“I believe you,” he said. “Just giving you a way out.”
“I don’t need one from you. Never from you. You’re my fucking world.”
Mickey smiled. Benito was a walking contradiction. Some days he didn’t talk. Others he had so much to say, Mickey couldn’t keep up.
Then there were days like today when he said all he needed to in three concise sentences. I love him.
Mickey kissed Benito again, then led him away from the bar to a quiet corner of the play area. It wasn’t exactly front and centre, but it was exposed enough that anyone who wanted to watch would see them.
Benito took a seat on the chaise. He kept his gaze on Mickey and beckoned him closer. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“Fix it.”
Benito untucked Mickey’s shirt and popped the buttons. It seemed to find its own way to the floor, and Mickey laughed as Benito scooped it up and draped it somewhere safer. “You’re such a neat freak.”
“Until I get messy with you.”
“I like messy.”
“I know. I live with you.”
Mickey’s heart skipped a beat. “Sometimes I can’t believe that’s a real thing.”
“Me either. The mess you make is biblical.”
“Liar.”
“Not anymore.” Benito tapped his chest. “I’m truth bombs all day long.”
“And all night long?”
“Come here and find out.”
Mickey pushed Benito onto the chaise and made short work of stripping his clothes, then he rose and shed the rest of his too.
They fell to the floor, and this time, Benito didn’t pick them up. He took Mickey in his mouth instead, sucking him with his full lips and sinful tongue, until Mickey was panting out his name and begging him to stop. “If you want to fuck, you gotta stop. Fuck, you’re killing me.”
Benito pulled back. He shot an unreadable glance over Mickey’s shoulder and scooted away to lie down, propped up on his elbows. “I don’t want you to die.”
“No?”
“No. Never.”
“What are you going to do about that?”
Benito licked his lips. “I don’t know. Maybe I have stage fright.”
Mickey considered him. Years on the road had left Benito hard to read at the best of times, but shyness wasn’t in his usual armoury, especially when it came to sex. Benito was a lover who knew what he wanted and how to take it.
Or give it up, which was most often his mood. What does he want right now?
No.
That was the wrong question.
What did Benito need?
Mickey covered Benito with his body, kissing him everywhere he could reach: his lips, his neck, his exposed chest. Around them, he sensed watchful eyes, but with Benito so close, they were easy to ignore.
Everything was.
Mickey made a cradle for himself between Benito’s legs. A lube bottle was within easy reach, and they didn’t need anything else. They’d tested negative a few months back and ditched the condoms for good. So far, Mickey had been inside Benito bare more times than he could count, but never yet—
It clicked. What Benito needed in this moment more than anything else. The unforgettable. Something that mattered. He stole another searing kiss from Benito’s lips, then drew back.
Benito widened his legs, brow already furrowed with a tension that hadn’t been there before.
Mickey shook his head and grinned, nudging them back where they’d come from. “Relax,” he whispered. “I got this.”
Benito took a shuddery breath, watching as Mickey slicked lube on his cock. “You don’t have to—”
Mickey cut him off with a slow, impaling slide, sinking down on Benito’s dick without the thought and preparation he usually put into taking a man’s cock. Benito’s cock, because it had been years since he’d let anyone else fuck him.
The sensation made his eyes water. He fell forward onto Benito’s chest. Benito held him tight, his arms a solid cage of love and affection.
He pushed Mickey’s damp hair back from his face. “I’m not ready to be bareback inside you. I’m wrecked already.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because having you inside me like this is going to make me come in ten seconds flat.”
Benito laughed, his dark gaze dancing. He’d let his inky scruff thicken in recent weeks, and the bearded look was good on him. It made his face timeless, but when he laughed, it showed Mickey the boy he’d once been. “We’d better make this a good ten seconds then,” he said.
He bent his legs, supporting Mickey’s body, and dragged him down to ravage his mouth. Humour faded, replaced by a desire so fierce Mickey forgot about the club and the eyes on them.
Perhaps Benito did too. He let Mickey screw him senseless. Slow. Deep. As if every grind of his hips was a declaration of how hard they loved each other.
Because love was hard.
But it was worth it.
Everything about Benito was worth it.
Mickey brought them to the brink, then Benito took over. He rolled Mickey onto his back and fucked him like they were the only two souls left on earth until they came together with low cries no one else would hear.
After, they lay panting, foreheads pressed together.
“How do you feel?” Mickey whispered.
Benito smiled. “I feel free.”
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About the Author
Bonus Material available for all books on Garrett's Patreon account. Includes short stories from Misfits, Slide, Strays, What Remains, Dream, and much more. Sign up here: https://www.patreon.com/garrettleigh
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Garrett Leigh is an award-winning British writer, cover artist, and book designer. Her debut novel, Slide, won Best Bisexual Debut at the 2014 Rainbow Book Awards, and her polyamorous novel, Misfits was a finalist in the 2016 LAMBDA awards, and was again a finalist in 2017 with Rented Heart.
In 2017, she won the EPIC award in contemporary romance with her military novel, Between Ghosts, and the contemporary romance category in the Bisexual Book Awards with her novel What Remains.
When not writing, Garrett can generally be found procrastinating on Twitter, cooking up a storm, or sitting on her behind doing as little as possible, all the while shouting at her menagerie of children and animals and attempting to tame her unruly and wonderful FOX.