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“I’m close,” I say, not sure why I’m suddenly so talkative.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So warm. So tight. You’re perfect,” he says, thrusting into me over and over. My whole body draws tight, and I let go.

Let go of all the bullshit. Of not letting myself have anything real. Of not being able to admit that I’m gay and I want this. I feel light and free in a way that I never have before as I come—hard. My cock erupts between our bodies, spraying my cum all over my stomach and his and his hand. It’s almost too much.

Almost feels too good.

And then I feel his cock jerk deep inside me as he releases warm cum inside my body, and a whole new round of shivers goes through me as my cock dribbles out more cum.

We’re sticky and sweaty and messy, and I couldn’t ask for a better night.

Because tonight, it’s just us.

Both of us just free.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

jonah

I can hear birds chirping outside, and when I open my eyes, I can see the sun is already bright.

I don’t want to climb out of this tent though.

I don’t want to leave his side.

We tried to clean up as best we could last night, but we’re both still sticky and gross. It’s fucking amazing.

Everything about last night was fucking amazing.

He talked to me. He told me real things about his family. And I told him things I never ever thought I would tell anyone. Not even Micah.

The sex was awesome, but the talking was straight-up amazing.

He starts to stir next to me, and I swear I don’t want him to wake up just yet because I don’t want last night to have been a dream. Or for him to think it was a mistake. I just want to lie here with him for a little longer.

“It’s fucking cold,” he says, snuggling into me and burying his freezing cold nose into my side.

“Yeah, whose idea was it to sleep outside in September?” I tease.

“Worth it,” he mumbles into my bare skin, and yes, yes it was.

“How do you feel? Are you okay?” I’m asking if he’s physically sore from bottoming for the first time. But I’m also asking more than that. And I know he knows it when he picks up his head to look at me.

“I’m great. Really.” And I believe him.

I smile. “Good. No one will know,” I say firmly.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it, looking at me. “I know. I’m sorry. I wish it were different.”

I can’t say I completely understand why he even cares about his family disowning him—if they can’t accept him for who he is, then is it really worth it? But I also know not to say that out loud. I know I have Micah and Jenna. I know that’s a privilege he doesn’t have.

“Do you ever get tired of being in the closet though?” I ask the ridiculously stupid question before I can stop myself.

“Every. Day,” he says instantly, not shying away from it. “But they’re my family.”

I nod, still not understanding but getting it a little. “I know,” I say, kissing him softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s fucked-up, and you deserve better, but I can’t come out. I can’t. They’d be done with me.”