“Micah’s the same. Caleb isn’t. He was born with the same condition, but his eyes are tiny, and he can see a little.” I had this entire fucking speech memorized. I sounded like a goddamn after-school special PSA. “Anyway, can we not talk about that? It’s all anyone ever cares about, and it gets old quickly.”
I didn’t want to tell him that I’d spent my entire childhood forced to talk to internet strangers about the way I lived.
He was quiet again, and I wondered if maybe I offended him, but then he reached past me and snagged something off the plate. Probably the meat. It was fucking amazing. “I was singing in Türkçe,” he finally said. I loved the way that word rolled off his tongue. “I was born in Cyprus. My mom is from the south, my dad was from the north, but we lived with my dad’s family in Nicosia until we moved to England when I was ten.”
I wish I’d been better at geography because I was pretty sure north and south Cyprus were significant, but I didn’t ask. “Did you move to England for hockey?”
He laughed very softly. “No. Hockey happened because I went to a camp when I was six, in Finland. It turned out I was good, so my parents kept paying for me to go, and the camp sponsored me. I billeted in Toronto for juniors, but after my dad died, my mom and my brother followed me. Then I got drafted.”
“And they came here?” I asked.
He said nothing.
“Did you nod or shake your head?”
“Fuck. Sorry. I nodded. My brother got married to a friend of the family. She goes back and forth to Athens a lot, and my mom goes with her. I hope you can meet her when she gets back. Both of them.”
He…wanted me to meet his family?
That didn’t mean anything.
It couldn’t. At least, not more than me being friends with Nikos and them helping me take care of my dad. And that was fine. Whatever this was…it was fine.
I sighed and laid my head back. “Thank you for the food.”
“Mm.” He lifted the tray off my legs and set it on the edge of the bed. “Now for sleep.”
I was tired, but I knew it wouldn’t last. The food would settle me for a bit, but it wasn’t going to take the edge off my stress.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured, and then suddenly, he was hovering over me, hands pressed to the headboard, forehead touching mine, his ass resting just above my thighs. I could feel his bent knees pressing against my hips, bracketing me in. “But I made you a promise last time we spoke.”
Did he? And oh fuck, I remembered now. Everything he’d said on the bus before he talked me through my orgasm in the bathroom.
“Alexio,” I murmured.
“Be quiet.”
I shuddered out a single exhale and turned my face up. I wanted a kiss. Badly. But I knew it wouldn’t come. He told me I’d have to beg for it, and I wasn’t there yet. He took in a lungful of air, and as he exhaled, his parted lips grazed over my jaw, then down the side of my neck.
He began to lower himself down, his cock brushing along my stomach, then over my rock-hard, raging erection.
“Oh god,” I said, unable to stop the noises from leaving my throat.
He hummed as his teeth skimmed over my hammering pulse. “You want me to fuck you?”
Shit. Shit. I’d done a lot of things. I’d definitely been pegged by girlfriends, so I knew what it was like. Mostly. And I’d like it. But I had never taken a cock up the ass before.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
He froze. “Jonah?”
“Mm.”
“Are you a top? Like…a strict top?” He hesitated, then added, “It’s not a deal-breaker. I just want to know.”
God save me. “I don’t know what I am. I’ve never,ah—you know. Done anything like this before?”
His face was close enough to mine I could feel his fluttering lashes as he blinked rapidly—a bit like butterfly kisses. “What did you and your other boyfriends do?”
