“Anything,” I rasp. As if I could refuse him when he looks at me like that.
“I want you to fuck me.”
My heart skitters to a stop for a nanosecond before it starts beating again, faster than before. That’s the one thing we haven’t done in the bedroom. Not that I’m complaining. Sex with Adam is off the charts, even without—that. I never pressed him about it. I just assumed he didn’t like to bottom.
But I’d be lying if I said my private parts weren’t doing a little happy dance at the thought of being inside him.
“No,” I tell him. His face falls, but I kiss his downturned mouth. “I’m not going to fuck you. A very smart man once told me that fucking is physical. Mechanical.”
“Whoever he is, he sounds like a genius.”
“Shut up and let me finish.” I reach down and take him in my hand, wrapping my fingers around his already hardening length, and that does the trick. Hand jobs—or blow jobs—are a surefire way to render most guys speechless. And they always do the trick with Adam.
“I’m going to make love to you,” I promise, stroking him. “Slowly and thoroughly, until there’s not a doubt in your mind how I feel about you.”
“And how is that?” he manages to croak out.
He wants me to say the words first? Okay, I can do that. I think. They’re only words, right?
Only the most important words I’ve ever said. To the most important person I’ll ever say them to.
I release him and let my hand drift lower, teasing his taint then sinking a finger inside him, prepping him for what’s to come. “I love you. You’re it for me, Puck Boy. There’s no one else.”
Wow, that was a lot easier than I expected. Maybe that’s because everything about this is so perfect.
Adam shudders, and I could swear that’s a tear running down his handsome face. Yep, it’s a tear, all right. And another. And another. No judgment. I’m crying a little, too. Happy tears, of course.
“I love you, too, Showstopper. So much.”
“Showstopper, huh?” I add another finger, making him shudder again. “That’s what you’re going with as a pet name?”
“If the shoe fits—” He sucks in a ragged breath as I scissor my fingers, opening him for me. “Besides, it’s as least as good as Puck Boy. Maybe better.”
“Those are fighting words,” I tease, my fingers spreading him wider.
His head falls back and his eyes close. “If you keep touching me like that, I’m gonna embarrass myself.”
“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me. I want you to come. Multiple times. Multiple ways.”
He groans. “You always have the best ideas.”
“So do you. Weren’t you the one begging me to top you a few minutes ago?”
“And yet your dick still isn’t in my ass.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh when I remove my fingers, but the sigh turns to a moan when he realizes it’s so I can open the drawer of his nightstand, where he keeps the condoms and lube. I toss a foil packet onto the bed and flip open the bottle of lube, tipping some into my palm and coating my erection. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you patience is a virtue?”
“It’s also frustrating as hell. For fuck’s sake, man. Put me out of my misery.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Funny, you don’t look miserable.”
“You know what I mean.”
I do, because I’m as desperate for him as he is for me. I reach for the condom, rip open the packet and slide it on, using my lubed-up hand to make it slick. Then I ease into him, wanting to feel every inch of his hot, tight channel as I slowly bury myself until I’m balls deep inside him.
“Is this okay?” I ask. “Are you in any pain?”
“Yes to the first, no to the second.” He stares at the spot where we’re joined and makes a sound that’s half whimper, half gasp. “Wait, I want to change my answer.”
