The drawer squealed as I tugged it open, fumbling for the lube before getting my fingers around it.
I flipped the cap open without looking, too busy kissing my way along Theo’s neck, soaking in the breathy gasps he made with every touch of my lips.
When I squeezed the tube, a glob of something more like book paste than lubricant squirted into my fingers.
“Uh,” I said, wrinkling my nose as I squished it between thumb and forefinger. “How long has this been here?”
Theo pulled back, looking at me with his brows drawn. His pupils were blown, eyes glazed, and he looked like he’d just been woken from sleepwalking, dazed and confused.
I held my fingers up for his inspection.
His nose wrinkled as well as I demonstrated the stickiness of the lube.
“Umm,” he looked between my fingers and the drawer. “Four… no, five years?”
I turned the bottle up and looked at the crimp. Expired three years.
A laugh escaped me. Theo gave me a withering look, taking the tube from my hand and peering at it. “Expired?—”
“Three years ago,” I finished for him.
Theo wrinkled his nose again, closing the cap and giving the tube a shake. It made a promisingly wet sound this time, as though there was a more liquid substance in there somewhere.
He unscrewed the cap, glaring at the tube the whole time like it’d stolen his lunch out of the break room fridge. When he got it open, he plucked another sticky glob from the end, mouth screwing up along with his nose as he leaned over to grab a tissue from the box on the nightstand.
Once he was done cleaning his hand, he tossed the tissue toward the trash, missed, shrugged, then screwed the cap back on lube.
“The rest of it’s fine,” he said, holding the tube out to me.
I stared at him.
“You can’t be serious.”
He shrugged again. “It’s going inmyass,” he said, biting his lip and looking me over. “I want this,” he added. “You.”
Enough not to care about expired lube. Which, probably, wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. As long as it still worked.
“You have to promise me you’ll tell me if it feels weird,” I said, giving in.
Theo broke into one of his just-for-me smiles, dimples on full display, eyes crinkling at the corners. He leaned forward, brushing our noses together, lowering his lashes. Heknewwhat a good look shy was on him, and he was taking advantage of that.
“Promise,” he murmured, so close our lips brushed together. “We’ll take it slow.”
16
THEO
I regretted tellingSimon we could take it slow.
Not because the feeling of his fingers inside me wasn’t incredible. Because itwas. I had my eyes screwed up, forehead pressed to Simon’s, panting for breath as I rocked back onto his hand, my thighs already starting to hate me.
I was going to feel this in the morning, but that also wasn’t what I objected to.
What I objected to was that Simonwastaking it slow, and I wanted his dicknow. Ten years.Ten yearsI’d been waiting for this. Some people would’ve said another ten minutes was nothing, but I was so close to having what I wanted I could practically taste it. That was torture.
“Sy,” I complained, not for the first time, voice rough, grinding down against his hand. He had three fingers inside me, up to the hilt, the stretch of itjustshort of really satisfying.
Simon, to my delight, had a big dick. As though he wasn’t already perfect enough. I wouldn’t have cared, whatever I found in hisunderwear, but my insides squirmed at the thought of what Ihadfound. I’d thought he was the most incredible man in the world before—now I knew it for a fact. He was the ideal size, not so big he’d be difficult to take, more than big enough to feel amazing.
