Funny how he can be so silent and then turn everything upside down with one word.
Caesar’s face starts to fall. I think I can see memories coming back, and I’m scared I’m going to lose him, and since there aren’t really words to make it different, I just leap forward and plant a kiss on his lips. I have to push up on my toes and grab the back of his head to reach him, but I press my mouth to his and hold him for an impossibly long heartbeat.
My nerves sing as I feel the scrape of his stubble against my skin, and Caesar’s lips part just enough to open to me before I pull back again.
“I don’t care,” I say quickly. “I mean, I know it’s weird. It’s weird! But I don’t care. I don’t live here, and I never do anything like this. I haven’t even had sex in years, but I want this, and I think you want me, too, so I don’t care.”
Well, there goes all the subtext.
I gulp in a breath. My hand is still on the back of Caesar’s head, and when I realize that, I step back and pull it away, but just as quickly, he grabs my wrist.
“Years,” he says simply. “Me either, kid.”
I realize what he means—that he hasn’t had sex in years. Grace bounds up to us, barking and growling, and I’m struck numb by the realization that Caesar needs me to open him up.
He’s been shut down. Not in the same way I have. I’ve been lost to grief and probably some depression, too, for the past few years. I’m not sure why Caesar buried himself away, but I do know that we can help each other feel different again.
I rise and pull Caesar into another kiss. This time, we’re only still a second before he responds. His heavy hands land on my side, and he hitches me up, pulling me to him. Caesar’s mouth opens over mine, and his tongue invades my mouth. Then I kiss him back just as hard, pressing my palms to his chest.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Kid…”
“Drew,” I say, my lips still pressed to his.
“Drew,” he answers, growling it just like I wanted him to.
Caesar pulls me into the house. His rough hands are all over my body, and I paw at him in return, feeling his strength and his heft. Somehow, we make our way to the living room, and I realize I’m gasping for air.
“You’re not a talker,” I tell him, then grab the bottom of his shirt. “So I’ll just keep my mouth shut and enjoy your grumpy ass like you are.” I take a deep breath, gathering courage, then pull his shirt up, tugging it off him.
I’m faking my confidence, but when I remove the shirt and see the taken-aback expression on his face, my laugh comes out quick and easy. Caesar is clearly not used to having someone else undress him, but I notice that he didn’t stop me either.
“You’re always laughing,” he growls, then takes my face in his hand again. I start to object, but Caesar’s expression softens. “It’s a good look on you.”
My cheeks warm. There are sparse gray hairs grown across the top of his chest, and the meaty muscles are thick beneath my fingers. Caesar has about half of his chest inked, the biggest piece being a motorcycle gang of dogs that rides all the way down to his hip.
“And Grumpy is a good look on you,” I tell him with a laugh, then drag my hand over the dog tattoos, down to the curve of his hip. “You’re strangely adorable.”
He coughs out a laugh. “Hell of a compliment.”
We’re both smiling now, half of Caesar’s mouth hitched up and a different kind of warmth in his silver eyes. I feel playful, and right as I lean up to kiss him again, I drag my fingers over his chest and lightly pinch his nipple.
Caesar presses his body harder to mine with a growl. His lips open as our tongues meet, and when he closes his mouth again and takes me, my hum is deep and satisfied.
He holds my weight as trembles of pleasure radiate from my core. My cock twitches, hard in my jeans. All my muscles are numb from the motorcycle ride. It’s like I’ve crashed into a different reality, but Caesar is here to catch me.
He grabs my shirt, then tugs it off and throws it aside. Caesar’s hand falls to my bicep, and he pauses for a second, lifting my arm as he examines my tattoo. It reminds me all over again how tangled things are between us. For the rest of my life, I’m going to have this ink, reminding me of him and of so much more.
A deeper longing rises up in me. I want Caesar for more than just this one time, but I’m not going to fool myself. I set out to find a random hookup at the bar the other night, and somehow I got this, something so much better.
It’s not time to get greedy. It’s time to enjoy what I have while I have it.
Caesar pulls his hands down to my hips. “Tell me what you want,” he growls in my ear. “I’ll take care of you.”
I swallow. I know exactly how I want him to take care of me, but I have to work up the courage to say it. “I want you inside me,” I tell him weakly, then summon more strength to say it again. “Will you fuck me?”
His fingers sink into the flesh at my hips. His brow is tight, like it’s paining him to look at me, and I don’t know why that’s hot, but it is.
Need stabs at my heart. “Please.” I kiss him again. “Don’t make me beg.”
