Content to do the work since this is already so much more than I ever thought I’d have, I’m startled when Liam pushes my shorts down past my ass, exposing my cock.
“Thought it looked fun, and since I came on you, I figured you could return the favor.”
I’m bug-eyed and slack-jawed. It’s probably not my best look, but it can’t be helped.
How is he so comfortable with all of this right off the bat?
“Tell me how you want it,” he demands, hardly sounding like the goofy, smiley man I know.
“Just fucking touch me,” I plead, unable to keep the need out of my voice.
Liam’s massive hand engulfs my dick, and I don’t even have time to warn him or apologize for coming so fast.
“Fuuuck,” is all I manage to say after two pumps of his fist, and my come lands on his chest.
Chapter 22
Liam
If someone had told me this is where Damon and I’s annual trip would end up, I’d have never believed it, but now that we’re here, the only thought I have is ‘Why haven’t we done this sooner?’
I can tell he’s in his head about it, trying not to get his hopes up and waiting for me to tell him I made a mistake. But I didn’t…and I won’t.
I’ve always wanted to be in Damon’s orbit. When I moved to Boston, it was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I felt like I needed to prove something to myself and my parents. Of course, all I’ve proven is that I’m directionless without Damon and just as dependent on my best friend as I’ve always been.
Which is why I’m making plans to move back home. Especially after this. Damon doesn’t know it, but I don’t want to stay away anymore. Being Mr. Independent isn’t nearly as appealing as being Mr. Is-Working-On-Getting-His-Shit-Together-And-Wants-To-Date-His-Best-Friend.
Okay, so the title needs some work.
But the idea fills me with more joy, peace, and direction than I’ve had in a while…maybe ever.
“Let’s shower and grab some food. I’mstarving. My last remaining calories are now spread all over your stomach.”
Damon hiccups a small laugh.
“What the fuck is my life right now?” he asks in a dazed voice.
“It’s amazing, is what it is,” I reply, even though his question is rhetorical. “And as much as I’d love to shower with you, last night’s little meltdown proved to me that we can’t both fit in your shower and still have room to move, so I’ll meet you back out here in twenty minutes, okay?”
At the mention of last night, Damon’s face loses a little color, so I lean up and kiss him. I’ve discovered it’s the fastest way to put color back in his cheeks.
“I’m not running from this,” I tell him, making myself fully vulnerable. He needs to know that whilehemight be freaking out,I’mnot.
He nods, slides off my lap, and tucks himself back into his shorts. “See you in twenty.”
When he comes back into the living room, his hair is perfectly styled, and he’s in another suit, looking every bit the tech genius he is. He has his jacket draped over his arm, but the effect is no less stunning without it on. I take my time looking him over and let out a low whistle.
“Spin,” I tell him.
“What?”
“You heard me. Turn around.” My voice carries the same level of dominance it did when we were both half-naked, and a look of shock crosses his face, but he does as I say and begins to turn in a slow circle.
“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed how fucking hot you are.”
“And here I was, expecting to walk back in the room to find you basking in post-nut clarity, ready to pretend,”—he waves his hand toward the couch—“thatnever happened.”
Not wanting there to be any space between us, I move toward him, prepared to lay it all out there.
