“Sorry.” I roll off him, but he just moves to my side, lying on my shoulder like he doesn’t want me to get away.
“Don’t be. I liked it.”
I look down into his eyes, seeing he’s sincere. “I did too.”
He looks happy, lighter somehow, and my chest fills with pride because I did that.
It may be temporary, and he may just be practicing for his dream guy, but I did that, and nothing can take that away.
EIGHTEEN
TRAVIS
Holy shit, that was good. So damn good, I can’t even move. I don’t want to move.
My heart races, and no part of me regrets it. He was careful, like I knew he would be, but he was confident and fierce too. His body knew what mine needed, and he gave it to me.
It was perfect.
So fucking perfect.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, and I look up at him, still on my side and curled up to his big body.
“I’m perfect,” I say with no hint of embarrassment, even though I probably should be a little embarrassed.
I’m blissed-out and almost feel drunk on the orgasms.
Jesus fuck. I didn’t think he’d want to taste me, but when Oakley decides to do something, he’s all-in. I should have known better.
“You want to take a shower with me?” His voice is raspy and full of sex, and it’s hot. Really hot.
My brain on sex might be a little stupid. But that’s okay. I’ll sacrifice my intelligence for a little while.
“I can’t move,” I say, and he turns to his side, propping his head up on his hand.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
Ugh, he really is sweet. Beyond sweet. He cares like no one else. “I’m fine,” I say with a smile and total honesty. “I’m better than fine. I just . . .” I sigh happily and lie flat on my back. “I’m in a sex coma, I think. I don’t want to move from this spot.”
He finally smiles but then makes me pout when he climbs off the bed. He was warm. It was nice, and now where he was on the bed is cold. I don’t like it. But I yelp when his strong arms pull me up and into a fireman’s carry, like I weigh absolutely nothing.
“Shower.”
The big caveman carries me to the bathroom before lowering me back down to my feet and turning on the shower. My eyes are glued to his ass—which is absolute perfection, the muscles flexing with each move.
His back muscles ripple, and then I’m staring at his arms, all those veins running through them.
“You’re so damn hot, it melts my brain,” I say before I can stop myself, and he turns around, a big, satisfied grin on his stupidly handsome face.
“Is that so?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face. “See? You made me dumb.”
He’s grinning way too big now as he moves to me, that wide smile making his eyes sparkle. “I like After-Sex Travis.” He leans in, nuzzling my neck and then dragging his lips over my skin. “You’re happier. Nicer.”
I roll my eyes again and shove at him playfully. “I’m not nice.”
“Er. I said nicer.” He laughs and then grabs my hand, dragging me into the shower and under the warm water. It feels good but not as good as when he wraps his bigass arms around my waist and presses his hard dick against my body.
I moan softly and okay, I might let out a little whimper as his cock slides through my crease, teasing my sore hole, which is still sticky with his release.
“I want you again. How do I already want you again?”
“Take me,” I say breathlessly, my hands flattening against the shower wall as I thrust my ass back against him.
“No.” He bites on my earlobe, and I hiss. “You’re sore.”
“Nope.” I wiggle my ass back against him, and he lets out a low, nearly feral groan.
“Stop that.” He swats my ass cheek, and I let out a happy, surprised laugh. “I’m getting you clean.”
“It’s more fun if you dirty me up again first.”
I hear him chuckle, but then he grabs his bodywash, pouring some in his hands and proceeds to clean me, ignoring my half-hard dick when he does and being super careful around my admittedly sore hole.
I’d let him fuck me again though. There’s no doubt in my mind. Instead, he washes himself as I make it difficult, kissing him, glued to his side and trying to entice him into another mind-bending fuck, but he turns the water off and leads me out of the shower.
He dries me off first, and then himself, before taking me back into his bedroom and handing me a pair of sweats, which are too big for me, but I take them and tighten the string around my waist.
He hands me a hoodie, which I take, even though it’s warm in here, and I pull it on over my head as he does the same in a matching outfit before taking my hand and leading me to the living room. We head out to the patio, and he leads us to a porch swing I have to admit is beautiful.
It’s solid oak and even has cupholders in each of the sidearms. “Did you build that?”
He shrugs almost shyly as he sits down and pulls me next to him. “Yeah. It’s no big deal.”
It’s oversized and sturdy, the back of the swing contouring perfectly to my back. “It’s nice, Oakley.” I turn to look at him. “It’s really nice.”
He just shrugs his big shoulders again and leans back, letting his legs dangle and swing us gently.
I don’t hear any music from the party next door and assume they probably went to bed. I lean my head against his big, strong shoulder and swing quietly with him. “Have you told Garrison about this?”
“About the swing?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “No. About you and me.”
“Oh.” His body stiffens, and I wonder for a moment if he has and is worried I’ll be upset, but I wait for him to tell me. “Nah, I didn’t think you’d want them to know.”
“Me?” I lift my head up and look at him. “They know I’m gay.”
His big shoulder lifts slowly and then lowers. “Yeah, but I mean, they’d probably never see you with me. I know you never saw you with me either.”
I frown, not liking how vulnerable and unsure he sounds. “I mean, we may not seem like a perfect fit, but I’m not ashamed.” Why would I be? Oakley is beyond hot, and not only that, he’s also sweet and caring. And obviously ridiculously crafty.
“Oh.”
I lean back into him. “You can tell anyone you want to, Oakley.”
“Do you want to tell people?” I can’t really read him right now. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I know I wanted to tell Jameson about this earlier tonight. That I hate keeping secrets from my best friend.
“I don’t want to out you. Not that you need to come out or anything. Not that there’s anything to actually come out and say . . .”
He places a finger over my lips, stopping me. Thank. Fuck. “You ramble when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” I grumble.
He only chuckles and then wraps his arm around me, pulling me in close. “I don’t mind them or anyone else knowing, Travis. Not at all. That was the best sex I’ve ever had, and I wouldn’t mind bragging and shutting Dixon up, for once, when he talks about all the epic sex he’s having with Jameson.”