“Well, if you hadn’t, who would’ve saved me from my kitchen fire?” he teased. “Though, as terrifying as yesterday was, you looked hot as fuck.”
“Given the amount of fire, yeah,” I said back, amusement bubbling in me.
He pinched me in the side. “Fine, you’re sexy as fuck.”
“Well, so are you,” I responded, trailing my fingers over his clavicle, along his side. He was all slim muscle, tattoos, and a bright smile I couldn’t get enough of. “Goddamn, I want to sink inside you. There was a moment yesterday when the stairwell caught fire and I had to reroute, and I wasn’t sure I’d make it back. All I could think about was you.”
August’s eyes took on a watery sheen, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I was so fucking scared when I heard about the apartment fire. But I get why you do it. Why you need to. And I’ll be there to support you however you need it.”
If I wasn’t already sitting, I’d be knocked out at the knees.
My chest squeezed tight, acceptance hitting me square there. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d longed to hear that.
“I’m going to defile you now,” I murmured, nipping his ear. “Any problem with that?”
“Oh hell no,” he said, those gorgeous eyes gleaming. “I want that cock lodged in my throat, my ass, any way you can take me.”
“Fuck,” I growled, sliding off his legs to stand. In a quick movement, I scooped him up off the chair and carried him toward the bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
Chapter twenty-one
August
“Igot my test results,” I blurted out, the moment he swept into the room with me in his arms.
His eyes widened. “And?”
“Negative,” I said, a little breathless with the possibilities. “So if you want to…”
“Damn, baby,” he murmured. “That changes my plans completely.”
“That a bad thing?” I asked, chewing on my lower lip. Based on the blaze in his eyes, the switch-up might be even better.
“Hell no,” he responded, dropping me down on my mattress. “I have an important question though. Do you have any plugs or prostatemassagers?”
“Fuck yes,” I said, spreading my legs in invitation. “Bottom drawer of my nightstand. Lube’s there too.”
The wicked grin on Drake’s lips scorched me through.
We were dating now.
He fuckinglovedme.
The craziest thing was that for the first time, I didn’t feel like I was the odd man out. Like I was too much or gunning in too hard because he matched me every step of the way.
“Strip for me,” he said as he crouched in front of my nightstand, rummaging through my collection. “Someone’s a slut for getting filled, isn’t he?”
Ngh. That mouth.
I tugged my tee off and ditched the sweats. I hadn’t bothered with underwear because yes, I had absolutely expected to get laid. The need had grown so strong I was prepared to beg for his cock. Whenever he ever wanted mine, I was happy to deliver—I didn’t hate topping or anything—but my preference had always been bottoming, and not all of my partners wanted to top me.
Drake seemed happy to steer this ship.
I lay on the bed bare ass naked and spread my legs, ready to accept whatever he wanted to give me.
Drake stood again and kicked off his sweats, which showcased those rock-hard thighs, his thick, veined cock with the darker mushroom head that I sorely wanted in my mouth and in my hole. Pre-cum beaded on his tip, the slight glisten there beckoning me.
“Damn, you need some breakfast, baby?” he teased, his eyes dancing.
