He turns to me then, completely nude, and stops still. His eyes slide down to my shirt before he steps closer, throat bobbing. He unknots my tie, sliding it free before tossing the material on my jacket. Next are the buttons he slowly and methodically frees.
“Christ,” he murmurs, tugging the tails of my shirt loose before smoothing his palms over my skin. His cock has plumped now, his skin flushing beautifully. “You’re a work of art, Trevor.”
My lips twitch. “And where do you plan to mount me?”
Isaac barks a laugh, his eyes bright as he tugs my pants open and drops with them to the floor. He undresses me fully before steering me toward his bed. “Right here,” he answers, pushing me down and climbing over my lap. He grinds his cock against my own, his eyes holding mine as I clasp the back of his neck tight. “Kiss me, and wrap your hand around our cocks, and stay here tonight.”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” I tell him, bringing my lips to his.
There’s a charge to the kiss, effervescent like the champagne Isaac was sipping. It’s sweet and unapologetic, and as I trap Isaac’s dick against my own, his moan is the same. He rocks against me, riding my cock, our mouths tangling and his panting breaths a heartbeat to this stolen moment in time.
When Isaac cries out, pulsing over my fist, I have only to stop holding back the inevitable. I fall after him, my body a million tiny fires, bursting bright with Isaac to fan the flames. His breath saws out of him, his cheek resting against my shoulder, lips pressing to my neck again and again.
I think I hear words, but they’re quiet.
“What was that?” I ask, grabbing the edge of the sheet to clean us up.
Isaac doesn’t answer, simply kisses my jaw and then my mouth. He doesn’t stop for a long while, and I forget the whisper I might have heard.
The one that sounded a lot likelove.
Chapter 29
Isaac
I’m in a good mood when my mom calls on Tuesday.
Her name flashes on my phone screen, covering the text Trevor sent with a picture of a bowtie he thought I’d look cute in. I accept the call, voice light. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, hon.”
Her tone has my smile slipping. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Well, mostly. Would you have some time to meet up this week? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”
The crash of my pulse through my ears makes it hard to hear my own voice. “You saw your doctor?”
I nearly miss my mom’s sigh. “I’d really like to talk in person, Isaac.”
“I’m coming over.”
“It’s not that urgent—”
“I’m coming over,” I repeat.
She’s quiet for a second. “Please drive safe.”
I give some sort of goodbye before dropping my phone. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck.”
Pulling in a breath, I force myself to move. I push my school supplies off to one corner of my bed, pull on socks, grab my things, and go.
The drive to my mom’s house feels endless. I run worst-case scenarios through my head, no matter how many times I tellmyself to stop. By the time I arrive, I’ve readied myself for a blow.
The front door is unlocked. I let myself in and kick off my shoes. “Mom?”
“In here,” she calls.
I follow her voice to the living room. She’s sitting on one of the sofas, what looks like a mug of tea on the table beside her.
