“Yes,” I murmur.
He gives me a sexy smile. “Good boy,” he purrs, his hand stroking again, and it feels better than anything I’ve ever felt. My balls are tingling, pleasure flickering through my thighs and up my spine while Jeremy jacks us.
“Your cock feels amazing, Marcus. Look how good we look together.” I start to thrust in time with his pumps, lingering on the edge of my orgasm. “That’s it. Fuck my hand. I got you, baby.”
I think it’s the nickname that does me in.
“Shit. Gonna come,” I whine, our panting breaths mingling together. “Jeremy, uggghhh . . .”
His fist quickens, and my cock erupts, shooting cum all over his hand, and Jeremy isn’t far behind. He gives a strangled cry, holding his cock against mine, his grip tight and needy, milking us both until our balls are completely drained. There’s warm, sticky cum everywhere—the sheets, our chests, between his fingers.
When his grip loosens, I instinctively wrap my arms around him and lower us to the bed. I kiss his forehead, his eyebrows, his cheeks, and then bury my nose in his neck, inhaling his floral scent as his hair tickles my face. Despite the mess, our bodies feel so fucking good pressed together.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes for some reason, and I close them tight, holding everything I’m feeling inside. I’m so overwhelmed in the best way possible, and my body clearly has no idea how to react to all the sensations and emotions mixing in my chest like a volcano ready to blow.
Jeremy clings to me, his fingers tracing the line of my spine, and we lie there for a long time. So long, in fact, that I’m surehe’s almost asleep. He shifts a bit until his back is to my front, making me the big spoon.
I’m just starting to drift off when Jeremy whispers, “Marcus?” I swallow, and he rolls onto his back, studying my face. “How long have we actually known each other?”
Right. Stupid stoned Marcus told him about when we actually met.Despite that, I still try to play it off. “What do you mean? It’s been a few months?—”
“Don’t.” His eyes harden. “Please don’t lie to me.”
I sigh and run a finger along his brow and down his jaw. My thumb wipes away some smeared mascara.Will he be upset if he knows that I’ve been watching him for years like a fucking creep?
“Since I was eleven.”
“You were the boy on the beach.” It’s not a question, so I just nod. “I guess I don’t look that different.” He looks up at me and rubs my scruff with the tips of his fingers. “You do, though.”
I chuckle. “It’d be weird if I had facial hair when I was eleven.”
He runs his hand through my hair, and I close my eyes for a moment, savoring his touch. “Your hair is the same color.” Jeremy’s brow furrows, making a line that I want to rub away. “You knew it was me all this time. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug, my bare shoulder moving against his. “I don’t know. I guess I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of what it meant. You were . . . important.”
Do I tell him more?
He looks at me expectantly, and I realize that Iwantto tell him. Because now I can’t deny that I care about him, and I’m so tired of hiding.
“I don’t believe in fate or soulmates,” I start hesitantly. “It’s not my style. Just Norah. She believes in all that witchy stuff—magical realism, I think it’s called—but I’ve always been a realist, much to her dismay.”
“You’ve mentioned Norah before.” His voice has a sharp edge. “She was your girlfriend?”
Jealousy?
“It wasn’t like that. But she was—is—important to me. We were intimate a few times,” I admit as I swallow at the memories, “and she knows more of my secrets than most.”
“Tell me about her.” Jeremy’s voice is smooth velvet in the dark room.
I hesitate. Not many people are privy to my relationship with Norah. It’s a very private part of my life. But with Jeremy, I feel safe. “She was the first person I really enjoyed being intimate with.” I pause. “Well, the only person until you.”
His body stiffens in my arms and then relaxes. “Was she your first?”
I shake my head. “No. Well, yes. In a way.” I feel my face get warm. “I wasn’t a virgin. But she introduced me to . . . other stuff.”
