He put his hands back on my hips, but without the strength he’d used to pin me in place. Then he wrapped his lips around the head of my cock, wet and tight, and blinked up at me expectantly.
I sighed and carded both hands through his hair, gently but firmly holding him. I planted my feet on the mattress, knees bent, and slowly rocked my hips up, fucking into his mouth.
Dawson’s eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as I controlled the pace. He was so gorgeous, with the morning light falling over his bare back, his swollen lips stretched tight around my cock as I moved. I couldn’t look away. I fucked him slowly, but with care, sliding my cock in and out of his mouth with a slow intensity that made the heat in my gut tighten and intensify. Then, Dawson moaned around my cock, and the vibrations made me gasp as my hips bucked hard into his mouth. That only made him moan again, and I shivered at the knowledge that he’d liked the sudden, rough thrust.
I was only able to choke out a brief warning— “Fuck, Dawson, I’m close”—before the slow-building heat crested and rolled over me like a slow, powerful wave. My grip tightened in his hair and my hips stuttered a little as I came into the wet heat of his mouth. Dawson only hummed, swallowing it all and then staying in place, sucking gently at my cock until I gasped, prickling with oversensitivity, and pulled him off. I slumped back onto the bed, the aftershocks making me feel loose and lazy.
“Wow,” I murmured. “Good morning.” I grinned and tugged as his arm, encouraging him back up the bed. Then I reached for his cock. “Let me.”
Dawson flushed. “Too late,” he muttered.
My eyes widened.
“Shut up,” Dawson said with a grin before I could say anything. “You’re hot. I like it when you fuck my mouth.”
So he’d just rutted against the mattress until he came. Just from blowing me. That was so fucking hot to think about, my cock actually twitched valiantly in interest.
“I like it, too,” I murmured. “You’re so fucking amazing. Come here.”
I tugged Dawson into my arms and kissed the top of his head. Three months had passed since the first time he’d fucked me, and it’d happened plenty of times since then—somehow sex with Dawson was only getting better and better.
Dawson hummed happily and dropped a kiss to my chest. “Let’s get up,” he said. “I’ve got a coffee date with my sponsor later this afternoon.”
“You first,” I said, already considering drifting back to sleep for a few minutes, so comfortable in the post-orgasm haze.
Dawson laughed, then sat up. I sighed at the sight of his broad back—he threw a smile over his shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got to stop by the Elkin Lake clubhouse.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, then stretched my arms overhead with a sigh. “Today’s the big day, right?”
“Yep,” Dawson said. “Priest’s finally getting the keys.”
The cabin was finally completed—though it’d taken much longer to complete than expected, because Dawson had altered the plans, with everyone’s approval. The intervening three months had flown by, and Dawson had been doing amazingly. He had his own sponsor and his own AA group, separate from mine, and he’d been attending meetings four or five times a week. He hadn’t relapsed. And when he experienced cravings, he called his sponsor, or, if we were together, he’d talk it out with me. He was so open and honest about it—I was so fucking proud of him.
He’d even told his mother about his sobriety. She hadn’t been interested in hearing about it and was even less interested in his push to get her to consider sobriety, as well, and Dawson had wisely disengaged. He’d hadn’t given up on her—not even close—but he’d stopped enabling her and prioritized his own sobriety over triggering himself by helping her.
Dawson tugged his shirt on. Then he grabbed me by the waist with a sudden bark of a laugh, and bodily heaved me to my feet. I squawked in surprise and threw my arms around his neck to steady myself.
“I’m up!” I said through my laughter.
He kissed me. That only derailed our getting ready by about fifteen minutes, and eventually we were both dressed and in Dawson’s truck, leaving the Crew Motel and on the way to Elkin Lake. I leaned back in the passenger seat, hands around the mug of coffee I’d brought with me. Dawson’s truck was well taken care of, ran like a dream, but… it wasn’t the same as riding a bike, that’s for sure.
“God, I miss riding,” I said idly as I watched the familiar Junee scenery roll by. “I hit the halfway point, though, in my savings. So it won’t be much longer.”
Dawson hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, I know you miss it. I’m sorry.”
I reached over and flicked his thigh playfully. “You know you don’t need to apologize again.”
“I know I don’t need to,” Dawson said with a shrug. “I want to.”
“Shane could’ve suggested a lot worse things than my bike,” I said. “In the grand scheme of things, it’s not a huge deal.”
Dawson pressed his lips together but didn’t say anything else. It was true, though. Shane could’ve demanded my excommunication from the club, if he’d really wanted to. The fact that I’d only lost my bike was a blessing, and it was worth it, since it led to my resolving things with Dawson. Even though I missed riding, I didn’t regret vouching for Dawson.
We pulled into the clubhouse parking lot right on time. The rest of the guys were filtering out of the clubhouse—Brennan and Joker waved excitedly at us. We climbed out of the truck; I wound my fingers into Dawson’s as we followed the guys down the narrow path toward the finished cabin.
Dawson dragged his feet a little, anxiety pinching his expression.
“Don’t worry,” I murmured, leaning in to drop a comforting kiss on his temple. “Priest is going to love it.”
Priest had been banned from snooping around the jobsite since Christmas so that we could still surprise him with all the last touches. And now, he was standing in front of the finished cabin—and its new addition, the attached garage.
“Guys,” Priest said, eyes wide. “Guys, what happened to the cabin? Brennan?”
Brennan laughed. “It was Dawson’s idea. He did all the work.”
Priest whirled to face me, eyes wide and shocked. “Dawson? That wasn’t even there the last time I saw it.”
“I know,” Dawson said. He rubbed the hand over his hair a little sheepishly, his other hand still tangled in mine. “It’s a garage.”
Priest just stared at him, still wide-eyed and shocked, like he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “You already built me a cabin… and now there’s a garage, too. I… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Dawson said. He glanced at me for reassurance, and I nodded, before I released his hand. Dawson stepped a little closer to Priest, then took a steadying breath. “I know I’ve already said this, but I’m sorry for how I acted last year. I made a lot of mistakes, and I screwed up my second chance, too. You took a risk trusting me again, and I’m—I’m really grateful to be here. To be a part of this club, even though I’m not a patched-in member.”