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I pull back to look into his eyes, his hand warm and somehow soft against my cheek. “You deserve better.”

“What the hell do you think you deserve, huh? Why won’t you give yourself this?”

“You know why,” he says, his eyes connected with mine, sadness and fury in them. “I’m not a good person.”

“That’s bullshit,” I answer immediately. “You are a good person. You made a mistake, out of fear and self-preservation.”

“At the expense of another innocent person.”

“An innocent person who is happy now. With his person,” I say, pleading with him. Not expecting this but also not willing to deny how I feel. So intensely. He’s my person. My big, kind of cranky, beautiful man. He’s mine.

“Jonah . . .” he whispers against my lips, and that’s all I need. I know he’s worried. I know it’s not really a surrender, but I still lean forward and kiss him softly, reveling in his taste and the feeling of his lips against mine.

We’re young. I know that. The likelihood of us making it long-term isn’t great, but I want to take that chance.

I want him, and the way he’s kissing me right now, his fingers sliding to my hair and pulling just hard enough to make me moan, it tells me that he wants this too. We can work through this.

I take his hand and lead him to his truck because he has a back seat. We climb inside, and his body blankets mine, his lips tormenting me with sweet teasing kisses. Our hard dicks trapped under too many clothes, but kissing him feels too good to pull away long enough to remove the fabric.

He is a very skilled man, though, because his lips never leave mine as he reaches between us, pulling my shorts and underwear down before freeing his own dick. He strokes us both together, using the precum leaking from our dicks to slick us both. It’s not enough, though, and when he brings his hand up to my mouth, I make it as wet as I can with my tongue before diving back into his mouth.

He strokes us as we rut and writhe together, our tongues stroking over each other’s. It’s frantic and chaotic, but it’s the most beautiful fucking thing. My back bows into him as my entire body goes hot, tingling all over before I shoot, my cum making a mess I can’t find it in myself to regret, and his joins a moment later.

His big body crushes mine, and I want him to lie on top of me forever. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to look at him and see any sort of regret, but when he comes down from the high, he starts to kiss my mouth, then my cheeks and my neck and pulls back to look at me.

Serene satisfaction is all I see on his face.

“So we’re going to do this then?”

I nod dumbly as I stare up at him. “Oh yeah. You’re not getting rid of me.”

He sits up slowly and grabs a couple of napkins from the front of his truck, handing me some as we clean up.

“You’re right. It’s senior year. One more year before we graduate and you go do great things in college.” He says it with a finality I’m not sure I really like. “I can give us this.” He smiles, but I still have a feeling of unease inside of me, even when he leans in and kisses me sweetly.

I want to tell him it’s not just this year. I can tell he thinks this will end with this school year, but I’m not willing to let that happen.

As long as he wants me, I’m his.

But I was right about having to take it super slow with him. I thought it would just be the sex stuff that would need to be slow, but now I’m realizing it’s so much more than that.

I’m going to have to really ease him into going a little offsides on this one. I’m more than happy to be patient with him because I know . . .

When it’s right, it’s right.

I always trust my gut.

And right now, my gut is saying this is endgame.

This is final.

This is it for me and for him.

He just doesn’t know it yet.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

calvin