move my arm, get ready, and walk out of the apartment.
I realize I have a smile on my face and this weird fluttery feeling in my stomach. It could be hunger, but I feel lighter and almost giddy in anticipation of something.
You know what? Not even gonna go there.
I knew I shouldn't have bought that fucking croissant. Who am I kidding? I knew exactly what I was doing. Hell, even Nick knew what I was doing.
I wish I could just pretend that what happened with Oliver didn’t mean anything, but my stomach sinks even thinking about it. I’ve wanted him for as long as I’ve known him. It’ll kill me towalk away from him when the time comes. I can’t think about that yet. I just…can’t.
Compartmentalization, the ultimate key to remaining sane.
I sigh and check my phone. The LA WRB chat is buzzing. The unofficial one, not the ones with the higher-ups. Apparently, we’re meeting for lunch today.
I check the time. I have approximately twenty minutes. Good. A distraction. I rush out of Oliver's house to get ready, and I’m out the door in fifteen.
When I enter the buzzing cafe, everyone is already sitting and chatting loudly. That's what you get when all your friends work in emergency services. Punctuality isn’t even a question.
I take the empty seat next to Sloan while they continue arguing about something I can't figure out yet. Again, not a rare thing. The argument, not my lack of understanding. Actually, no, I don’t get what these people blabber about half the time.
“So, what's up with the Christmas party?” Bree interrupts Marcus’s lecture on nail hygiene. I’m suddenly very tempted to join the hundreds of thousands of bacteria that live under my fingertips.
Nick responds before I can. “Oh, Matt is trying to seduce the human across the hall.”
I glare at him. “No, I’m—”
“Ooh, Oliver? That's so cute. You guys arefinallygetting together?” Camilla rests her elbows on the table and her face on her palms.
“What, no—”
“Marcus owes me fifty,” Sloan announces.
“He didn't say they’re together yet, Sloan,” Marcus retorts. He turns to me. “You aren't together, are you?”
