I see that now.
I walk around the pool and into the house. I go looking for Lucas and find him where I expect, in the kitchen.
“Hey,” he says as I walk in. His expression is warm but not exactly happy. He’s pleased to see me, but he’s worried. I’m so tired of worrying him.
I join him at the island. He’s making cookies, spooning the dough onto baking sheets. His hands are sticky, so he presses briefly into me in lieu of a hug. I pet his hair.
“What kind?” I ask.
“An experiment. I put all my favorite things in. Cinnamon and pumpkin pie spice, white and dark chocolate, pecans.”
“Huh.”
He chuckles at my skepticism. It’s sweet. I love his laugh. I haven’t heard it enough lately. I want him to be happy.
“Will you put that in?” he asks when the baking sheet is full.
I take it over to the oven and open the door, letting out a burst of heat. As I slide the tray in, he calls, “And set the timer for ten minutes?”
I do that, then I return to the island and watch him fill another sheet. I’m so glad we’re not in our cell anymore. I like seeing him in the striped apron. I like that he’s doing something he enjoys. I enjoy it too. Watching him. Helping clean up.
As he hands me the mixer bowl to rinse, he says, “When the cookies are done, maybe we could take some into the library?”
“Maybe we could start a new book,” I suggest.
He smiles. “I’d like that.”
SIXTEEN
Lucas
I wake to the awareness of Roman’s body curved behind mine, his bare cock semi-hard against my ass. My own cock is heavy and aching, stiff because Roman’s hand is curled lightly around it. I murmur and press back against him. He starts stroking me.
I relax into the pleasure as his hand works up and down my shaft. His thumb massages my tip. His fingers dig teasingly into my balls.
He starts breathing harder against the back of my head, and his cock stiffens against my ass. I love that he enjoys touching me.
But I need more. I need him inside me. I reach for the lube.
“I just started,” he complains.
“You started before I was awake, or I wouldn’t be this hard.”
“That’s true,” he admits as he cups and rolls my balls.
I groan in pleasure and frustration.
“This is the only time you’re impatient,” he says, holding his hand out for me to squeeze lube into it.
I love when he’s like this, lazily chatting with me. It’s rare. I don’t waste it.
“It’s your fault,” I tease as he resumes stroking me, his hand moving slickly now. “God, that feels good.”
He murmurs against the back of my head, pleased.
Sometimes I can’t believe that I once thought I was straight. It’s so obvious now what my body needs, whatIneed. But I’m glad, actually, that I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone but Roman to teach me about my body.
I bite my lip when his hand moves to my ass. He rubs my hole, letting me enjoy the sensation before he presses in. He strokes and stretches me with his fingers, taking his time.
